#fighting for my life trying to look into a *shudders* dating app | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

winetae · 5 years

Text

wall to wall (m.) 01

↳ in a pornographic movie, refers to a series of sex scenes with no plot.

⇁ female reader x hoseok

⇁ smut, porn star!au

⇁ sex work, insecurity, jealousy, slut shaming/objectification (not the sexy kind), role played scenario that includes: d/s dynamics - dom!hoseok, porn star level dirty talk, stuff that should never happen in a kitchen bc hygiene, daddy kink, impreg kink, rough sex, spanking, a lot of finger sucking, this fic is a poor attempt at social commentary

⇁ 22.5k

. . .

Temporary popularity is the biggest threat to your career right now. Without a solid core fan base you’re doomed to be forgotten. If not now, then in a month or two, and if not then, surely by the end of the year. That’s how quickly the adult film industry cycles through their actors, especially when you’re a woman. Your agent comes forward with a proposition to help put you back on the map.

↳ or, my contribution to the lights, camera, action collab : )

part 01 | part 02 | part 03

author’s note | inspired by the piece ‘slut-shaming: pornstars are humans too’ & the life after porn documentaries on netflix. thank u to jordan, eva, amy, venus, addie and lu for being a part of this collab !! *inserts a million heart emojis and a big fat NUT emoticon*

re:warnings, the slut shaming is done by others and can also be considered as internalized oppression. it’s something the reader struggles with and eventually works to overcome. this first part isn’t as smutty as the second but regardless i hope u can bear with me lol. ty, as always, for giving my writing a chance. i hope u enjoy it or at least take something from it !

wall2wall can be read as a sequel to my fic money shot. same disclaimer applies: this story does claim to accurately portray the world of adult entertainment

SCENE 01 - YOU’VE GOT MALE. TAKE 01. ROLL A.

Today is just one of those days you wish you had slept straight through. Maybe if you had, you wouldn’t be dying from the sheer dullness of having nothing to do.

You huff out a sigh, bored out of your goddamn mind.

Head cradled in the crook of your left palm, you use your available hand to refresh your instagram feed. Much to your disappointment, nothing new shows up. The same video of a dog chasing its own tail plays on but you pay it no heed, the novelty having worn off after the first few times.

The next half hour passes by in a similar fashion, each result proving to be as unavailing as the last. You’d think that after a while you’d give up and find a new distraction to pass the time but whether out of habit or boredom-induced insanity, you persist with your fruitless attempts.

Today really fucking blows, you think glumly, the curve of your mouth thinning into a grimace. As the adorable corgie keeps the infernal cycle going, yapping and running around incessantly, you’re struck with a terrifying thought. Maybe this is how you will die - condemned to live your life stuck in the worst sort of monotony imaginable.

What you had expected to be a “quick and easy” shoot has turned into a tedious ordeal that you don’t see ending anytime soon. And whilst on-set complications and prolongations are frequent enough that they’re almost expected, today really takes the cake. Even during your rookie days, you can’t recall running into delays of this scale.

To top it off, the weather app announces a record-breaking heat - which in itself is bad enough. As luck would have it, it gets worse. The place rented out for today’s filming lacks proper air conditioning, equipped instead with electric fans that look like they’ve been around since the 1980s.

A quick glance into the vanity mirror confirms that you look as frazzled as you feel. Because of the humidity level that weighs down the air, your hair is in a right state. You fight a grimace off your face. The straggly hair coupled with the oily sheen on your face...it’s far from your best look, to say the least.

And to think thousands of people will get to see it up close in 1080p resolution... It’s a terrifying concept.

You’re already dreading the upcoming sex scenes that you’ve yet to film. It’s always a messy affair - fluids of all kind end up literally everywhere - but the sweltering heat undoubtedly makes it ten times worse. A shudder works its way down your spine.

Frankly speaking, the mere thought of having hot and wild sex in these less than ideal working conditions kills your libido. Under the glaring studio lights, surrounded by sweaty crewmen and pressed up an equally feverish body - it’s basically the porn equivalent of a fuckin’ barbecue party.

Yeah, no thanks. You’d rather be at home, with the air conditioner at full blast, nestled in the comfy cushions of your sofa as you marathon a series of your choice on netflix. Only the promised sum of money keeps you from bolting and calling it quits altogether.

“So when are you gonna drop the new boy toy?” a voice buzzes in your ear not unlike a pesky fly.

Tempting as it is to ignore it, you peel your eyes away from your reflection just in time to catch Seokjin shoot you the most unimpressed look in his repertoire, one perfectly groomed eyebrow arched in judgment.

In the background, an old ceiling fan whirs on but does nothing to cool you off. If anything, its constant rattling only exacerbates your growing headache.

“What are you talking about?" You flick a piece of imaginary lint off your dressing robe, your tone neutral.

Seokjin’s brown eyes see right through your feigned air of indifference. Months of working by your side have made him an expert at reading your body language, be it naked or clothed. A wolfish grin adorns his face as he swoops in for the kill.

“Oh come on. You know exactly who I’m talking about. Jongmin. He’s short - comes up to right about here.” Seokjin holds a hand up to his chest to illustrate his point, deliberately shaving off a few inches off your boyfriend’s height in order to antagonize you.

You bite the inside of your cheek, careful not to spit out the retort that’s perched on the tip of your tongue. It takes a great deal of effort to unclench the muscles in your jaw but you manage to school your features into an expression of polite confusion.

Seokjin frowns, dissatisfied with your lack of response. You don’t need to be a mind reader to know that he’s currently thinking of new ways to provoke you.

When the silence stretches on and he’s yet to riposte, you allow yourself to relax again, believing that he’s given up on being an asshole.

To your chagrin, you’re sorely mistaken. The last of your self-restraint is finally put to the test as his next words do nothing to quell your irritation.

“Jongmin.” He repeats slowly, like you need it spelled out for you. “He follows you around everywhere like a lap dog. It’d be cute if it wasn’t so, you know, pathetic.”

“His name is Jimin,” you correct for the nth time.

Instantly, you reprimand yourself for playing into his games and granting him the attention he so craves. Fulfilling his twisted desire is the last thing you hope to achieve. Staying silent would be the sensible thing to do but your brain completely bypasses the memo. The moment your mouth opens it’s impossible to quash the urge to justify yourself.

Maybe it’s your pride coming into play. Maybe it’s Seokjin’s uncanny ability to get under anyone’s skin at will. Whatever the case may be, you stammer out, on the defensive, “And he’s not my 'boy toy'. We - it’s not - we’re dating.” But the word feels like a weight on your tongue. You swallow.

The statement earns you a scoff of incredulity. “Dating? Him?”

You finally set your phone down and aim a glare his way, abandoning all pretense at being indifferent because—Jesus. Is the idea of you dating that unfathomable? He’s never been this worked up over any of your other relationships. Granted, none of them have ever lasted this long but is it really any of his business who you choose to see in your free time?

“I don’t get what your problem is. What’s so wrong with me dating?”

“Have you seen who you’re dating?”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?!”

While this isn’t the first time your agent lets a judgmental comment slip from between his pearly white teeth, it’s usually not laced with spite. Seokjin is never outright hostile, preferring sweet words of manipulation and thinly-veiled insults to shows of aggression. The attempt to get a rise out of you does not go by unnoticed. His anger, this time, feels personal.

You wrack your brain, quickly sifting through your recent memories to try and figure out why he’s chosen to be such an ass today. You’re certain that you’ve filled out all the necessary paperwork required to proceed with today’s filming, and yes, after thinking it over, you know that you went to the obligatory medical checkup last week. So there really is no reason for him to bitch at you unless—

The proverbial light bulb flickers on and it all suddenly makes sense.

You’re willing to bet a hefty sum of money that the high-paying gig you turned down two weekends ago is to blame for his abnormal crotchety behavior.

Yes, that would explain it.

Due to Seokjin's well-known propensity to hold a grudge for longer than average, the odds that he’s still hung up over the lost deal are pretty high. And as much as his disappointment and frustration are understandable from a business standpoint, you don’t appreciate being used as a verbal punching bag for him to expel all those pent-up feelings.

Seokjin hums, a knowing smirk pulling the sides of his mouth upwards. Fleetingly, and not for the first time, you find it a shame that his cockiness tarnishes his otherwise handsome face. “I give it another couple of days until you get bored. How long has this gone on for? A month? How are you not yanking out your hair from the sheer boredom of dating...that."

A muscle in your jaw ticks.

“He’s not Voldemort, you coward. Would it honestly kill you to say his name?” Seokjin’s expression begs to differ. You cut him off before he can add fuel to the fire. “And I won’t get bored. Jimin’s - he’s a perfectly nice guy. We’ve been seeing each other just fine—not that it’s any of your concern.”

“Yes, he’s nice,” Seokjin concedes easily, brushing off any attempts at putting an end to the conversation. He grins, wide and smug, like he knows you can’t refute what he’ll say next. “Perfectly nice and boring. The kind of guy you’d bring back home if your parents were straight-laced folks that wanted to marry you off to a choir boy. Seriously, how the fuck did a guy like him end up in the porn industry? He belongs in a church or, I dunno, maybe some neighborhood book club - not behind a camera filming you getting flogged by a daddy dom.”

You sniff. “Just because he tucks his shirts in doesn’t—”

“It’s not just the shirts, honey.” He leans over to pat your hand in a gesture of consolation. Used to his antics, his attempt is easily blocked by a swat of your hand.

You muster the dirtiest look you’re capable of, the kind of look that sends men to early graves, but he simply smiles in response, completely unfazed.

Any person with the minimum amount of tact would know to politely change the subject. It’s unfortunate that your agent does not belong to that pool of individuals, choosing instead to be selectively blind to overt social cues.

He continues on, unperturbed, like he has a point to prove. “Believe it or not, I know you. Sometimes, for whatever reason, perhaps a lapse in judgement but who the fuck knows, you like to venture out of your comfort zone and experiment. Like with the chickenshit gingerbread spice concoctions they come out with at Starbucks to celebrate turkey season and Christmas or the cream cheese makis they make for the white crowd who want to eat sushi but don’t like anything other than white rice and seaweed. And, trust me, while I’m all for diversity and broadening your personal experiences, don’t you think there’s a reason why you always go back to your preferred choice of an iced latte with two sugars?”

“Did you just compare Jimin to a gingerbread latte?”

Okay, so admittedly you’ve made some questionable food and beverage choices in the past, but the comparison is a fucking reach.

“You’re absolutely right." Seokjin gives a firm nod of his head, his expression serious. "Now that you mention it, he’s definitely a vanilla soy. Bland and boring. Targeted towards the middle-aged soccer moms that think veganism is a trend, not a lifestyle. Wants to be a people-pleaser but misses the mark.”

“I didn’t know it was Share Your Unwanted Opinion Time,” you grind out from behind a strained smile. “If I had, I would have said something about your receding hairline earlier.”

It’s a low blow but the way Seokjin’s plump lips curl in displeasure makes the dig worth it. One of his hands automatically shoot up to flatten the bangs that are usually slicked back with copious amounts of gel.

Offended, he spits, “It’s not receding! There’s a difference between premature balding and a bleach job gone wrong.”

"I'm not sure people care to differentiate. Looks like a receding hairline to me." You shrug while picking at your nails. “You’re nearing that age, too, so.”

“You just try looking this good at 30. Fucking try.”

He waits for a reply but your interest has already waned. You scroll through your phone, bored once more.

Seokjin makes a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat at the clear dismissal. You swear you hear him grumble under his breath - something along the lines of never going blonde again - but can’t find it in you to care, not when he’s finally ceased his nagging.

"Filming in twenty!" someone shouts from outside the door.

"They’re running behind schedule," Seokjin notes after glancing down at his gold wristwatch. "How can they take more than an hour to fix the lighting? Tch. Bunch of fuckin’ amateurs."

He aims a glare in your direction as if their incompetence is somehow your fault.

You have half a mind to glower back but miraculously withhold your sentiments. Admittedly, he isn’t wrong - the team you’re working with today keeps committing blunders even rookies wouldn’t dare perpetrate - but you’d rather get your driving license revoked forever than to acknowledge that Seokjin’s right and inflate his already unnaturally huge ego.

Something heavy plops into your lap. When you look down, the glossy surface of a magazine reflects the harsh lights suspended over the vanity table back at you.

“I didn’t want to resort to this but you leave me no choice,” he says in response to your look of confusion.

“What’s this?”

You hold up the magazine expecting the worst. It’s heavy in your hands, the pages thicker than the gossip rags you’d find in a dentist’s waiting room.

“’s the newest issue. Came out this morning. I’d actually like it back once you’re done because I haven’t finished reading it and God knows how hard it was to get my—hey, you can stop flicking aimlessly, I saved you the trouble and bookmarked the page,” Seokjin explains a bit impatiently.

When you shoot him a glance, his attention is trained on your face, not the magazine. He barely blinks. Like a snake honing in on its prey. And that kind of intense focus - that can’t be good. After all, you’ve known Seokjin long enough to suspect that whatever trick he has up his sleeve will give him the advantage he needs to deliver the killing blow.

Gingerly, you flip through the pages like you’re afraid the magazine might self-destruct in your hands. Which would be a waste, in your opinion, since Exquis is a damn good magazine - perhaps less intellectual than Playboy, but definitely classier than Hustler. Its reputation speaks for itself. Known for hiring the best photographers and carefully combing through their models, it’s selective, only picking the cream of the cr—

Everything around you stills.

Your eyes narrow at the spread because there, on the page Seokjin’s taken great care to bookmark, a model poses provocatively on a lounge chaise near a crystal clear pool. It’s similar to a shoot you’ve done in the past but you can tell right away that the quality of this is above and beyond anything you’ve ever done. The lighting is better, heck even the barely-there-swimsuit looks like it costs ten times more than whatever you had been told to throw on at the time.

The vexation you feel only worsens once it finally registers who the model is. Her youthful and pretty face carries a permanent haughtiness that not even makeup or acting can entirely mask.

The pages crease in your hold as you flick through the rest of the spread dedicated to the up and coming talents. With every new page that has her plastered on its glossy surface you feel your stomach sink.

2...3...4...

“Five pages,” you curse under your breath. For a magazine this renowned, it’s...a lot. Commendable, even. Your nose crinkles. “Well, fuck. me. sideways.”

Seokjin gloats, reveling in your outrage. “Hmph. I told you, didn’t I? Passing up the opportunity to work with Kim Namjoon would come and bite you in the ass.”

“Aha! So you have been a little bitch because I refused to shoot with Namjoon.” You whirl around in your chair and use the magazine to jab him in the chest. He easily steps aside, avoiding your attempt at wrinkling his trademark Armani button-down shirt.

“It was the chance of a lifetime and you knew it.” He turns his nose up and sniffs.

“That’s what you said about filming with Min Yoongi last month.” You roll your eyes. “I can’t take you seriously if you’re gonna say the same thing every time a new guy shows up.”

“Shooting with Agust D did help you gain some mainstream popularity. You’ve gotten love calls for catalog printings and your name is now automatically on the invite sheet for every C-list event in town. Namjoon would have given you another needed boost.” Seokjin folds his arms, lecturing mode switched on. You struggle with the instinctive urge to tune him out. “Sure, he’s got a niche audience, but he’s famous in his field and it would have helped expand your fa—“

“Not to kink shame or anything because we don’t do that, but Namjoon is a freak. And don’t deny it, I’ve seen his videos.”

“He’s specialized in particular—“

“You were the one telling me not to film all sorts of shit right off the bat,” you cut in, refusing to back down from your stance. There’s no way you’ll let him sweet-talk you out of this one, not after the multiple videos of Namjoon you’d binged one weekend. “Stick to one story.”

“Well, we’re not exactly ‘right off the bat’ anymore, are we? We’ve passed that stage. Right now is a crucial time in your career so you’ve got to make it count. Filming rehashed videos of the same pizza delivery guy scenario gets boring and fast. As pretty as you are, you’re not offering anything new to the table, are you?”

Fuck him. He’s right and you know it. Temporary popularity is the biggest threat to your career right now. Without a solid core fan base you’re doomed to be forgotten. If not now, then in a month or two, and if not then, surely by the end of the year. That’s how quickly the adult film industry cycles through their actors, especially when you’re a woman.

Still. “I refuse to work with a guy whose porn alias is Cock Monster.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“Well I said no,” you insist stubbornly.

“Well if you had said yes, maybe it would be your ass cheeks getting their own two page spread in Exquis instead,” jabs Seokjin, hitting you where it hurts.

Ugh. The reminder that Joy’s bested you yet again riles you up even more. That, coupled with the likelihood of your career ending imminently, makes you stop and think.

Your agent goes on to say, “Don’t you want the AVN for best newcomer? Where did that competitive edge go? At the rate this is going, Joy’s going to steal it from right under your nose.”

“Like fucking hell,” you hiss. The magazine bends under the strength of your grip. “That one’s mine.”

You absolutely refuse to lose out to her. Every fiber of your being rejects the idea of letting her one-up you again.

“Not if you don’t start branching out. The last time you did anything substantial or interesting was about a month ago. It’s already old news. People are going to forget you shot that sequence altogether if you don’t do anything that puts you back on the map.”

A pause. “…I really don’t want to film with someone who willingly named himself Cock Mons—”

“Fine.” Seokjin heaves a resigned sigh. “You don’t have to fuck the monster willy. Willy monster? Hm. Wouldn’t it make more sense to name himself Monster Cock and not Cock Monster? Wonder why he does th—”

You suppress a snort. “Please spare me while you can. It’s amazing, that talent for making everything sound a lot worse than it already it is.”

“Why, thank you.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

“You trying to insult someone who’s willing to find you someone else to work with? I can always ask Monster Meatstick if he’s up for—”

“No! No, that’s - not necessary.” You force out a smile that wouldn’t fool anyone into thinking its genuine. “Why would I ever insult you? You’re the best agent one could ask for.”

“That’s what I thought.” He takes your compliment, forced or not. When he smiles, smugness rolls off of him in waves. “One day you’ll realize you’re taking my talent for granted. I’ll find you another onscreen partner even though you don’t know what you’re missing out.”

“Thank you.”

“But!” He interjects and this time you don’t bother swallowing down your groan, already dreading the stipulations he has in store for you. “You have to promise to hold up your end of the bargain and try your best.”

Indignation colors your face. Your mouth falls open, retort at the ready. “When do I ever slack off on the job?! I’ve never given a half-assed blowjob in my life - and trust me, the temptation was there. Do you have any idea how hard it is to stay focused when the guy can’t cum on command? I once had to get my jaw realigned.”

“I’m not saying you’re slacking off,” he backtracks, switching tactics. His expression is soon replaced by the business-like smile you’re used to seeing on the regular. Tone buttery and appeasing, he tries to convince you through flattery instead. “You work hard and do a good job… I wouldn’t have signed you on otherwise. The problem isn’t with the quality of your work but with - all the rest.”

“The rest?” you parrot back dumbly, trying and failing to comprehend.

Seokjin scowl returns, unable to keep his genuine emotions under wraps.

“D’you honestly think you’re at a point in your career where you can pick and choose your jobs like this? Ever since you started dating that - that thing - your workload has significantly decreased. And not because you lacked opportunities. You had them but you turned them all down.” Visibly getting worked up over the issue, his voice rises an octave, then two. “What should’ve been a good spring board, only brought you back to square one. I know I can’t force you to take jobs if you refuse to, but I can say that your potential is going to waste. I’ve never seen someone sabotage herself like this before and it’s driving me up the wall. While I get that you’re under the delusion that you’ve found true love or whatever Disney fantasy Jungmin has sold you, you can’t turn down projects over and over again without there being serious repercussions. You’re smart enough to know this. I shouldn’t have to remind you.”

Seokjin’s chest heaves as he takes in several big gulps of air, visibly out of breath after his monologue.

For him to explode like popcorn kennels in the microwave... You reckon he’d let his feelings pile up inside him for a while, silently stewing.

You’ve never seen your agent look so visibly distressed. He’s normally the picture-perfect image of composure so the sight that greets you is enough of a shock to render you speechless.

Deep down, Seokjin probably means well. There aren’t a lot of agents like him; you’re one of the lucky ones. Most girls are discarded by their agencies as quickly as used tissues once they get milked for all their worth.

Thankfully it’s never been that way with Seokjin. He claims that he’s in it for the long run. According to him the quick buck isn’t worth seeing the light die out in girl after girl. Perhaps that’s why he takes the task of ensuring your safety so seriously. How many times has he warned you to steer clear of this or that seedy director or ban you from attending drug-heavy parties? While his behavior can come off as overbearing on the worst days, at least he cares.

Sadly, it’s more than you can say for most.

In a way, he’s the only one in this business rooting for your success—if only because his paycheck depends on how well you perform. You like to pretend there’s more to it than that.

“I’m not - what’s Jimin got to do with any of this?” you splutter, still digesting the long tirade you’ve just been subjected to.

“Are you serious? That’s all you got from what I said?”

“Well, no, but I still fail to—”

“Do you think me a fool?” He crosses his arms tightly across his broad chest. “The only scenes you’re willing to shoot are when he’s on set. Are you a kid or something? Since when do you need supervision to shoot a sex scene?”

“N-no. It just worked out that way, okay?” In reply to his dubious expression, you force yourself to explain. “Okay, okay - I get it. Maybe I might’ve lessened my workload recently but it has nothing to do with Jimin, alright? My vagina needs rest from time to time. Just because it’s my job doesn’t mean I don’t need a break. I’m human too, not some blow-up doll.”

“You expect me to believe that he has nothing to do with it? You were perfectly fine before he entered the picture. And now that you’re all loved up you only pick—”

A knock, so timid you barely catch it, cuts off the rest of his sentence.

“Yeah? Come in, I’m decent!” you yell - not that you care whether someone sees you naked or not. The concept of modesty has long been lost on you. Some might call it shamelessness or vanity, but you take pride in how you look. And why wouldn’t you? Your body is your bread and butter. You spend hours in the gym every week so that your ass looks good no matter what camera angle.

“It’s me.”

The door opens a crack and the speaker tentatively sticks his mop of hair through the small opening. As soon as you recognize him, your heart leaps at the sight and you quickly tighten your robe together.

“Oh, speak of the devil,” Seokjin mutters under his breath.

You resist the urge to throttle him and plaster on your brightest smile instead.

“I wanted to see how you were doing. Sorry I took so long... I would’ve come earlier but they needed my help.” Jimin scratches a spot behind his ear, sheepish. “Someone tripped over the cables and smashed a camera lens so we had to find a replacement. The director threw a fit and wanted to call it quits so we’ve been trying to calm him down this entire time. He did - eventually, anyway, after he called his dealer on set.”

A disapproving frown tugs at his mouth corners and mars his otherwise perfect appearance.

You take a moment to swoon internally. You’ll never get tired of admiring your boyfriend. Unlike the majority of the on-set personnel, he doesn’t reek of weed or booze or stale cigarette smoke. His ironed clothes and immaculate appearance always make it easy to spot him amidst the hungover crew.

“That’s fine! I kept myself busy.”

Jimin returns your smile, his eyes creasing into beautiful half-moon crescents. You don’t know what kind of love-struck expression covers your face but next to you Seokjin makes a noise that sounds like a cross between a gag and a cough.

“Oh! Here, I brought snacks. I didn’t know what you liked so I just grabbed everything I could get my hands on.” He holds up a paper plate stacked with treats no doubt stolen from the catering service. “I know I kind of went overboard but I wanted to make sure you kept your sugar level up.”

“That’s sweet of you,” you coo, reaching to take the plate from him. He’s piled on the sweets so high that it’s a miracle nothing has toppled over yet. You aren’t especially hungry but take a bite out of a chocolate candy to show how much you appreciate the effort. Its gooey consistency melts on your tongue, the taste so sweet it sticks to your teeth.

“How adorable,” chimes in Seokjin, his hand grabbing a licorice stick from the mountain of candy before you can swat him away. “Thanks Jongmin.”

“Jimin,” he corrects good-naturedly, his smile not budging an inch. You think, privately, that’s what you like the most about him. Not many have the ability to block out Seokjin’s bullshit so effectively.

“Mmh,” your manager says around a mouthful of candy. “Seokjin. Pleasure.”

You elbow him while gritting your teeth. “Can you...give us a moment?”

Seokjin swallows down the treat and opens his mouth in protest. He has the audacity to look betrayed. “You’re kicking me out of our room so the two of you can get it on? Really?”

Jimin’s cheeks flush and you quickly cut in before your agent can make matters worse.

"I just want to talk without you breathing down my neck. Weren’t you going off earlier about how I didn’t need adult supervision anymore? Well?”

“Fine. Fine! But you owe me. Again.” He grabs his portable phone charger from the vanity table before making his exit. “And don’t forget what we talked about!”

What a fucking drama queen. You have no idea why he always insists on making a scene when you know for a fact that he would’ve left of his own volition in five minutes anyway. For reasons he has no trouble disclosing, he can’t stand Jimin’s presence.

“I won’t,” you grumble just so that you can get him out of your hair faster.

The door slams shut with more force than strictly necessary. Silence hangs in the air for a brief moment before Jimin turns his warm gaze towards you.

“What was that about?”

“Uh, nothing. You know how he is...” You play with the ends of your braided hair. “He can’t go very long without throwing a tantrum.’

“He seems very protective of you,” remarks Jimin, a thoughtful expression painting his angelic face. “I think that’s why he’s not that fond of me.”

“Nonsense,” you rebut immediately as you take his hands in yours. “Who could ever not like you?”

Jimin allows his lips to quirk into a small, self-deprecating smile that you promptly erase with a kiss. His lips feel pillow-soft against yours, and you let yoruself indulge in the feeling before pulling back.

You sigh, remembering the scene you’ve yet to film. “If only my co-star was you.”

He laughs at that. “Seokjin would probably throw a fit, huh?”

Jimin treats you to dinner that night.

He chooses the restaurant. It’s a small, quaint place, tucked into a hidden corner just minutes away from the bustling main street of the shopping district. It’s not the kind of place people stumble across by accident but judging by the occupied tables, business is doing fine by reputation alone.

The owner comes out to greet Jimin by name. They exchange warm greetings, the woman asking him how his brother’s been doing and whether he’ll stop by anytime soon.

“Ah - I’m not sure... You know how he is... I’ll let him know you said hi.”

“Tell him I’ll give him an extra serving of ribs. That was his favorite, right?”

When her eyes trail over Jimin’s shoulder and spot you, she grins so wide you’d think she won the lottery or something. “Park Jimin! You’ve gone and found a girlfriend! And so pretty, too. Ah, really...time sure flies by. I remember when you first started coming here - and now!”

You smile back, greeting her with a polite handshake. The owner is quick to usher you into a small booth in the back. She hands you the menus while patting Jimin on his shoulder. “I’ll get you drinks. It’s on the house.”

“You don’t have to do that!” protests Jimin, shaking his head. “Really. It’s not—”

“Nonsense.” She waves a hand at him. “You’ll get two more if you keep that up, Park Jimin.”

Once she knows she’s earned Jimin’s compliance, she leaves with a satisfied smile. You can tell by their genuine interactions that she’s close to Jimin. Family, perhaps? Either way, this isn’t a place Jimin tracked down on yelp. He flips through the menu with ease, like he’s done it hundreds of times before.

“Sorry about that,” he says once she’s out of earshot. “I used to come here all the time with my family when we all still lived here. They moved and live in a different town now so we haven’t had a meal together here in years, but. I still come here. The food is good, of course, but - I dunno. I have good memories here so I thought I’d share it with you. It sounds stupid now.”

He laughs quietly, cheeks flushed a pretty pink.

“I love it.” You can’t help but smile, cheeks hurting from the force of it. Invisible liquor runs through your bloodstream, a ball of warmth unfurling in your belly. “Thank you.”

A pause ensues. It’s one of those moments in which you’re unsure if you’ve said too much or not enough. Being here with Jimin means a lot. You’re not the most verbose person but you hope that Jimin can feel your sincerity.

Maybe your stare comes off as too intense because Jimin breaks the eye contact and clears his throat.

He fiddles with his earring and says, “The food is really good!”

Pink dots his cheeks as he attempts to change the subject. “I don’t know how long the place has been around for but the food is exactly the same. Apparently it’s the sauce they use? Auntie still won’t share the recipes with me and I’ve known her since I was a kid.”

He chatters on, gaining confidence when he notices you’re not put off or bored by his numerous anecdotes. As time passes by, he’s visibly more relaxed. His laugh is more natural, less restrained, like he’s using all the muscles in his face and not just the ones near his mouth.

It’s a stark difference from the first date, you think. Back then he had come off as quite shy, preferring to let you lead the conversation, only offering up tidbits from time to time. Now the conversation flows easily. Nothing feels forced or awkward and - it’s nice. The normalcy of it. Like a hot cup of tea before bed or the scent of the fabric softener your mother uses. It’s something you find comfort in, that you can see yourself coming back to and not growing tired of.

Seokjin can say what he wants - that Jimin’s too uninteresting, that you’re too mismatched of a couple - whatever.

Jimin likes you for you.

When you’re out on dates or when the two of you talk on the phone late into the evening, he rarely brings up your job. Instead, he asks you questions about your favorite TV shows, your dipping sauce preferences, the first album you purchased. These small details might seem inconsequential to others but to you, they’re a welcome breath of fresh air.

For all the talks of Jimin being too average and too normal, men like him are in reality surprisingly hard to come by.

Because what you haven’t failed to notice since you began your career as a porn star is that people love the idea of you. People who avidly watch you from their laptop screen in the comfort of their own home think that you’re some type of sex goddess - that you’re basically up for anything. In their minds, you’re a fun girl who loves sex, all kinds of sex, any kind of sex, and who doesn’t have any qualities or attributes other than making people cum until their limbs go numb.

Your feelings? Not really important. Feelings would make you human and being human would ruin their favorite fantasy.

That’s what takes you a while to learn - you don’t get paid to have sex, you get paid to sell dreams.

It doesn’t bother you at first. In a way, you think, it’s like acting. The porn star people jerk off to daily is a character you play, a mask you can take off at your leisure once the camera director yells ‘cut!’.

Very quickly, you learn people don’t share the same sentiment. To them, the line that distinguishes you from your job persona isn’t blurry - it simply doesn’t exist.

In the beginning, you’d stayed optimistic. Once people get to know you past the image they’ve built up in their heads, surely they’ll realize you’re not a sex-craved addict who only has dick on the brain, right? But with every new date you accept to go on, the reality of your situation only leaves room for disappointment and barely reigned in revulsion.

Even in non-romantic situations, people let you down. Old classmates, neighbors... It pisses you off that they assume you have no self-worth just because you’re a sex worker. Stevie from 308 down the hall once tried throwing crumpled bills at you, expecting you to crawl over to him for a fifty. The memory is enough to set your blood boiling. You can’t wait until you earn big enough bucks to move out of your shitty apartment into a nice high-rise penthouse, away and above all the scum of the Earth.

“You okay?” asks Jimin, noticing the crease that burrows your brow. “The food alright?”

You blink several times, belatedly realizing you had zoned out. Guilt and embarrassment well up within you.

“M’yeah,” you swallow down the spoonful of stew stuffed in your mouth. “Sorry.”

Jimin chews his bottom lip. Finally, he settles with, “Tell me if I’m boring you.”

“No, no! You’re not.” His evident doubt does nothing to alleviate the sudden nausea swarming your lower belly. “I’m serious, Jimin. I’m - Sorry if I gave off that impression. I just - I have a lot on my mind but you’re lovely. I’d tell you if you were - you know. Promise.”

“Would you? Sometimes I think you’re too nice.” It’s not delivered as an insult, but it doesn’t exactly sound like praise, either.

You force out a snort. “Heh. Wish you’d tell Seokjin that.”

“He’s not too cross with me, is he?” Jimin’s expression looks awkward, like he’s forcing his facial muscles to stay relaxed and mien nonchalant.

“Wh- oh, you mean because of earlier? He isn’t. That’s not him being angry. It’s not even you. It’s me. We just have - a slight difference in opinions, I suppose. If you can even call it that.”

“He doesn’t want you to date me,” concludes Jimin.

The frustrations you’d repressed earlier in the day come back. Why does Seokjin’s opinion matter? You huff, putting your spoon down.

“He’s not my dad. And even if he was, I’m grown. I can make my own decisions.” You roll your eyes. “Don’t worry about him. He’ll get over it... It’s not like it’s any of his business in the first place.”

“Still...” Jimin says, unsure. “He’s your agent. I wouldn’t want the relation between you to sour because of me.”

“Honestly, I’m convinced it’s not even you he has a problem with. We talked about it today and I think he’s getting antsy because, um, you know, I haven’t accepted any big offers lately. Like, I’m staying too much in my comfort zone or something. He says that in the long run that can be detrimental to my career.”

It’s a bit strange, discussing your work with Jimin. You both work in the same industry, Jimin as a second camera assistant and you as an adult entertainer, but outside of filming sets, you rarely acknowledge what the other person does for a living.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. He wants me to branch out and try new things.”

“What, you mean anal? Gangbangs?”

“Um, yeah. All that, probably...” You have to blink several times because of the shock of hearing Jimin say that so casually. “...Is that okay?”

“Huh?” Jimin in turn blinks at you, like your question doesn’t properly register. “Oh, yeah, sure. I’m fine with it. You said it’ll be good for your career?”

“Apparently.”

“Then, yeah.” He shrugs like he isn’t bothered by the news at all. “Of course that’s okay.”

A part of you wants to push the issue, ask him why he’d be fine with his girlfriend filming intense sex scenes with random men, but that inner voice is snuffed out before the poisonous thought has time to take root.

Isn’t this what you always wanted? A boyfriend who is accepting and understanding of your profession?

You wash down your worries with a gulp or two of soju, determined not to let your own insecurities ruin the rest of your night.

Less than 24 hours after you’ve agreed to work on a worthwhile project of Seokjin’s choosing, a slew of texts blow up your phone.

Unsurprisingly, it’s your agent. A quick scroll through your phone reveals that your agent has left you with no less than 15 messages, 1 voicemail, and 3 e-mails.

It’s...a lot. You’ve grown to expect that kind of fanfare with him. Like any man who deals with legally binding contracts on a daily basis, Seokjin ensures that you keep your word. He can be extremely persuasive when he sets his mind to it. You’ve seen men and women alike succumb to the force of his magnetism. Back when your filmography had solely consisted of amateur sex tapes shot in bad lighting with low-grade filming equipment, Seokjin's charms alone had been sufficient to win over lukewarm casting directors and book you jobs.

SEOKJIN : hey!!!!!!!!

SEOKJIN : ???

SEOKJIN : wow. you’re leaving me on read.........the audacity.

SEOKJIN : i raised you on my back and this is how you repay me?

SEOKJIN : do you not respect your elders in your household?

SEOKJIN : i swear if you’re blowing me off for jimmy instead of answering your calls .........

SEOKJIN : or blowing jimmy. either one.

SEOKJIN : ok it’s been 10 min. i’m chill but not that chill.

SEOKJIN : can you please stop sucking dick and read your emails. it’s important.

YOU : ever heard of multitasking? god gave us two hands for a reason

SEOKJIN : oh. nasty.

SEOKJIN : way to ruin my lunch.

SEOKJIN : well. suck down that nut sauce asap

SEOKJIN : cos what i sent you needs your undivided attention

YOU : i’m nasty?? me????

YOU : you don’t hear me saying nUT SAUCE you freak

SEOKJIN : nutté sauce

SEOKJIN : there. fixed it.

YOU : ...that’s not even a thing

SEOKJIN : well it should be!

SEOKJIN : adding accents makes it instantly classier, don’t you think? nutté sauce. has a nice ring to it.

SEOKJIN : honestly. sounds like some fancy four star french starter now.

YOU : ???? it absolutely doesn’t but ok

SEOKJIN : imagine. during a scene you just yell out

SEOKJIN : “i’d like a serving of your nutté sauce to go”

YOU : dicks would shrivel up on the spot

SEOKJIN : what? i think it’s brilliant!

SEOKJIN : my talent is wasted as an agent. should’ve been a scriptwriter instead.

YOU : yes i’m sure the oscars are weeping over the missed opportunity

He takes your sarcasm at face value, feeding you more ridiculous variants of faux french cum lingo—that which you very wisely choose not to reply to. Instead of humoring him, you open the .pdf file he’s sent your way, ignoring the near-constant buzzing of your phone as he’s no doubt pestering you for an immediate answer.

Had it not been necessary for business, you’d have blocked his number ages ago. In fact, after that nut sauce comment you’re seriously reconsidering, business obligations be damned.

To his credit, the film project he suggests you work on doesn't sound half-bad despite its questionable title. Why anyone would choose to name it THE SPERMINATOR is beyond you.

As you read through the proposition, you’re surprised to find it’s tamer than the initial imaginary scenario you’d played out in your head. Expecting to read through a long list of unnameable kinks and dicks, the scene description is rather domestic all things considered.

Your shoulders sag in relief. You enjoy sex as much as the next person, but even you have limits you’re not willing or eager to cross. You’re a human being, first and foremost, and, contrary to popular belief, not competing in the sex olympics.

From what you’ve read so far, nothing in Seokjin’s offer seems too strenuous or perverse. The scene in question is centered around a young, newly married couple trying to conceive for the first time and the sex acts are described as “romantic insemination” - whatever the fuck that means. The only complication you can think of is that you’ve never played the part of a married couple before. None of your previous films specifically target couples or women. Is romance something you can sell accordingly?

You’re quick to shake the concern off once you remember that no one cares if your acting is shit or not. All you probably have to do is yell out ‘Daddy’ a few times mid-thrust and call it a day.

Honestly, you’re a bit disappointed in Seokjin for choosing such a safe, no-risk project - especially since he constantly advocates the risk-return trade off as the way to live by. But you’re not about to start complaining. You’d rather shoot this type of innocuous scenario than ridiculous, hentai-like scenes involving freakish get-ups and toys of monster proportions not realistically made to fit in a vagina.

The deal is perfect. Almost too perfect.

Subconsciously, you must realize something is wrong. Maybe Seokjin’s many lessons have finally rubbed off on you because there’s a persistent voice in your ear warning you that the film proposition is a trap, one that you’ve unfortunately walked straight into.

Your wariness increases when he refuses to send you the script upon request. Alarm bells ring off but by then it’s too late.

“The thing is... Director Ryu wants to try a new type of project," Seokjin says over the phone once you call him up for answers. "He thinks he’s going to pioneer a new genre of porn and revolutionize the industry - his words, not mine.”

“What the hell does that even mean?”

“How do I explain this without you getting the wrong idea..."

“Is this meant to reassure me?!” Dread drips from your tone. You should’ve suspected something was off from the very moment Seokjin suggested to shoot vanilla porn as your next big project. What a joke.

“Calm down, it's not as bad as - whatever you're thinking.” Too bad that his attempts to calm you down have the opposite effect. “He’s been wanting to try out a new improvisation format for his porn movies.”

“Come again?”

A beat of uncomfortable quiet passes. Reluctantly, Seokjin explains, “Which means - there isn’t an actual script to go off of. That’s why I couldn’t send it to you - because there is none. He wants it to be as realistic and natural as possible so he’s looking for actors who can go with their gut and create their own scenario instead of ones who need to be directed.”

Your resounding silence speaks for itself.

Sure, sometimes they provide scripts to act as guidelines, roughly giving the actor an idea of how the scene will unfold, but no one is expected to follow it word for word. Most porn films rely on improvisation rather than scripts because of how notoriously bad porn stars are at acting and memorizing more than a few lines at a time, and the introduction scene never lasts very long anyway for it to make a noticeable difference. Besides, after filming a handful of movies, you’ve noticed the dialogue is more or less all the same.

What bothers you is that this director wants you to carry out a movie that relies heavily on improvised dialogue. Convincingly.

“C’mon,” Seokjin tries when you refuse to deign him with an answer. “It’ll be fun. You like acting, right?”

“Seokjin...” You pinch the bridge of your nose and try to keep your composure in check. “How do I break this down for you? I think you’re forgetting the most crucial detail here - I can’t act! The closest I've ever gotten to acting is faking an orgasm and I’m pretty certain that doesn’t count."

“And you do that very well!" says Seokjin encouragingly. "You'll be fine. Don’t stress over it. Your scenes with Min Yoongi last time were perfectly acceptable!”

“That’s the thing.” Stress makes your voice raise a half-step. “He did, like, 90% of the acting! Back then, all I had to do was moan and act like a slut! Which hardly counts - I was being myself. Whatever this - thing - you’re attempting to rope me into - I’m not qualified for it.”

“Sweetheart, we’re not aiming for the fucking Oscars here.” When he laughs, it’s practiced enough to sound sincere. “At the end of the day, it’s still porn. Nobody’s expecting you to be the next Meryl. And besides,” he presses on, clearly refusing to change his mind. “This is exactly what you need right now. Something fresh, something new. If you pull this off, you’ll gain exposure.”

“If I pull it off. Big if."

“I know it sounds like a gamble. I get it, I do. But remember what I always say? High risk—”

“Yes, yes. High reward. I get it.” Your frown deepens. “There’s no way to know this will work, though.”

“A good co-star already guarantees you half of the success. And luckily for you, the guy they signed on seems like the real deal. He’s hot, you’re hot. People will pay money to see you two fuck regardless of how good or bad the acting is.”

“Well. That’s reassuring,” you say, voice as flat as a board. “Although I suppose watching porn on mute is always an option if it comes to that.”

“It was a joke!” What worries you is that it doesn’t sound like it is. “You have nothing to worry about. I’ve seen some of your co-star’s tapes. He’s got a mouth on him, if you know what I mean. Just let him lead and it’ll go swimmingly.”

“It’s one thing to follow someone’s lead during sex but you want me to - to improvise for God knows how long! That’s just asking for a disaster to happen.”

“You said you were up for a challenge!” Seokjin throws your words back at you, his tone accusing.

“And you said this would be beneficial for my career! How is making a fool out of myself going to help me any? I don’t want to be remembered as the girl who can’t act to save her life.” You want to cry in frustration. If you had wanted to act you would’ve chosen that as your major in college. ��I don’t - I can’t do this. I’m not - this isn’t what I signed up for! How do you expect me to convince viewers what they’re watching is real...”

“Just—” Exasperated, he takes a deep breath. Exhales. “Trust me. When have I ever been wrong about film projects.”

Is putting your career at risk really worth it? You’re not sure anymore.

On the bright side, it’ll finally get Seokjin off your back, you reason, trying to remain positive. That in itself is worth celebrating, right?

Fine. You’ll agree to it out of pettiness. Once Seokjin realizes what a terrible idea this entire ordeal is, you won’t hesitate to rub it back in his face. He’ll never hear the end of it.

"Who am I working with, anyway?”

"Ah, hm, well." Hesitation creeps up his voice for the first time, putting you instantly on edge. "...You won't know him. He's new to the scene - got started a month or two ago, I forget."

"Great. Not only am I being used as a lab rat for this director to experiment on but you're also pairing me with a fucking rookie. Jesus.”

"He’s not half bad! He’s not bad at all, actually. I wouldn't be insisting if I didn't trust him not to blow his load early."

"Aren’t I lucky,” you deadpan. “So I don't have to worry about him busting a nut before the director gives the signal?"

“All you’ll have to do is act like a married couple with baby fever,” he talks over you, ignoring your overflowing sarcasm. “And how hard can that be? You’ve been loved up with Jumin for a month now - that’s plenty enough practice if you ask me. I know you’ll be able to sell that romantic shit to the public without too much trouble.”

“It’s Jimin,” you correct from force of habit.

You’re promptly ignored — not that you expected anything less from him.

"Just give it a thought? And get back to me when you make up your mind. The sooner the better. The offer won't stay on the table forever." Even over the line, you can picture Seokjin raising his eyebrows at you, expectant. “If you’re serious about this job, you know what you have to do.”

You both know that you’ll accept the offer. Seokjin’s got you all figured out. As much as you don’t like being pushed around, the need to prove yourself is your main driving factor. The acquaintances who sneer at you, the family members who’ve shun you, the peers who expect you to burn out after the five month mark—you’d rather roll over and die than prove their misconceptions right.

It’s a matter of pride when you sniff and reply, “I’ll think about it.”

But the decision is already made before the call ends.

SCENE 02 - THE SPERMINATOR. TAKE 02. ROLL B.

Eight days later you find yourself squeezed into a brazenly short dress that zips in the front, more fit for a night out in a club than a dinner at home. It’s so ridiculously tight, you feel like a prey being swallowed down by a snake. There’s no room to breathe. You can’t wait for the scene to start, if only so you can dispose of the piece of fabric and never wear it again.

Unfortunately, your outfit gets worse because thrown over the clubbing attire is a frilly apron with small hearts embroidered along the hem. The mismatch is jarring. You’re not sure what look the stylist is going for but the end result is very...peculiar.

You comfort yourself with the knowledge that it could always be worse.

A quick glance at the digital clock on your phone confirms that you’re running on time. Good. After your last gig, the last thing you want is to spend hours waiting for the personnel to set up the cameras and sound equipment correctly.

Thankfully, today’s team works like a well-oiled machine. All that’s left are the last-minute preparations before the shoot begins.

Your false eyelashes are still drying when Seokjin elbows you sharply in the ribs. You crack open an eye to glare at him. “Ouch - ah, seriously? What is it now?”

“That’s him, that’s him!” Seokjin whispers under his breath, his gaze glued to a point somewhere beyond your shoulder. “Wooow. Aren’t you a lucky bitch? I’d gargle his nutté sauce for breakfast, if you get what I mean. He looks way better in person, damn.”

“Firstly - please never say that out loud again.” You fake a gag. “How do I buy myself a new set of ears?”

Seokjin ignores your dramatics. He shoots you a look. “You let that last guy draw a starfish on your face with his crème de la nut but did you hear me go sick?”

“That’s not the same and you know it!” Your jaw drops in indignation. “And can you stop trying to make nut cream a thing for the love of—”

“What’s this about nut cream?”

You whip your head around, mortification already etched onto your features. Your mouth opens, defense at the ready, only for your throat to clamp up.

“Oh.” You blink up in surprise because - well, Seokjin’s earlier assessment isn’t embellished. The guy is fit as fuck.

You’d seen photos in passing, had even googled his name out of curiosity, but the two-dimensional version of him pales to his real life physique. There’s a sharpness to his features that the camera fails to pick up on, a vibrancy that gets lost in the medium.

“Hey. I’m Hoseok.” His grip is firm, assertive, and your eyes naturally wander over his form. The loose muscle tee he’s thrown on puts his toned arms on display and makes it easier to admire the seemingly endless expanse of sun-kissed skin. He’s neither too thick nor too spindly, his muscles lean and firm instead of bulging. Strong but not intimidating. “I look forward to working with you.”

“Likewise.” You swallow, mouth dry.

You expect him to leave it at that like most of your past co-stars usually do. Or worse - for him to abandon all pretenses and cross lines that aren’t meant to be crossed. As someone who has experienced it all - from standoffish to creepy and vile - nothing surprises you anymore.

But unlike your, admittedly low, expectations, his gaze is warm and friendly. He speaks smoothly, leaving no time for an awkward silence to instill itself.

“Yeah, I know who you are! I saw a video or two of yours before - you were featured on the agency’s main page last month, right? Fuckin’ genius, by the way. Best stuff I’ve seen in a long ass time.” An easy grin sits on his face, nothing about it fake or contrived. “I hope we get along today. I haven’t done much work myself - yet anyway - but I hope this can be a good experience for the both of us.”

“You’ll be in good hands,” Seokjin assures, patting your shoulder like a proud parent. “_____ here is the best talent I’ve signed on.”

“That I can believe,” Hoseok chimes, his smile never waning. “I’ve heard good stuff about you. I won’t lie - it reassured me a fuck ton when I heard I’d be working with you. The stuff we’re doing is, well, it’s a bit of a gamble at this point, but I’m sure it’ll go well because I’ll be working with you.”

For a brief, embarrassing moment, you’re robbed of words, unable to respond to his flattery. From experience, you know to be wary of guys like him. Whenever someone lays it on thick they always have an ulterior motive. But what could possibly be his?

“Seokjin’s saying that because I’m the only one who can stand his nagging,” you finally say, your shoulders stiff. Maybe it’s because you’ve just met, but it’s hard to figure him out and it doesn’t help that you’re naturally wary of strangers.

“Oh hush. You love me.” Sensing how guarded you’ve become, Seokjin mercifully offers you an out. “It was nice meeting you, Hoseok. Wish we could stay and chat but she has to get ready to film the pre-interview portion.”

“Oh yeah, that’s cool. Catch you later.”

You offer a quick smile he returns tenfold, its brightness momentarily dazzling you.

Slightly dazed from the intensity of it, you stagger behind Seokjin, sun spots dotting your vision. Your surroundings blur together as your mind tries to recover from the interaction.

“Sooooooooo?” Seokjin sing-songs once you’ve walked far enough to be out of earshot. His brows are raised knowingly, an infuriating type of smugness clinging to his features. “What did I tell you! He’s hot enough to single-highhandedly melt a glacier, huh?”

You scoff, not willing to admit anything. “He’s okay.”

“Oh c’mon. He’s baby daddy material for sure. Which works out well for you since he’s gonna pump one into you later.”

For once the grimace that crosses your face isn’t exaggerated. “Please. Stop. Talking. I’m this close to heaving out my lunch.”

You’re not even joking with that one. Attractive as Hoseok may be, any talk of baby-making is enough to dissipate any smidgens of lust.

The reminder of what the upcoming scene entails and the expectations people carry crash down on you like a pile of bricks. Although you’ve done your best to ignore the fact you’ll be acting today, the meeting with Hoseok yanks you harshly back to reality.

You’re going to act. As a married couple. Trying to conceive a baby.

Three things that have never, ever been on your bucket list are now about to be crossed out in the span of the same afternoon. To that you can only say - what the fuck is my life.

Like a mounting wave before the inevitable crash, panic crests within you. You feel it gradually build and build, flooding your lungs and every crevice of your body with overwhelming anxiety.

Seokjin sighs. “How are you going to make it through today? The whole point of the sex scene is to get you pregnant. Or fake pregnant. You know what I mean.”

“Um...” You try to laugh but it comes out shaky. Seokjin shoots you a concerned look. “I’ll be fine! Really! I can do it. It’s just acting like you said, right? It’s not like he’s actually gonna knock me up in real life. So. Totally fine. It’s fine. Perfect.”

Seokjin’s concern grows. His eyebrows pinch together and his expression turns serious. He asks with no trace of mockery, “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay!” you reply. It’s too rushed of an answer to convince him. Your palms feel clammy and you wipe them off your damned apron. “Just. Nervous. Y’know.”

His steps slow to a halt and he places a warm, heavy hand on your shoulder. The weight, familiar and comforting, grounds you to reality. “Hey. What’s there to be nervous about? You got this.”

“Yeah.” You nod. Maybe if you say it enough times you’ll trick yourself into believing it. “I’ve got this.”

“Look. Let me be honest for a second. I’ve been an agent for eight years now and I’ve seen a lot of talents come and go. No pun intended.” You smile back at him weakly. “You’ve got something...extra a lot of them lacked. I knew the moment I saw you on film you’d go far. The energy you bring onscreen is insane. I know today might seem new and strange - but so was your first ever professionally shot film, right? And you got through that fine. You’ll do great. I know it. And, not to toot my own horn, but I’m always right.”

That earns him a laugh. The nerves are still there but thanks to his pep talk it’s easier to breathe.

Despite being a big pain in the ass, Seokjin is exemplary at his job. Without him, you’re acutely aware you wouldn’t have gotten half as far as you have. Having him by your side is a reassurance in itself.

Someone calls your name, pulling you from your thoughts. When you turn around, you’re face to face with the round, bespectacled face of Director Ryu. You reckon he’s in his early forties but he acts younger than his age. It’s your first time working with him but so far he’s been nice enough, if a little full of himself. Not that you’re unaccustomed with working alongside conceited colleagues.

“Oh good, you’re back. You can get seated for the interview bit.” He points over to a chair placed in front of a pale yellow wall. From close up, you can see a paint job is in order, the old coat chipping off in several places. “Alright, this won’t last long - just need you to answer some questions on tape and we’ll be good to go.”

“Sure thing.” You nod and follow his directions, sitting still while the hair and make-up artist steps up to give your lips a final touch-up.

Strictly speaking, the before and after interviews aren’t a necessity. In your experience, directors mostly film the short question-and-answer sequence when you’re set to film hardcore sex scenes as a way to show viewers everything is consensual and that you thoroughly enjoyed the experience despite whatever might have transpired on screen.

You reckon the director wants to film you today to document the process behind his “groundbreaking film project”. Cue roll of eyes.

Somebody needs to tell him he isn’t inventing anything, you think while watching him fiddle with the camera until he’s completely satisfied with the angle. All he’s done so far is add unnecessary pressure on you. You hope Hoseok is faring better because the amount of performance anxiety you’re experiencing is an instant boner killer.

“You nervous?” the director asks once he’s done adjusting the camera lens.

While by some standards you’re still considered a newbie in the industry, you’ve done this enough times to fall into a routine. Wake-up, breakfast, get ready, arrive before call time, fill out all the paperwork and get ready to shoot your solo stills. It’s familiar enough that you’ve long stopped getting pre-performance jitters.

Today’s rush of anxiety is as surprising as it is unwelcome. They don’t want to hear that particular truth though, so you keep your reply sweet and bubbly.

“Nah,” you grin, wide and easy. “I’m super excited to film today!”

“Oh yeah? Is it perhaps because of your co-star?”

Your smile freezes for a second. Somewhere over the director’s shoulder you can see Seokjin nodding enthusiastically while giving you the double thumbs up. “Hoseok? He’s hot, sure.”

“Ooh. Already on a first name basis?”

“Hm?” you let out a noise of polite confusion, only belatedly realizing that his viewers know him better as his porn alias, J-Hope. But there’s no way in hell you’re going to yell that out loud while he’s fucking an orgasm out of you. Not only does it sound ridiculous but it’ll shatter whatever carefully crafted illusion you manage to build. “Um, yes. We’re getting to know each other. He’s very friendly.”

“I’m sure he is.” And there’s an implication there that doesn’t sit too well with you but thankfully Director Ryu chooses to move on and put that particular subject to rest.

“You ever shoot an insemination scene before?”

“Not yet.” You make sure to keep the smile on your face even if your cheeks are beginning to hurt. “I can’t wait to get to it. It’s a fantasy I’ve always had but never tried out for myself. I’m excited to film a first on camera!”

The director has yet to call you out for your bullshit so you slowly start to relax. Acting is a bit like lying, isn’t it? Maybe you can get through today after all.

You breeze through the rest of the questions, forcing out practiced laughs here and there all whilst keeping your voice syrupy sweet. It’s quick work, especially when you know what to expect. Before you know it, it’s already time to film the pièce de résistance. Everyone that’s allowed on set during filming filters into the kitchen, conversations between crew members dying down as they use their last recreational moments to check their phones.

The director’s filming style exempts you from shooting the customary pre-shoot sex stills which are essentially promotional pictures of you and and your partner in every sex position that you’ll be filming for real later on. You’re thankful for that, at least. Even with all of your on-camera experience, staying perfectly silent and still with someone’s dick inside you is no easy feat. It’s worse when you have to keep eye contact with your co-star and fake sexual gratification because the shot calls for it.

Hoseok waves at you from the other side of the room, the hair and makeup artist dusting some powder across the slope of his nose.

How can he look so relaxed?! You’re barely holding your lunch down. Honestly, it’s a miracle you’re able to now tat the butterflies are back in full force, making a mess of your stomach.

You feel queasy but try not to make it too obvious even as Seokjin comes around to check up on you. The last thing you want to do is make a scene, especially when your onscreen counterpart's demeanor is making you look amateurish in comparison.

Maybe Hoseok is a better actor than you’re able to give most porn stars credit for because try as you might, you fail to detect any nervous undercurrent in his tone. For someone who is supposedly starring in his first major project, he doesn’t seem all too bothered about how it might play out.

How does he do it?! In all honesty, if Seokjin hadn’t informed you of his rookie status, you would be none the wiser.

There’s an ease with which he carries himself, a fluidity in his movements that belies no anxiety or awkwardness. Even from this distance you can tell that there’s never a hint of hesitation in his movements or speech; he doesn’t seem self-conscious in the least. He talks and moves with the assurance of someone who has been in the industry for months, not weeks.

In that moment you envy him. You’re so nervous about the upcoming scene that it’s hard to feign an air of professional detachment.

His boisterous laugh is loud enough to carry across the room and interrupt your line of thought. When you look over at him again, you find him folded in half, hands clutching his sides, and wearing a grin so bright it eclipses the entirety of his face.

“He seems nice.”

You jump, startled by Jimin’s sudden appearance. You hadn’t even heard him draw near. With a sheepish expression, you turn to look up at him only to find him already staring off into the distance. There’s a strange look painting his face, and a small crease in his brow that usually isn’t present. When you follow his line of sight, you’re met with the image of Hoseok talking animatedly to the the small crowd that’s flocked around him.

“Yeah.” You aren’t sure what else to say. Although there’s no sarcasm attached to his words, you can’t help but find Jimin unnaturally tense.

Which makes sense, you concede guiltily. A mere stranger is minutes away from dicking down his girlfriend. You’re not sure how you’d feel if you were to stand in his shoes.

You breathe in deep, silently willing away the knot of distress in your belly. There’s nothing wrong with what you’re doing. It’s just a job. A profession that Jimin has always been fully aware of, even before you’d begun dating.

Even as you remind yourself of the facts, it does little to dispel the lingering feelings of doubt and guilt.

“Hey.” Jimin frowns at you in concern. “You alright?”

“Yep!” you say then immediately sigh, knowing that lying to your boyfriend is pointless. “I’m just a bit nervous.”

“Nervous?” Jimin’s worry grows, the crease in his brow deepening. “What about?”

“Just—” You gesture around with your hands. “All of this.”

“Oh.” He looks genuinely surprised. “But you don’t usually get nervous... Is it the impregnation thing you’ll have to do? I know you’ve said you’re not a big fan of that. Or... Is it something else?”

“I don’t know,” you answer truthfully. It’s a bit of everything yet at the same time nothing you can clearly pinpoint and put a finger on. In all logic, you know that you’re feeling disproportionately stressed out but you can’t stop yourself from feeling how you feel. “It’s not that I don’t want to film. I just - I’m worried I won’t do well.”

Jimin takes your hand between his, running a thumb in soothing circles across the surface of your skin. He repeats the motion several times until your heartbeat is completely synced to his touch.

“You’ll do great. You always do.” The lines of his mouth bend into a smile. “I’ll be on the sidelines cheering you on.”

“My very own cheerleader.” You allow yourself to relax and and smile back fondly.

As much as you worry about Jimin being upset with you filming sex scenes with other actors, he’s never been anything less than the supporting boyfriend you’ve always dreamed of. Seokjin calls Jimin’s constant presence on set maddening, but you’re thankful that your boyfriend sticks by your side while others might flee or shame you.

Suddenly, you’re overcome with emotion. Maybe it’s the stress, or maybe today you’re more hormonal than usual, but your eyes threaten to well up as you grip his palm tightly in your own. “Jimin, I—”

“Okay, lovebirds!” Seokjin claps his hands once, effectively ruining your moment. “Hand-holding time is over. We’re moving onto the more R-rated stuff.”

“Seokjin!” you hiss, upset over his horrible timing.

“It’s fine.” Jimin shakes his head. “He’s right, shoot’s about to start anytime soon. I need to get ready, too.”

“Right.”

Reluctantly, you let go of Jimin’s hand.

“Don’t pout.” He laughs and presses a quick, chaste kiss to your mouth. “I’ll wait for you after filming and we can go grab dinner. Italian sound fine?”

“Yes, yes, yes.” You bob your head eagerly. “I’m literally dying for carbs. Italian sounds more than perfect.”

“Good.”

You can’t resist sneaking in one last peck before Jimin retreats behind the cameras and you’re pulled to stand in front of a granite kitchen tabletop. Director Ryu is waiting for you, Hoseok already by his side.

From close-up, your co-star looks even more striking. The make-up artist’s work highlights his features without going overboard. The lines of his face are sharp, like every single one has been meticulously drawn. What usually would give someone a hostile and unapproachable impression is balanced out by the liveliness that lights up his eyes and his wide smile that looks almost too big for his face.

“It’ll start in the kitchen and then we’ll work out way to the bedroom.” Director Ryu points down the hallway. “I was thinking of keeping it all in the bedroom but nothing screams domesticity more than kitchen scenes, right?”

“Uh-huh.” You give a polite nod. Next to you, Hoseok coughs into his fist.

“Depending on how this goes we might have to take several takes - just keep that in mind.”

That’s nothing out of the ordinary. Sex scenes are never filmed in one take. There’s always one thing or another - a smoke break, a flaccid dick, a lighting fixture that needs to be changed. A 45 minute porn movie is the result of the editing team that painstakingly goes through, cuts and assembles hours of footage.

“Remember,” Director Ryu instructs, one hand cocked on his hips. “You’re still stuck in that honeymoon phase. All the two of you want to do is fuck like horny bunnies but your husband’s been away all day. Both of you have been waiting for this reunion for hours and hours. I want to feel that level of tension, got it?”

Hoseok nods like a dutiful student, his expression comically serious. You’d laugh if it wasn’t so inappropriate.

“Yep. Ok. Got it.”

You just want the director to stop talking so that you can get this over with quickly. The monologue is just delaying the inevitable.

Director Ryu spends extra minutes setting up the scene, emphasizing how in love and passionate the two of you should behave, describing how long you’ve been wanting to try for a baby, going into explicit detail about what the sex scenes should convey to the viewers. He just goes on and on and on with no end it sight.

At this point even Hoseok is growing restless. His feet refuse to stay still and his eyes dart around the room as if his attention is drawn elsewhere. It’s Hoseok’s constant fidgeting that draws Director Ryu out of his monologue. He finally senses that there’s a unanimous decision to start filming and retires behind the camera to settle himself in his appointed chair.

Hoseok shares a long look with you. “Is he always like that?”

“God, I hope not.” You lower your voice to whisper, “Seokjin - my agent - he says apparently Director Ryu wanted to make a career off of documentaries once he graduated from film school but quickly switched genres once he saw how little filming the mating habits of koalas was earning him.”

“Ah,” Hoseok nods conspiratorially before his features shift into something more serious. “Hey. Before we start, is there anything you’re not comfortable with? I know this scene is supposed to lean towards vanilla but you never know... I’d rather make sure. Just in case.”

You blink, taken aback. Hard limits aren’t really discussed outside of hardcore scenes. Sure, everyone is given a safeword before shoots begin but even screaming out “STOP!” or “Can we take a break from filming?” is enough to put the filmed scene on hold.

“Ah... No. I’m okay. But thanks for asking.” A moment passes and you add, “Is there - are there any words or kinks that bother you?”

Hoseok shakes his head. “Not for this one. Just - if there’s anything you’d rather me not say or do, don’t hesitate.”

You nod in reply, not sure of what else to say. Unfortunately your past experiences with men have made you suspicious of any form of flattery or kindness.

Soon, though, you relax. What reason is there for Hoseok to deceive you? Maybe he still has that rookie mindset. You can relate to the eagerness and the desire to do well you’d had in your early days of filming.

“Alright. Good luck, Hoseok.”

His smile is so bright that it erases your previous doubts. Surely someone with ill-intentions wouldn’t be able to smile like that, right? You return a tentative smile of your own. Something akin to understanding seems to pass between you. Although you don’t know Hoseok and he doesn’t know you, you trust him enough for this scene.

The moment is broken when Director Ryu directs Hoseok to wait outside the camera’s line of vision and you’re left alone in front of the kitchen stove.

Any moment now, you think. A telltale silence falls over the staff members as they all anticipate the director’s signal for the scene to start.

The first few seconds are always tricky. You’re no actress. There’s no switch inside of you that flips on and off as soon as the director commands “ACTION!” and “CUT!”. The world around you doesn’t fade out, your ‘porn star persona’ doesn’t claw its way out from within you and lunge for the nearest available dick. Sometimes, if you’re not attracted to your onscreen partner, you find your mind drifting off, making an inventory of your fridge and wondering what you’ll be able to cook up for dinner with two eggs and leftover rice.

When Director Ryu shouts “ACTION!” and slams down the plate, you freeze up. Usually you have an idea of what to say or do, but the words and actions won’t come to you this time.

Someone behind the cameras lets out a light cough. Oh right, you blink down at the simmering pot of water in front of you. The cameras are recording you making an utter fool out of yourself.

The spike of humiliation forces you into action. You’re more professional than this, damn it. You give the water a tentative stir, movements wooden and stiff. It’s hard to concentrate. All you can do is watch as the water simmers to a boil, the sound of bubbling water like a roaring current in your ears.

A door creaks open, signalling your onscreen husband’s return home.

To your horror, you find that you’re unable to move, as if your limbs had forgotten their primary function.

Before the scene had started, you had envisioned yourself throwing yourself into the arms of your loving husband and welcoming him home with a shower of kisses and words of affection. You had internally rehearsed it, had even thought of what you could say to him between pecks, but the reality is far removed from what you had practiced.

“Darling?” Hoseok’s voice is soft but loud enough for you to hear him over the angry sounds of boiling water. The vowels he uses are rounded, different from the bright pep in his tone from earlier.

You want to respond but your tongue feels like lead, too heavy in your mouth to articulate and form the proper reply. What are you supposed to call him, anyway? Honey? Hoseok? A nickname derived from his name? What do newlywed spouses call each other? Why couldn’t you give this more thought before the cameras began rolling?

Panic balloons inside you, threatening to burst. For a terrifying and mortifying second, you think that you’ve gone and ruined everything. The muscles in your shoulders bunch up and you half-expect the director to shout ‘CUT!’, give you a public scolding for missing your cue and berate you for your overall ineptitude.

Hoseok’s arms wrap around your middle before you have time to agonize any further. Just as you suspected, his arms are strong, the lean muscles flexing as he readjusts his hold around your waist. What you don’t expect, however, is the unadulterated warmth he radiates. His body burns hot; even through the layers of clothing separating the two of you, his warmth seeps through. But it’s strangely comfortable, not unlike basking in the afternoon sun during the last days of summer. You let yourself melt into his embrace.

“You’re not even going to say hi?”

With your back turned to him, you can’t be sure, but you imagine the pout playing at his lips. He tucks his chin in the crook of your shoulder. If he feels any awkwardness, he doesn’t let it show.

Miraculously, your mouth seems to be in working order again. It takes you a few seconds too long to find the appropriate answer, but it finally comes before the director can cut in to make any remarks.

“If I turn around right now, I won’t be able to keep my hands off of you,” you explain. “And - I don’t want to ruin our dinner.”

Just to keep up the pretense, you add a handful of spaghetti into the pot of water.

Hoseok lets out a hum from behind you. He’s standing close enough for you to feel the vibrations low in his throat.

“I hate it,” he says after a stretch of silence.

You pout. “What? My cooking? What’s wrong with it?”

“No, silly. I hate -” he sighs, buries his face in your neck before looking back up so the camera can capture his expression. “I hate not being with you. I missed this.”

He hugs you from behind before kissing your neck. It starts off innocuous - his lips pressing short, chaste kisses down the column of your throat. Quickly, however, his mouth lingers on your skin.

“Ah - don’t. I’m cooking!” you shriek when his teeth scrape over a sensitive spot under your jaw. Your protests are half-hearted and go by unacknowledged. The pot of pasta could overflow right now and no one would care, least of all you.

Hoseok noses your neck while he tightening his grip around your waist, the movement bringing his hips flush against your lower back. You give the pot in front of you a very unenthusiastic stir, attention focused instead on the way his lips tenderly skim the surface of your skin, testing and teasing. The sensation feels nice - and keeps your mind off of the several cameras directed your way.

“But I went all day missing my princess,” he sighs, open mouthed against your neck. “Spent all day thinking about you.”

“Y-you did?”

“Mhm.” He gives your exposed shoulder a peck. Then another. “Thought about your cute little laugh.”

His line catches you off guard. Your mouth opens but no sound comes out.

Porn is often crude and to the point. You’re used to men complimenting your body parts or praising your skills in bed. You’d never minded, either. But Hoseok’s choice of words make you eager in a different way.

“What else?”

“Well, your cooking, for sure. Without you I’d be eating out of ramyeon packets for breakfast, lunch and dinner.”

You let out a snort.

“That’s true. Your cooking is so horrible it’s offensive.”

“Hey now. Don’t be mean.” He pokes your cheek before pinching your chin to turn your head towards him. “I can cook a decent omelet.”

Hoseok’s a good few inches taller than you so you have to strain your neck to be able to look him in the eyes. The slight discomfort barely registers. You’re too transfixed by the way he stares at you. It’s hard to place the expression because you’ve never seen it on a fellow actor before. Normally, the men you work with stare you down with hungry and lustful intent, but there’s none of that in Hoseok’s gaze.

The expression on his face cannot be described as innocent, either. He licks his lips, drawing your attention to the pretty lines of his mouth delicately curved into a smile.

“I missed the way you feel in my arms.” His voice sounds deeper, this time. “I missed holding you close to me. Kissing you. Reminding you how much I love you. I missed the look in your eyes when - “

“When?”

He smirks. “You sure you want to hear it? What if you can’t keep your hands off of me after? I don’t want to be held responsible for soggy pasta.”

“Hoseok,” you whine, one of your hands reaching down to slap at the hold around your stomach.

He tightens his hold around you and your breath hitches, suddenly all too aware of how firm his body feels behind you. The smirk on his face widens as he leans forward to confess his next words.

“I was thinking about how I miss the look on your face whenever I make your pussy sloppy with my cum.”

“Hoseok!”

One moment he’s crooning sweet words of affection, the next he’s spitting out filth. The quick back-and-forth gives you whiplash but you can’t say you dislike it. Unlike the tired and overused clichéd porn scenarios you’ve filmed in the past, Hoseok’s unpredictable behavior has the advantage of keeping you on your toes.

“You missed it too, hm?” He kisses your neck, lips soft and warm. “Kept thinking about how pretty you sound. So, so pretty. Especially when I give you what you want.”

“How would you know what I want?” You turn your head forwards so you can pretend to check up on the cooking pasta. “You were away all day.”

Hoseok’s eyes flash dangerously.

“How would I know?” he parrots back, his tone sweet and mocking. Something about it sends tingles down your spine and has you standing up straighter. “I always know what my pretty wife wants. I know because your body can’t lie to me.”

His hands wander, one of them inching up the material of your frilly apron to reach between your breasts. The movement is slow enough for a camera to zoom in and follow its trail. Hoseok rests his hand on your left breast and gives it a squeeze.

“See?” He repeats the action. “Your heart’s racing like crazy.”

You swallow audibly, finding it hard to come up with a witty riposte.

He continues with a chuckle, “You can’t deny it, can you? Your body’s too honest for your own good. It’s okay. You don’t have to say you missed me. I know.”

His self-assured way of talking makes it easier for you to react. This - the cockiness, the playfulness - you’re familiar with.

You roll your eyes and continue to give the pot in front of you a few additional stirs only for your breath to hitch when he starts to grind his hips against your lower back in time with your stirs.

Fuck is your only coherent thought. He rolls his hips so well it’s impossible not to imagine them doing something else. Your bottom lip grows numb from how hard you bite it.

“Of course I missed you.” You keep your tone as light as possible, determined not to show that his words and actions affect you.

Hoseok’s eyes narrow. He removes his hands from around you but keeps his front pressed against your back. He smiles again, dimples poking through.

“You don’t sound convinced... That’s fine.” It sounds like the beginning of a challenge and you soon learn why.

His nimble fingers play with the knot of your apron and you tense, expecting him to make quick work of your clothes and dive straight into dessert, so to speak. Once again, he surprises you by leaving the apron alone, hands falling to his sides.

His knees hit the floor, the noise startling you. Before you have the chance to truly react, he’s quick to pull your hips backwards until your back is arched. The sudden change in position forces you to adjust your stance so as to keep your balance.

“Hoseok?” you start to question but he cuts you off with a tut and light smack to your ass.

“You just keep your eye on dinner like you were doing before.” His fingers play with the hem of your short dress, stretching the fabric until it bunches up around your hips and leaves your lacy thong on display. “You can do that, right?”

Flustered by the position he’s maneuvered you into, with your hips thrust back obscenely, legs splayed wide and pussy on show, you grip the wooden spoon in your hand with more force than necessary. “It’s just pasta. I can manage.”

Maybe you sound less indifferent than intended because Hoseok seems more amused than offended by your feinted nonchalance. He barks out a laugh, his hands spreading the meat of your cheeks aside to get a better view of your lace-covered bits.

Privately, you wish you could witness his reaction. If there’s anything that turns you on, it’s knowing how much someone else wants you. If feels good to know that you’re wanted and desired. Even if fucking is part of your job description, the act needs to be mutually enjoyable for you to be completely satisfied.

“Sure.” The lilt in his voice is so sweet that it borders on condescending. “While you do that, I think I’ll have my appetizer.”

It’s corny, overused and a little degrading - exactly the type of one-liner you’d ordinarily find in porn - but he gives you no time to call him out for it. As soon as he’s done talking, he wags his tongue out and drags it across the red lace, and the repeated up and down motions quickly dampen your panties.

You notice with great frustration that he takes care to avoid your clit, focusing instead on licking broad stripes over slit and, to your surprise, around your rim. He doesn’t stop until your underwear drips with the accumulation of your essence and his saliva. The soaked lace rubs against you, the rough texture adding pressure to your most sensitive zones, until you can’t tell if the extra sensation is a blessing or a curse. Your hips jerk forward every so often, unsure if you’d rather lean into or escape his torturous games. Because as amazing as Hoseok’s tongue feels, you know your body well enough to be able to tell that this particular tempo won’t bring you to your peak.

An appetizer, he had called it. That’s exactly what the teasing ministrations feel like - a small sampling before the main course. It’s satisfying and maddening in its own way. Good, but not enough to satisfy your ravenous appetite.

He unearths himself from your dripping core, chin shiny with your juices.

“Keep focus,” he instructs as he slots two fingers inside of you. You’re wet enough that they slide in without too much difficulty, the stretch making your stomach clench. “I thought you said you knew how to cook pasta.”

Against your will, you force yourself to focus on the bubbling water in front of you. As much as you want to push your hips back and ride his fingers until you’re pushed over the edge, you can’t take the humiliation of messing up pasta - even if it is for the sake of a porn scenario.

It’s fucking pasta! You have to be seriously inept to mess up such a simple dish...

But what should have been an effortless task becomes more challenging than expected. Hoseok refuses to go easy on you. If anything, your stubborn silence is all the motivation he needs to thrust his fingers inside of you harder, curving them at an angle that makes your knees wobble. You struggle to keep any incriminating noises at bay but despite your best efforts, several muffled moans slip out one after the other.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, the logical side of you points out how dangerous all of this is. What if, during your impending orgasm, your body seizes up and knocks the boiling water everywhere during the process? You quickly switch off the gas stove at the thought. Better be safe than sorry.

Just then, Hoseok adds his tongue to the mix, his fingers relentless in their pursuit of your pleasure. You bite back a curse as the wooden spoon slips from your hold and clatters to the floor.

“Ah fu - Oh God,” you stutter, hands holding on to the edge of the counter for dear life.

You’ve been eaten out God knows how many times in your life, but not many have instinctively known what really gets you going. Hoseok laps at your core, tongue collecting the moisture that seeps through the fabric of your ruined panties, while his fingers scissor you open for his cock.

Your stomach clenches as you imagine how well he’d fill you up. Who the hell would ever want pasta for dinner when Hoseok could feed you his cock instead? Definitely not you, that’s for sure.

It’s easy to picture it. All he’d need to do is stand up, unzip his pants and spear you open with a practiced roll of his hips. Maybe he’d make you toss a salad while he fucks you from behind, slapping your ass whenever you forget to keep stirring the ingredients together. Or perhaps he’d let you ride his dick on the kitchen floor, too impatient to make it to a more comfortable surface.

Your imagination knows no bounds. Once you start, you can’t stop thinking of more lascivious scenarios, each one more daring and debauched than the last. The heat between your legs becomes unbearable and still, you ache for more.

Hoseok pulls away from the apex of your thighs and snorts, the sound pulling you out of your depraved thoughts. The pace of his thrusting slows down without stopping completely, his fingers still pressed deep within you. Your arms tremble as they try to keep you upright, knuckles white from the strength of your grip around the counter’s edge. You exhale shakily.

A whine works its way into your voice. “Why - why’d you stop?”

Ignoring your protests, he pops his fingers out of you and indulges in one last lick of your swollen pussy, before gathering to his feet. He rolls down your dress back over your bum and peers over your shoulder, acting as nothing had ever happened.

“Thought you said you’d take care of dinner, hm?” Hoseok has the gall to hum in disappointment.

Your mouth opens in outrage. “You!”

Hoseok pouts. “I thought we said you wouldn’t blame me for any soggy pasta.”

“You’re impossible,” you say without any real heat to your words.

“But you love me that way.”

He smiles as he leans in to kiss you, lips sticky and warm. You follow the pace he sets as best you can, unaccustomed to the way he takes his time - like you’re a delicacy that demands to be savored and not gulped down. On-screen kisses are usually rushed, messy, with too much tongue. They’re a scripted affair, more for show than out of real affection. When men tuck back your hair behind your ear or palm your cheek, it’s only to better angle your face for the camera.

There is something intimate about the way he holds you, the way he looks at you. Inwardly, you can't help but admire his acting skills. There’s something tender about the way he handles you that’s distinctly different from any of your previous onscreen partners. Sure, you’ve shot vanilla sex scenes before, but never of this variety. None of the male actors’ performances have made you wish, even fleetingly, foolishly, that the scene was real.

Hoseok pulls up for air before your mind can wander off completely, his panting mouth a hairsbreadth away. Lips touching but not quite.

Blearily, you blink your eyes open. You’re close enough that your noses brush against one another, your breaths mingling together. Hoseok’s eyes remain closed throughout, like he doesn’t want the moment to end. He looks so content that you can’t bring yourself to do anything else but melt further into his embrace, gaze drinking in the minute details of his face - like the tiny moles dotting his cheekbone and upper lip and the pretty curve of his eyes.

“And cut!”

You both jump away from each other, startled. For a second there, the storyline you’d been instructed to follow had slipped from your mind. You’re unsure if the lapse in judgement is good or bad but you don’t let the question linger in your thoughts. You’ll have plenty of time to dissect your performance at a later time.

“Good, good. That wasn’t what I was expecting but I don’t think anyone has any objections?” Director Ryu claps his hands. “Fifteen minute break sound good everyone? Then we’ll relocate to the bedroom to shoot the next part.”

There’s a general hum of agreement from the crew members. Chairs and various other equipment scrape the floor as the personnel prepare to migrate to the other room for filming. Jimin’s gaze meets yours briefly but all he can do is smile weakly in your direction before he’s ordered to help push some of the equipment down the hall.

Someone comes up to you with a bottle of water while another steps closer to blot the beads of sweat near your hairline and reapply a layer of lipstick. The make-up artist knits her brows in concentration until she’s satisfied with the touch-ups. She then moves on to Hoseok, make-up palette and brush at the ready, and grumbles loudly about the sticky residue covering his face. You hear Hoseok bellow a laugh, the sound so infectious that even the make-up artist joins in.

You sip your water through a straw, careful not to smudge your freshly applied lipstick, and check your phone for any missed messages.

“Was all of that okay?”

“Hm?” You look up and are surprised to see Hoseok stare at you expectantly. “I, uh, know some girls aren’t into ass play. I’m sorry. I should’ve asked before jumping the gun but I figured - since you said there wasn’t anything major you were adverse to filming...”

His voice trails off.

“I liked it.” The admission is an easy one. “It did take me by surprise, but - I don’t have any complaints.”

“Ah, really?” Hoseok’s mouth corners upturn in relief. “That’s good to know. I was thinking - for the next scene - what if - I mean, are you okay with calling me Daddy?”

You tilt your head as you mull over the proposition.

“Daddy?”

“It’s not - you don’t have to. But listening to Director Ryu go on earlier made me think of something we could do. I think it fits well with the general idea. What do you think?”

“I’m fine with it.” Using the title doesn’t make you squeamish so you shrug in compliance. It’s not the first you’ve had to incorporate a daddy kink into the scene and it likely won’t be the last. You don’t see why you wouldn’t or shouldn’t do it with Hoseok. “I’ll follow your lead like I’ve been doing.”

It’s only as you’re following him towards the bedroom that you recall that you’ve yet to get to the crux of the scene - the damned impregnation kink. Even though you’re considerably less nervous than you’d been an hour or two ago, the thought of begging someone you barely know for something so intimate makes your stomach flip-flop. You don’t even have unprotected sex with Jimin and he’s your boyfriend.

Speaking of Jimin, you try to sneak in a peck or two before filming but Director Ryu intercepts you before you can make a beeline to where Jimin’s stationed behind a camera.

“How are you feeling?” The overhead light reflects off his round glasses and makes it impossible to hold eye contact unless you want to become semi-permanently blind.

“Good---”

“Wonderful. Well, we’ve positioned cameras here, here, and over there. There’ll be another camera man who’ll film with a handheld camera for closeups. Just keep that in mind. I know we’re giving you free-range to do what you feel is best and most natural but I’d hate to ask you to re-shoot because the camera couldn’t capture the both of you properly.”

You nod and he continues, “Also - please remember that you’re acting as a horny young married couple. I remember at that age I was up for anything, you get what I’m saying? People think just because you put a ring on your finger the sex automatically becomes stale. Fuck that. Show people married couples are freaks in the sheet.”

“Uh... Alright. I’ll keep that in mind.”

He claps a hand over your shoulder. “That’s the spirit.”

Freaks in the sheet? What did he expect you to do? Try out all the sex positions in the Kama Sutra?

“What did he want now?” Hoseok leans over to whisper once you’re seated comfortably on the bed. You’re hoping the mics don’t pick up the conversation but would rather not take the risk of being overheard bad-mouthing the director.

Shrugging, you say, “Just that this scene should be spicier.”

Hoseok raises his brow, lips quirking into a smirk. “That so?”

The same cockiness you’d caught a glimpse of during your escapade in the kitchen is back and the memory you associate it with makes the back of your neck prickle with heat. You clear your throat and avert your eyes.

Thankfully Director Ryu interrupts before Hoseok has the chance to fluster you further. You follow each of the director��s voiced directives until you’re comfortably seated on Hoseok’s lap, dress hitched around your waist because of how far your knees are spread on either side of Hoseok’s thighs. There’s a quick, last minute adjustment as Director Ryu ensures that the camera in the left corner picks up on everything it’s supposed to.

Satisfied, he lets you take the reins from there, then gives the cameras the signal to begin rolling.

You don’t waste a moment, taking his earlier commentary to heart. It’s your turn to pepper kisses all over Hoseok’s golden skin, leaving faint traces of rouge behind like an artist signing their own painting. You stop a few times to admire your work. Lip prints and lavender bite marks color his skin and the sight awakens a possessive streak you didn’t know you had.

Your enthusiasm to mark him up gets a little out of hand.

"Mhm." Hoseok grunts when you lick over a sensitive spot under his jaw. "Slow down, princess. There's no rush. We have all night."

He cups his chin between his hands so you have no choice but to relent and direct your gaze up at him. You’re pleased to see that he’s not completely indifferent to your touch; despite his instructions to take it slow, the smoldering look in his eyes tell a different story.

He runs the pad of his thumb over your lower lip, the pink flesh no doubt swollen. You take the digit in your mouth, unprompted, and run your tongue against its underside, wishing that his cock could fill your mouth instead.

Hoseok makes a noise low in his throat, not quite a growl but close.

"And I intend to take my time with you." The look he levels you with promises a night full of mind-numbing pleasure. Ribbons of heat curl around the base of your spine. "Want to make you feel good."

"You do," you agree, words muffled around the thumb you refuse to let go of.

You take a hold of his wrist and free your mouth, only to quickly replace it with his forefinger and middle finger. The stretch of two digits makes you moan lewdly.

Hoseok’s eyes darken. He lets you play for a few more seconds before he takes back control, his fingers pushing deeper into your mouth until they hit the back of your throat. You swallow down a gag, but his fingers don’t let you rest for long. He drags them over the flat of your tongue, watching as spit dribbles down past the sides of your mouth, and repeats the motion, pumping into your mouth steadily like he would a cock.

As nice as it feels to be filled with his fingers, whether in your cunt or mouth, you’re ready for more. Subconsciously, your hips grind down in his lap, shifting this way and that until you’re perfectly seated over his hardened length.

Drool is pushed out of your mouth as Hoseok squeezes a third fingers in with the other two. You suck harder, hoping that all your efforts will spur Hoseok into finally fucking you. The knowledge that he has to, at one point or another, keeps you from whining and begging pathetically for his cock. You can exercise patience if you put your mind to it; you’re sure of it.

Your on-screen husband decides to test that resolve.

His other hand starts to wander south, his fingers toying with the short hem of your dress that’s been rucked up even higher with all your rocking and grinding. The movement of your hips slow, your brain unable to keep up with the stimuli coming in all directions.

A crack resounds in the room, the sharp sound startling you more than the sting that accompanies it. Hoseok’s palm rubs over the heated area, only inflaming it further.

“And who told you you could stop?”

The second slap is notably harsher than the first, and your hips automatically lurch forward hoping perhaps to lessen the impact of the sting.

You know he doesn’t expect a verbal answer; his second hand keeps your mouth plugged up, making any attempt at talking unintelligible. It doesn’t stop you from trying, only because you know the muffled protest are greatly appreciated amongst viewers. And if the way Hoseok’s digs his fingers into your smarting ass cheek is any indicator, you’re confident that he also enjoys your squirming and messy display.

“Keep moving, princess. I need both your holes nice and wet.”

The way his voice dips an octave makes your stomach twist in arousal. You long to tell him that you’re sufficiently wet enough for him to slide his cock inside right away but all you manage are pitiful garbled words.

He raises an eyebrow at your delayed response and your hips move before he can smack the globes of your ass for a third time. You have an inkling he’ll only hit harder with the intention of leaving marks of his own all over your skin.

It’s a careful balancing act, but you figure it out as you go. Bounce too fast and the fingers in your mouth will make you gag. Move too slowly for his liking and he won’t hesitate to add to the collection of handprints on your ass.

You lose track of how long he makes you play this game. Your mind focuses on sucking while keeping your jaw slack enough to accomadate the width of three digits. Drool pools down your chin, and you’re certain whatever the make-up artist had done to your lips is now ruined. Worse off are your panties. At the stage they’re at now, you’ll have no choice but to throw them out. Hoseok’s pants might need be as unsalveagable as your thong, you think inwardly, judging by the large, dark wet spot you’re currently sitting on.

“Mmh, good girl.”

He gently slides his fingers out, strings of saliva attached. He hums in satisfaction at the lewd sight and rubs his fingers across your swollen lips and shiny chin, spreading the fluids and what’s left of your lipstick over your mouth. You swallow, mouth sore from being used roughly for so long.

“This hole is sufficiently wet, I think,” he appraises, eyelashes fluttering before he casts a long look down your body until it reaches where you’re seated on his clothed erection. “Let’s check this one too.”

The way he smirks at you but makes no move to check himself lets you know that he expects you to do the work.

You let your hands trail down your body slowly, cupping your breasts as you do, enjoying his hooded gaze and the way his cock twitches beneath you a bit too much. When you reach the hem of your dress, you lift your hips up to pull the fabric up to your navel giving an unobstructed view of your lace-covered pussy.

Hoseok stare intensifies but you don’t feel any embarrassment from the scrutiny. “Well you certainly look ripe.”

His fingers toy with the delicate string of lace around your hips. He lets the material snap against your skin a few times before he grows bored or impatient with his own game and gives the lace a harsh yank. It tears easily and the leftover scraps fall into his lap.

“... But just to be sure -” His hands grip your waist and manhandle you onto your hands and knees. Your head spins from how suddenly he’s moved you around to his liking that your arms give out and you fall face first into the clean smelling bed sheets. “Gotta give my favorite hole of yours a better look.”

His hands hoist your hips at a higher angle so that your soaked center is visible for the cameras to pan onto. Hoseok slides in two fingers easily, then a third. Loud, obscene noises echo in the otherwise quiet room, noises that are quickly joined by your unabashed moans of pleasure.

Your core is on fire. Hoseok’s fingers are just as good as you remember them to be. No, better. The three fingers pump into you in measured strokes, the drag slow enough to keep you dangling over the edge without pushing you over.

Hoseok spanks your ass, hissing between his teeth as you clench around his fingers, no doubt imagining your inner walls hugging his cock instead.

“Christ. You’re always such a soft, wet little thing down here,” he croons in dulcet tones. “I could play with you all day.”

You thrust your hips back, shameless.

“Please! Please Daddy, I’ll be so good, I just - please - I nuh, need it. Need your cock fucking me full. I’ll take it so good, you know I will. Want you to - please! Daddy, I need your cum.”

“Shit.”

He fumbles in his haste to flip you onto your back. He crawls over your body, and you watch fascinated as he dives down to kiss you like a man starved. He looks almost feral, pupils so dilated the brown of his eyes is almost gone.

Heat blooms in your stomach as he kisses you deeply. The press of his lips against yours renders you a little less coherent as time ticks on, every brush of his tongue making you a little more dizzy with want.

Everything about him burns. It feels like being kissed by the sun itself. Every caress, every lick and nip leaves you feverish all over, like your drunk off his touch.

"Let me," he says, pinching the zipper of your dress between his thumb and index finger.

You wrap your hand around his and guide his movements. His gaze never leaves yours and it makes shivers run down your back. Even though you're the one controlling his movements for the time being, the look in his eyes makes it abundantly clear that the control you wield is only temporary.

When your dress finally falls open, you try not to preen too much under the reverent look that falls over Hoseok’s face. Your back arches a little off the bed, pert breasts thrust towards him - an appealing offer he doesn’t dare refuse.

Hoseok circles a thumb around your nipple, rubbing and flicking until it hardens into a stiff peak.

You wonder, distantly, how this looks like from the outside looking in. The man in front of you is a stranger in all senses of the word. Yet the way he touches you - like there are years of built-up affection behind every gesture - makes you second guess everything you know.

"Fuckin' love your tits.” He sighs, awe reflected in the dark of his eyes. "Love playing with them. Love how wet it gets you, how hungry your little pussy gets."

"Please,” you mewl, his words igniting a new wave of heat. It rolls over your body, leaving no extremity untouched. You burn from the inside out with raw desire.

You squeeze your own breasts in a bid to get him to touch you more. Hoseok merely chuckles, finding your desperation entertaining. One of his hands reach down between you to play with the wetness that clings to your core like a second skin and it takes everything inside of you not to rub yourself against him like a bitch in heat.

"What is it, princess?" His lips quirk into a smirk like he already knows the answer. "You're looking quite needy. How did you manage to hold it in all this time?"

“Stop teasing,” you growl, the lack of friction making you irritable. "I need your cock. And why - why do you have so many fucking clothes on?”

He chuckles, chest vibrating in amusement.

“Take them off,” you insist. Then, you grudgingly tack on a “Please” for good measure.

As hot as Hoseok looks like in his “work clothes”, he looks infinitely better naked, you decide as he chucks off his button-down shirt and gets started on his leather belt. With each new piece of clothing that gets discarded, the anticipation building inside of you skyrockets.

You take a moment to soak in his lithe figure, not bothering to hide how affected you are by the view. He’s nicely sculpted; you can tell right away that he takes care of himself. Swimming or dancing maybe? You hesitate between the two. His muscles are lean, nothing like the bulging biceps and thick forearms typical of the stereotypical gym rat.

Hoseok’s dick is, unsurprisingly, as pretty as the rest of him. It’s long and curved, a prominent vein running along its underside. The thatch of pubic hair that rests above his dick is neatly trimmed, the dark hair contrasting with the tan skin of his abdomen and the rosy hue of his erect length. Your eyes swoop down his thighs, licking your lips unwittingly at the alluring sight presented to you.

“Daddy,” you say, the whine in your voice unmistakable. “Want your cock.”

For a brief moment you’re tricked into believing he’s given in to your demand, but find yourself disappointed when he contents himself with rubbing his hardened member between your thighs, the glide slippery thanks to the copious amount of your essence that’s pooled there.

“Like this?” Hoseok asks, tone too sweet to be anything but mocking. The head of his cock bumps into your swollen bundle of nerves one, two, three times. You keen, your hips canting upwards in a bid to get more friction. “Want to rut against me until you get nice and creamy?”

He uses his right hand to spread your slick lower lips so that he can nestle his cock snuggly between them. He rolls his hips, the undulations fluid and dirty, and smirks at how you moan brokenly beneath him.

Your stomach clenches. “Need it in me."

"You'll get it," he promises after kissing you sloppily, lips sucking on your tongue. His breath is ragged but his voice steady, firm. "I'll give you everything you need. Make you cum so many times you know who owns this sweet pussy."

He speaks so surely, carries himself with so much confidence, that in the moment you can't help but believe him. The line between staged and reality blurs and you find yourself nodding eagerly, begging him as best you can to give you what you want.

The first tentative push of his dick wipes you clean of coherency. He slowly eases himself into you, reaching forward to lace his fingers with yours. It’s - more intimate than you expected. He squeezes your hand tightly in his when he finally manages to bury his entire length inside of you.

“Perfect.” He kisses the side of your temple before drawing back, his hard cock dragging deliciously against you. With a fluid hip thrust, he slides back in and you feel the stretch moreso this time around. The curvature of his cock has him pressing up against your walls in a way that robs you of breath.

"Daddy! Hh - ah, oh God. You're too b-big."

"Mhm, that's right. Daddy's fat cock is splitting you open. I'll plug you up with it later so none of my cum will leak out."

Every time he pulls back, your pussy clamps down tightly around him, unwilling to be empty even for a second.

Hoseok’s nostrils flare in arousal. He grabs your left tit and squeezes, using it as a hold to better fuck into you. With his body hovering above yours, his hand staking claim of your breast, and his cock drilling into you, you have nowhere to go. Pinned to the bed and unable to do anything but take everything he delivers, you wrap your legs around his waist and moan.

"Daddy's gonna fuck some babies into you,” he rasps, his eyes dark pools of lust. "Gonna breed your sweet pussy over and over. You'll be so full of my cum that you'll be pregnant with my babies for sure."

“Oh fuck. Yes, yes - oh my nhhg.” You sob as Hoseok drives his cock into you with more force. While the piston of his hips isn’t rushed, he pulls out to the tip only to slam back in to the hilt every time. The stretch burns in a good way and the sound of your moans are rivaled only by the wet, obscene sounds from your coupling.

"Fuck. Your cunt just - shit." He cracks down a hand against your ass and you shriek, not expecting it. "You're so tight, holy shit."

"Want it. Want you to fuck me good."

"I will," he says lowly, the promise reverberating deep in his chest. "I'll fuck you until you're begging me to stop. Fill you up so much, you'll be bloated with it."

And it should freak you out, the imagery he paints with his words, but the thought of laying there and him fucking you so well that you won't be able to feel your legs has you gushing out more wetness.

"Mmmh.” Maybe he can feel how soaked you are because he comments, “This is my favorite hole of yours, princess. Always so fuckin' drenched. I bet we’ll have to throw out the sheets again." He chuckles. "You must be hungry for it, right? I made you wait so long. No wonder your pussy is clenching like that. It needs a big, fat cock to milk dry."

“I missed it,” you cry, body skidding a little higher up the duvet each time he fucks into you. Your eyelashes flutter, lids heavy. It’s hard to concentrate, let alone form words, when your brain feels like complete mush. “I - I need your cum. Daddy, please.”

"Don't worry, gorgeous. I've got you. Daddy will feed your cute pussy his cock."

"Th-thank you, Daddy."

"Love you," he murmurs. It’s a quiet confession, lost somewhere in between the mattress creaks, the loud slaps of Hoseok’s hips slamming against yours, and the string of whimpers and groans pulled from your throat. It’s quiet but you hear it.

One of your hands reach up to pull him down by the neck so that your lips meet. He kisses you open-mouthed. It’s a filthy kiss, one that makes you moan into his mouth. You’re certain that if you had been standing your knees would have wobbled.

When you let up for air, Hoseok’s staring you down, his red-bitten lips plump and shiny.

"Love this pussy. So sweet and wet for me. Always for fucking swollen, like it's waiting to get a pounding. Love that. Love how eager you are to be bred by my thick cock."

The impregnation kink is - a bit much. You've never really imagined having kids, at least not anytime soon. You can’t even keep your plants alive for fuck’s sake.

But the way he suggests it is nothing like what you had imagined. His suggestions are - vulgar and primal. Like the urge to fuck you full of his cum is biological and he can’t smother it.

For a moment, you let yourself entertain the thought of being his breeding bitch - of laying on your back and letting him fuck load after load of cum inside you until your pussy physically can't accommodate any more. Of not having any other worries or thoughts but take his cock every moment of the day.

"You just got tighter.” He curses under his breath, voice thick with arousal. "Such a warm little hole. Taking everything I give it. You'd take anything if it meant getting bred by me, right?"

“Yes, yes,” you chant, pleasure coiling inside of you. “Give me more! I need it."

"Shit. You can't handle more, princess," he tries to reason. "Daddy needs to be gentle with you. Your hole is so small, it'll hurt if I go harder."

"Daddy promised to fuck me.” You whine, uncaring if you sound too bratty and demanding. "B- Breed my hole. It's yours. Puh-please use me."

"God." Hoseok groans, his features twisting in what looks to be pain or pleasure. With tremendous effort he pulls himself out of you and your eyes widen in panic.

“What? Daddy why? I thought—”

He shushes you, reaching somewhere overhead to grab a fluffy pillow. "Just wait a sec, okay? There you go.”

The pillow is placed underneath your hips, keeping them elevated. When Hoseok takes his glistening cock in hand and directs it back in, you both moan in unison.

"Oh fuck, I’m gonna, ah,” you gasp as your mind goes blank with pleasure. The new angle is heaven on earth. It’s almost too much, too quick, but Hoseok’s firm grip on your hips prevents you from alleviating the pressure.

"Take it." He grunts, brows knit together. Every powerful snap of his hips makes your breasts bounce, your breath hitch. Without his hands keeping you pinned down, your head would have collided with the headboard by now. "Be a good princess and take your fucking."

He gains momentum, the new angle facilitating the slide of his cock. He drags the flat of his palm down your thigh and takes a hold of your knee before hoisting it up over your shoulder. The stretch burns the back of your calves but you’re so fucked out, you can’t even find the words to complain.

When you glance up, it’s to fall upon the sight of Hoseok brushing his sweaty fringe out of his face. His cheeks are flushed pink, his skin dewy from the film of perspiration wrapped around his body. Beads of sweat trickle down his heaving chest but he chooses to forgo a quick break. On the contrary, he pushes in deeper like he’s determined to carve out a permanent space for his cock.

"Just gonna keep you here,” he huffs, his eyes the shade of cloudless night sky. “Everyday I'll fuck my cum back inside of you so that you'll always stay full. Want to fuck you forever. Don't want this to end."

"Want it too," you sob, orgasm hovering just on the periphery. "Want you to keep me full forever. Ugh - oh fuck! Hoseok- I'm—"

"You gonna cum around my cock, princess?" He angles his hips downwards, relishing in the wanton cry it elicits. "Gonna give me everything?"

"I'm yours," you profess, jaw slack with pleasure.

It doesn’t take much more for the orgasm to crash over you, Hoseok fucks you through it, groaning as your inner walls spasm around him. He breathes out curses, lip drawn tight between his lips, and doesn’t wait for the last waves of your orgasm to abate to chase after his own end.

In the throes of your pleasure, it doesn’t register then that Hoseok has been holding back all this time. If you thought he had been fucking you hard before, it’s nothing compared to now. He growls and bends forward, forcing your leg to stretch even more, and pushes in and out of you at a pace that makes you scream.

You don’t even have time to come down from your first high that you’re already thrown towards your second. Hoseok plugs your mouth up using two digits, his fingers a firm pressure against your tongue. Your eyes roll back, too overwhelmed from the feeling of being stuffed on both ends.

“God, I could fuck your holes all fucking day.” His rhythm begins to falter as the pressure inside of him grows, his movements frantic and less controlled than they’ve ever been. “How about that? I’ll fuck my princess’ mouth properly next time, stretch it out nicely. Then you’ll let me have your ass, hm?”

Shit, shit, you whimper around his fingers, spit bubbling down the sides on your mouth. It’s scary knowing you have no way to stop the oncoming destruction.

“Yeah, I can tell you love that. You’re gonna cream my dick again, aren’t you?” You can’t tell if the sound he makes is a laugh or a grunt. All you know is that you feel like you’re about to burst. “C’mon, be a good girl and milk my cum out. You better get every last drop.”

There’s an underlying threat in his command. You do your best to obey his words, not wanting to disappoint.

Hoseok pushes his cock in as deep as it can go and grinds his hips into yours. His cock reaches so deep that you swear he might hit your cervix. And considering the nature of the scene you’re portraying, maybe that’s what he intends.

He swipes his fingers through the mess of your cunt, zeroing in on your sensitive clit. He swirls some of your fluids over it before giving it a sharp pinch that makes you cry out. Your hips fly off the pillow but Hoseok is quick to pin you back down. The never-ending drag of his cock along your walls paired with the rough ministrations to your clit is all you need for the pressure inside you to snap.

Above you, Hoseok moans, low and throaty, as he finally dumps rope after rope of warm cum inside of you. He throws his head back, exposing the collar of purplish bruises you sucked onto his skin earlier. Something about the view satisfies you immensely - not that you’d dare voice these thoughts out loud.

Hoseok’s strength gives out and he sags onto your body, his breath warm against your skin. He feels hot, like a furnace, but strangely it’s not uncomfortable. It’s almost like having a personal heating pad; the soreness of your muscles melts away with each passing moment.

Much to your displeasure, your post-coital bliss doesn’t last forever. He's given the signal to pull out and obeys, careful to keep your hips propped up so that his load of cum won’t slosh out. He’s still got a role to play, after all, and the end goal is to get you pregnant.

A cameraman walks forward to zoom in on your swollen and used pussy - physical proof of your exploits. The haze lifts. You become more aware of the people standing on the outskirts of your vision, lighting or sound equipment in hand.

“And that’s a wrap!” Director Ryu calls, his cheeks stretched to accommodate the width of his grin. “Good job everybody!”

You breathe out a sigh, glad your day is finally over. Seokjin walks up to you with a robe for you to throw on and you nod in thanks, slipping the satin gown over your sweaty body.

Around you, the staff start milling about, putting the equipment away and gathering their belongings. You pay them no heed, your attention focused on getting changing into showering and changing into comfortable clothes. You’re in the middle of taming your messy hair when your stomach erupts into growls, reminding you of your hungry state. What you’d do for a big slice of piz—

You remember your date with Jimin and speed up, not wanting to make him wait around for you any longer. It’s not hard to spot him - he’s waiting outside of your dressing room, can of coke in hand.

Something about his smile feels off.

Maybe it’s the way his eye corners don’t crease or the slight strain the curve of his mouth that betray him.

Your expression falls. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing - it’s nothing, don’t worry,” he says after a short, tense moment of silence. The look on your face must have reflected your feelings of doubt because he proceeds by reaching out and pulling you tight against him. Pressed up against his shirt, you can smell the faintest trace of the fabric softener he uses and its scent, familiar and sweet, mollifies you somewhat. “You did amazing today, baby. As usual.”

The compliment you’ve been waiting for makes the sides of your lips rise automatically. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Almost too well.” He hums, one of his hands stroking the back of your head.

“Well, I can’t take all the credit, “ you admit. “The results wouldn’t have been half as good if Hoseok hadn’t been my partner. He’s new in the game but he doesn’t act like it, does he?”

“He doesn’t, no.” Jimin agrees. “He’s... he’s something, alright.”

Your grin widens. All your worrying had been for nothing, in the end. The shoot had gone without a hitch, all of the set members coming up to you with praises of a job well done. You can’t recall the last time any of your performances had elicited such a response post-filming. Even Director Ryu looks particularly pleased, a permanent grin etched onto his features as he reviews the tapes. The knowledge that you’ve done well fills you with a pleasant giddiness that warms your insides and makes your cheeks hurt from how wide your smile stretches.

“Oh good, you’re still here.” Hoseok beams. A damp towel hangs around his neck and the ends of his hair are wet like he’s just gone and doused his head under the bathroom faucet. “I was worried you had left. I just - thanks for earlier. I had a lot of fun! If the chance presents itself, I hope we can work together again.”

“Thank you.” You want to praise him too, know that his performance deserves it, but your next words are cut off before they have the chance to form. Jimin steps closer to you, his grip on your hip tightening suddenly.

When you glance up to check on your boyfriend, he’s sporting a serious expression that you’ve rarely seen before. He doesn’t look angry, but it’s clear as day that he isn’t too pleased with the present situation. His face is closed off, cold, unwelcoming - so drastically different from the usual cherubic sweetness you’re accustomed to seeing.

You’re at a loss for words, unsure of who to address first. What’s going on?

Hoseok senses the sudden change in atmosphere and chooses to tactfully retreat.

“Good work, man.” He nods at Jimin and then shoots you a wave. “See you around sometime, ______ !”

Your eyes follow his exit before you turn to face Jimin again, hoping the smile on your face masks the worry you feel bubbling on the inside.

“Jimin what - I mean, are you sure you're okay?”

Jimin returns a strained smile of his own. “I’m fine.”

Your gaze lands on his right hand that’s still squeezing your waist. It borders on uncomfortable but you try not to let it show. You must not do a very good job at schooling your features because Jimin quickly apologizes for his behavior.

“Sorry.” Jimin lets you go once he notices your discomfort. “I just - I don’t know. You’re right, I’m not acting like myself. I think...seeing you say that stuff and act that way just - I’m not sure why, I guess - Since usually the sex isn’t like that, it caught me off guard.”

“You didn’t like that I acted like I was in love with him.”

“Would anyone?” he shoots back, smile sardonic. “It just looked so convincing in the moment. I guess it got me worked up.”

Sure, Hoseok is hot. If you had to work with him again, you would in a heartbeat. It’s not often you land a colleague you’re so sexually compatible with, who also happens to be so well-mannered and good-looking. It’s like hitting the jackpot, really.

But - just because you’d fuck him again for professional reasons, doesn’t mean that you’re interested in him beyond that.

“Jimin. I don’t want to be with anybody else but you.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” The muscles in his face relax. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

It’s not until later, as he fucks you uncharacteristically hard in the backseat of his car parked in the back lot of the film studio, that you begin to wonder if things really are as idyllic as you believe them to be.

#wow so this took a decade and a half to finish but it's finally here !#final part should be up by the end of the month : )#bts smut #hoseok smut #hoseok #also warning i didn't proofread the smut scene yet so rip if there are any mistakes

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sillyrabbit81 · 4 years

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Her Heavy Cross

Summary: Three years after tragedy hits, Lana she decides to start dating again. She meets Will through a dating app and they begin an online romance. After months of constant requests, Lana relents and agrees to meet and go on an irl date with Will. But is Will who he says he is? Lana is quickly pulled into an intense relationship forcing her to confront her tragic past. Will Lana face it or will she close her heart forever?

Pairing: OMC x OFC

Word Count: approx 3.2k

Warnings: smut, swearing,

Authors Note: The story started as a Henry Cavill fanfiction but I changed it to be an original character, but shades of Henry are still there. Hope you enjoy the story and thanks for reading.

Part 5 Part 7

Part 6

"Tell me something I don't know," I joked. I felt my confidence returning, and it felt good.

"Hmm, what about how I want to bury my head between your very shapely thighs and not leave until you scream my name?" Liam opened his eyes. Oh fuck, he meant it. My short-lived confidence had left me.

He sat up and continued, "or how I want to pin your hands above your head, throw your legs over my shoulder and fuck you until you can't walk." I moved away a bit. The intensity in his eyes made me afraid. "Or how I want to watch you ride my cock while I smack that generous bottom of yours.".

I started to get off the bed. "Yeah, I knew all that too." My bravado was transparent because my voice came out almost like a squeak.

He grabbed me and pinned me beneath his body. He moved faster than any one of his size had the right to. His eyes raked over my body while he forced my legs apart and pushed his still hard erection against me. I swear I could feel it's warmth through the fabric of my clothes.

"Well then, how about the fact I thought about all of those things while I showered this morning." My eyes went wide. He didn't mean he... Did he? "I'm glad I did, or I would have made a mess five minutes ago." He did! He didn't seem embarrassed at all about his admission.

I had no words for that. But I had thoughts, a lot of them. I wondered what he looked like when he touched himself. I imagined him standing in the shower, slightly hunched, hot water streaming down his naked body, one arm out straight against the wall, the other gripping his sex, short quick movements making his arm muscles contract.

I imagined the way his body would tighten as his release neared, the growl that would escape his lips. Then, because I couldn't stop the thought, I imagined being on my knees in front of him, his hand in my hair and, as his orgasm came, watching as it streaked all over my open mouth.

I couldn't help but squirm against him. I felt the pressure rising in me. I needed a release as well.

As if he sensed my need, Liam got off me and laid next to me. He cupped me in his hand, his palm pressing against my most sensitive spot. "I want to take these off." He indicated my leggings.

I hesitated a moment before nodding slowly. Liam leaned down and kissed me, still holding me. I pressed against his palm, feeling the friction build the pressure. Liam kissed my neck and my breasts and my tummy, his hand holding me as I started to grind against it. But he didn't take off my pants.

Eventually, I stopped and said, "I thought you were going to take my leggings off."

"You hesitated. I want you to be sure."

"I wouldn't have agreed if I wasn't sure."

"I didn't want you to feel pressured. It's only enjoyable if I know you want it."

I pushed him off me, frustration pouring out. "You fucking idiot. Do I need to beg?" I sat up, turned to face him, reached behind my back and undid my bra and threw it away.

Liam's mouth fell open, and he made a move to grab me, but for once, I was quicker. I laid back and put a foot to his chest, and used all my strength to hold him back. "Is this clear enough for you?" I ask as I hooked my thumbs in my pants and pulled off both my leggings and underwear. He grabbed the pants at my knees and helped me pull them off the rest of the way.

Then he just sat there staring. I waited. I felt stupid and moved my arms to cover myself.

"Don't you fucking dare." Liam finally spoke, and I felt a twinge between my legs. "I want to look at you. You're so beautiful." Well, ok, then.

Liam tentatively reached out and caressed the curve of one of my breasts. I felt goosebumps rise on my skin as he did, and my nipples hardened. Liam chuckled, seemingly pleased that his touch made me respond like that. He placed his whole hand on my breast cupping it and feeling it's weight. His thumb ran over my nipple, and I clamped my legs shut, trying to ease the pressure. I moaned as he leaned down and took my nipple in his mouth. He sucked on it then gently took me between his teeth while his tongue danced.

"Oh fuck," I moaned, and I plunged my fingers into his hair, making little fists. It felt so fucking good, but I needed more.

Liam sat up and put a knee between mine. "Open your legs for me," he said. I flushed, feeling sheepish. I had thrown myself at him, practically begged him to do this, and now I'm too shy. "You're very pretty when you blush. Now, open your legs for me."

Slowly I bent my knees and opened for him. I looked away, worried about what he would think.

"Lana, Sweetheart, look at me." I took a moment and slowly looked at him. "You look fucking spectacular." He looked me in the eyes as he got down low. "You're so fucking wet for me." I watched wide-eyed as his tongue parted my folds, and he licked me, his tongue gently flicking my clit as he did. He closed his eyes. "You taste fucking spectacular," he said. He put his head down and took me into his mouth, and sucked gently.

"Oh, bloody hell!" I yelled and threw my head back on the bed. Liam seemed to hum against me. I tried to wriggle away, the feeling too intense. "Come back here," Liam growled, and he snaked his arms around my thighs, trapping me as he continued to lick and suck at me.

I punched at the bed, my hips moving up and down. Liam stayed latched onto me, not stopping or missing a beat. I'm sure I said every swear word in the English language as my release came closer. Soon the pressure was too much, and I was reduced to begging.

"Please," I said over and over. I felt one of Liam's fingers inside me, followed quickly by another, and I felt them press against the spot behind where his mouth was. I felt myself go over the edge, and I shouted wordlessly as I exploded against Liam's mouth. Waves of ecstasy rolled over me before subsiding, leaving me a shattered mess. I laid there panting, catching my breath as little aftershocks ran through my body until I shuddered as I felt my orgasm finish.

I felt Liam's hands run up my hips and over my waist. I shivered and giggled, my body still too sensitive. I felt Liam's weight on my body, and I pulled him into an embrace. He kissed me, and I could taste myself on his lips. Despite having one of the best orgasms of my life and my first with a partner in three years, I wanted more. I wanted to feel him inside me. I think I'm greedy.

Liam had a huge grin on his face. I felt embarrassed again and looked away.

"Don't be shy. That was fucking amazing." Liam kissed me again. "Watching you is so hot." He paused and said, teasingly, "even better than I had imagined." He leaned in and kissed my neck. He took my earlobe in his mouth, teeth grazing it lightly.

Liam pulled away then as if bitten by a snake. He threw some pillows together and laid down on his back. He put his arm around me. I laid my head on his chest before putting my leg over his, and I snuggled into him.

"I think I'd be happy to stay this way all day. Your tits feel lovely." Liam was stroking the curve of one of my breasts.

I gave him a light slap on the chest. "Oh, come off it." I laughed.

"No, I'm serious. I want to stay here and watch a movie."

"The remotes are just over there." I pointed to the bedside table. They were next to the Ben and Jerry's tub. He pointed at it and raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't expecting company," I said in my defence.

He turned on the tv, and it went to the PlayStation menu. "Hmm, let's see what disc you have in here." He scrolled over.

"We could find something on Netflix," I suggested, cringing inside at what movie was in there.

"The Princess Bride?" His bloody lip twitched. "I thought you didn't like romance."

"It's not just a romance." I said and then quoted, "Are you kidding? Fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, true love, miracles..."

In a move that astounded me, he kept the scene going. "Doesn't sound too bad. I'll try and stay awake."

I kissed him and snuggled into him as the movie started.

We spent the rest of the morning in bed. It was nice. Liam would stroke my hair or back while we watched The Princess Bride and then Superbad. Sometimes I would have my head cradled in his arm, and I played with his chest hair. Other times I put my head to his chest and listened to his heartbeat or relaxed as he breathed. The gentle rocking of his breathing almost put me to sleep a couple of times, but I'd wake up as a chuckle vibrated through his chest, interrupting the rhythm.

My tummy started to rumble, and I suggested we had better get some lunch. I pulled a robe on, but Liam made no move to get clothes on. He still only had his undies on. His confidence in his body continued to surprise me.

I asked Liam what he'd like for lunch.

"I brought my food with me." Liam said, "with filming starting soon, I've got to be strict."

"What about last night?"

"We won't talk about that." He winked conspiratorially.

I smiled, "fair enough."

Liam got his pre-prepared lunch, and I made a Vegemite sandwich. We sat at my kitchen bench and ate.

"So did you bring food for tea too?"

"No. I usually have a steak or chicken with salad or veg for dinner. I like a warm meal for dinner."

I thought about what food I had. Not much, I'd probably have to go to the shop.

"What about a roast? I could cook a beef roast and some veggies? Obviously no potatoes or anything but some beans, broccoli, carrot maybe?"

Liam looked surprised, "you'll cook for me?"

"Yeah," I blushed. "I mean, I'm not the best cook." I shrugged. "I don't have to. We can go out if you want."

"No, I'd love for you to cook for me."

I smiled, "great, come to the shop with me? We've got to go soon. My local butcher still only opens half days on Saturdays."

"Will you have to get dressed?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "You can undress me when we get back home if you like," I said in my cheesiest seductive voice.

"I like. Come here," Liam said. I ran. He caught me and ticked me while giving me some sloppy kisses. I giggled and pretended to fight him off. He eventually let me go, and we got dressed.

We went to the garage to get in my car, but before I opened the door, I decided against it. "Want to walk instead? It's only about 15 minutes away, and we could take Perrin with us."

"Yeah, absolutely."

"Wait here, and I'll grab a hat. Do you want one?" Liam nodded, and I came back with two baseball caps, Perrin on a leash and a couple of reusable bags. We headed off.

Liam looked at his cap before putting it on. "Valentino Rossi?"

"Well, you're not having my Jack Miller hat."

"You like Motogp?"

"Yeah."

"Do you ride?"

"I do. Not a sports bike, though. I have a Dyna Wide Glide."

"You ride a Harley? Holy shit." A look of genuine surprise was on his face.

"Well, it's Andy's," I explained. "I didn't want to sell it when he died. He loved it and rode every day." I looked at Liam. His expression was unreadable. "Sorry, I suppose you don't want to hear about this."

Liam took my hand. "No, it's ok. We all have a past. Yours is a little... different." He sighed, "it's a bit strange because you didn't break up. You loved him. It's a bit hard for me to process. If a girl I were dating talked about an ex the way you talk about your husband, I'd think she wasn't over him."

I didn't say anything to this. We continued walking.

Eventually, Liam continued, "I understand it's not the same as an ex. I believe you when you say you're ready to move on. He seems to be still so much in your life. I'm not used to the dynamic."

"He kinda is still in my life and will always be," I said. I knew I probably shouldn't have been so blunt, but I owed it to him, to be honest. "It's because I want to honour his memory, not because I haven't grieved or haven't accepted it." I stopped and got Liam to look at me. His lips were in a hard line, and his brow was creased. "I've thought about it for a long time, and it took me two years to date again. Three years before I brought a man to my bed." His eyebrows shot up. "That's you, by the way." He grinned at that. "Yes, well, you're very handsome. I couldn't resist." I said dramatically.

"And charming, don't forget that." I elbowed him in the ribs and smiled. He pulled me into a hug. I gave him a big squeeze. I breathed in deeply, enjoying his scent, more potent today than yesterday without his cologne. I already felt like I'll miss his smell when he is gone.

I felt Perrin pulling on the leash, impatient with the delay. "C'mon. Somebody says we need to get going."

When we got to the shops, we stopped at the butcher first and got a rib eye roast. Then we went to the small local supermarket to get veggies.

I tied Perrin up outside, near the water bowl the shop leaves for dogs, and he lapped at it. We went inside and looked around the produce.

After a while, I noticed people kept looking at me. I touched my face trying to see if I had food on it, and checked my fly. I was getting freaked out big time. I saw one of the employees pointing her phone at us.

"Liam, do I have something on my face or something?" I sounded as panicked as I felt.

"No, Sweetheart, you look lovely." He smiled at me and ran his finger down my cheek.

"I just feel like people are looking at me."

Liam looked around. "I don't notice it anymore. You get used to it." My jaw dropped. I'd forgotten about being seen in public with Liam. He must have seen the horror on my face because he said, "I'll wait with Perrin if you like." Liam gave me a quick smile which I supposed he meant to be reassuring, and left.

I pulled my cap down further and hurried to finish my shopping. I avoided the employee with the phone and paid at the other open register. I was so flustered I asked for ciggies. By the time I remembered I didn't smoke anymore, I was too worked up to ask the lady to put them back. I left as quickly as I could.

Liam was squatting down next to Perrin, giving him pats. "You alright?" He asked.

"I guess so. Let's go."

"I'll carry those." Liam took my shopping and the meat and handed me Perrin's leash.

We walked in silence for a while. I was still a bit shaken.

"Does that happen all the time?" I asked after a while.

Liam shrugged. "Sometimes."

"Like it's not just paparazzi that take photos of you without you knowing?"

"Yeah. I tried to tell you."

"I had forgotten you were famous." He raised an eyebrow at me. "I knew you as Will before I knew you as Liam. I got to know you as just a regular guy."

"I know. That's what I wanted."

"Yeah, I get that." I chewed my lip. "I don't know if I would have gone on a date with you if I had known." I swear Miley Cyrus was thinking of me when she wrote the line 'Can't bite the devil on my tongue.'

"I'm sorry," Liam said. He sounded sorry. I didn't want to be mad at him, but I couldn't help it. It tore me up because I understood why he did it. But it didn't make it any easier on me.

"I'm sorry too," I said. I was thinking about the way people were looking at us. I didn't know how he could stand it. I felt stupid thinking he could just walk to my local shops and not stick out like a shag on a rock.

"Why are you sorry?"

"I put you in a position where somebody could take photos of you."

"Hang on. You're worried about photos of me?" I nodded. "I thought you were worried about the photos they took of you."

I felt the blood leave my face. I stopped walking. "They took photos of me? I thought it would be just you."

"Sweetheart, I don't know. Probably." He sounded angry. "I shouldn't have come with you. I should have thought it through. I knew..." He put his arm around me and lifted my chin so I would look at him. "I told you last night; I'm not worried about being seen with you. It's you I worry about."

"Your life isn't normal," I said petulantly. "It's weird and kinda strange." I removed his arm and started walking again. We were reaching my house now. We went around the back, and I let Perrin off the lead and went inside into the kitchen.

"Hey. You know what else is strange?" Liam put the shopping on the bench. His brows were drawn together.

"What?"

"It's been an hour since I've kissed you." He put his arms around my waist, and I put my arms around his shoulders. He bent his head, and I kissed him.

"More." He demanded, smiling. I couldn't say no. I kissed him again, parting my mouth and softly sucked his bottom lip. He groaned, and I smiled.

"I better put the food in the fridge." I tried to detangle myself from Liam, but he wouldn't let me.

"It can wait. I can't." He lifted me onto my kitchen bench. I wrapped my legs around him and kept kissing him.

For a while, we stayed like that, just kissing and touching. These kisses felt different, like Liam was content just to kiss me for a while. There was no demand for more. He did keep his hips away from me.

When we slowed, Liam put his head against my chest, and I held him close to me, playing with his curls.

Part 7

#original character #original fanfiction #romantic story

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

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Always Here

Connor Walsh & Michaela Pratt (How To Get Away With Murder)

Warnings: MAJOR TW: Rape, Trauma, PTSD, Swearing

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Relationship

Summary: Following the less than poor advice of her ‘friends’ Michela finds herself at the apartment and in the hands of a piece of scum eager to take advantage of her. Connor is not having any of it, rushing to her rescue and impatient to teach the bastard a lesson, punish him for the horrible, disgusting thing he did to his friend.

Requested by Anon as a birthday fic. Hello dear, happy birthday! Hope you have the best one yet! Sorry for the downer of a fic for such a happy day in your life (I was genuinely surprised when you requested such an angsty fic but I’m not complaining) hope you enjoy the read nonetheless. Enjoy your special day, hope you have a ton of fun and make great memories! Lots of love, Vy ❤

“Nah, I think you’re judging him too heavily.“ Laurel comments, taking a sip from the coffee cup on her desk, “He seemed rather nice when I got to talk to him last week. He seems to be really into you too.“

“Well, just because he’s into me doesn’t mean I’m into him.“ Michaela points out, irritation in her voice and a shudder running down her spine at the memory of the creep Laurel talked her into meeting a week ago - Charles Mahoney. Michaela immediately felt the oddest and creepiest vibes coming off the guy, but Laurel was persistent and Michaela tried to talk herself into trusting her friend’s judgement, despite her gut screaming at her to get out of the situation, accompanied by the alarm going off wildly in her head. The guy didn’t do anything to set off those alarms and he wasn’t acting like a creep per se but as Michaela put it when complaining to Connor later that same day: He seemed like a creep trying to act and behave like a normal person would. Connor noted the odd feeling he had in regards of that guy.

It was something about his demeanor, but not something she could pin-point to Laurel and use as concrete evidence that her gut was right. And, as a lawyer, she knew that without concrete evidence she wouldn’t get anywhere with that argument.

“Or it just means you’re too picky.“ Laurel swoops the file out of Michaela’s hands, earning herself a death glare from her friend, “Who says you have to date the guy? Just have some fun, a couple of drinks. Maybe a hook-up if you’re feeling it. Who knows where that might lead?“ She sits back down and flips open the file, eyes skimming over the text as if the discussion is over on her part.

Michaela’s about to complain when Asher decides to share his two cents on the subject, “Right! I agree with Laurel, he seemed like a nice guy. To be fair, we didn’t get to talk much, but he seems like a cool dude. Easy on the eyes too, not gonna lie.“

Michaela rolls her eyes, having heard enough about this Mahoney guy from these two. In fact, they’ve been playing this game of persuasion for two days now, neither of them giving a concrete reason on why they were doing it. Although, she might have a guess on their intentions: a few too many drinks one night and she ended up spilling her guts on how lonely she feels sometimes. She did her best in that drunken state to pack the emphasis on ‘sometimes’ but Asher and Laurel seem to have brushed past that bit, seeing as how they’ve made it their personal duty to play matchmakers. If only their choice of guys to pair her with wasn’t so crappy, they may have come in handy to fill the nights she didn’t have any work to do and really felt the lack of company setting in.

Seeing no other way to get the two off her back for good other than feed into their attempts and humor their ideas, Michaela sighs exasperatedly, resting her forehead in the palm of her hand as she speaks, “Will you get off my case if I give him a call and go out with him tonight?”

Asher opens his mouth but Laurel cuts him off before he can throw their chances of succeeding with this in the water, “Permanently. A lawyer’s word.” She nods, giving Michaela a tight-lipped smile that’s supposed to represent faux innocence which instead hides her fondness of her success at last.

“A lawyer’s word doesn’t mean much.“ Michaela mutters under her breath but pulls out her phone nonetheless, standing up to exit into the hallway to make the phone call to Charles Mahoney. She stops in her tracks, turning on her heel to face Laurel once more before exiting the room, “We need a safe-word, just in case.“ She snaps her fingers, trying to get a simple word to come to mind for the purpose of a GTFO signal.

Laurel suddenly gets an idea, “How does ‘trophy’ sound to you?”

Michaela can’t help the shiver that runs down her spine, “Like a nightmare and a ton of bad memories.” She replies bitterly, knitting her brows together in a displeased frown.

Her friend tilts her head to the side, “Then it’s perfect.”

She contemplates Laurel’s reply for a second. Well, contemplates the whole situation and the decision she’s about to make. Sure, it might not be final and she could still cancel if she changes her mind later on, but it’s still a borderline ridiculous move to make. But, when compared to finally being given some peace from the pesky Asher and Laurel, she finds spending a few hours with Mahoney to be worth it.

So, with that, Michaela turns back around, heading out in the hallway to make the phone call she has no idea will lead to the worst moments of her life.

* * *

“Oh shit!“ Laurel curses, quickly disconnecting her phone from the charger where she had left it while her and Asher went to buy some dinner for the rest of the team to enjoy back at the office after Annalise had called in they were on their way and they had some important news to share with them. Some concerning news, if her voice was anything to go by.

“What’s up?“ Asher asks, setting the plastic bags he’s been carrying on his desk.

“Missed calls and texts from Michaela. Twenty seven of them, almost all saying ‘Trophy’.“ Laurel replies with a sigh that’s a mix of frustration and concern. The call goes to voicemail almost right away which only fuels the concern as she taps the button to call again. “Shit, she’s not answering.“

“She’s texted and called me too.“ Asher says, taking a look at his phone, “She could be in danger.“

“I know, Asher! I know she could be in danger!“ Laurel snaps, squeezing the phone tightly, pressing it against her ear, swearing and fighting the urge to slam it on the floor when the second call also goes to voicemail, “Damn it!“

Just then, the door to the office opens and in walks Connor, closely followed by Annalise and Frank who he ran into on his way in. The mention of a ‘she’ that could be in danger immediately puts him on edge as his eyes skim over the room, looking for his frenemy - Michaela Pratt. ‘On-edge’ is replaced by an early onset of panic when he takes in her absence, connecting the dots that the ‘she’ Laurel was referring to is indeed her. But, just to be safe and avoid a false alarm, he decides to fake nonchalance and ask: “Danger? What’s going on here?“ He tilts his head, his gaze switching from Laurel who’s still trying to reach Michaela to Asher who is doing his best to avoid eye-contact with anyone in the room.

Annalise cuts the crap, way less nonchalant than him, “Where’s Miss Pratt? Didn’t I tell you all to stay in one spot?“

Laurel looks to Asher for backup, but when she realizes she’s clearly not gonna get any, she turns back to look at Annalise, feeling as though she’s shrinking under the woman’s intense and powerful gaze. “I-it’s my fault. Michaela left before you called and...”

“And she’s now gonna come back! Call her and tell her to return her ass here as soon as possible!“ Annalise cuts her off, her eyes glinting with anger the Keating 5 were so used to seeing yet were terrified of just the same no matter how many times they saw it.

“Well, that’s the thing. She left two hours ago to meet with Mahoney and she isn’t picking up her phone and...“ Laurel trails off, the words dying down in her throat, failing to reach or leave her mouth.

“And we think she could be in danger.“ Asher whispers, finally finding it in himself to speak up despite feeling guilty as all hell.

Annalise’s eyes widen as her heart drops, a sickening feeling overcoming her in the form of cold sweat covering her whole body at once, “YOU THINK?!” She snaps, eyes briefly blurred by tears. “You think she could be in danger when she’s in the hands of a fucking rapist?!”

The phone slips from Laurel’s hand, falling to the floor with a crash at the sound of that word. Asher’s reaction is not different by much - he becomes but a frozen statue in his spot, both him and Laurel looking at Annalise with deer-caught-in-headlights looks and pale faces that suggest Annalise’s heart isn’t the only one that’s dropped. Fear, guilt and despair has paralyzed the two in their spot, unable to think of something to do. Unable to find it in themselves to move.

One person, however, doesn’t remain paralyzed. He takes action, driven by his protective instinct that has set off all the alarms in his head and has sent shots of adrenaline pumping through his veins at a rapid pace. With trembling hands, Connor pulls out his phone, the one calm part of his brain reminding him of his pact with Michaela to always share their location with each other. Opening the app, he reads the address out loud. “Where is that place?!” He snaps, unable to contain his anger that’s blended in with the dreadful sense of fear for his friend’s safety and well-being which are most definitely at a huge risk at this very moment.

“The fucker’s apartment.“ Frank replies, looking up from his own phone where he had looked up the address Connor read out.

Without a second to spare, ignoring the fact his blood’s run cold and the numbness in his face and limbs, Connor takes off, running out of the office and straight to his car, closely followed by the rest of them.

“Connor, wait!“ Annalise attempts to stop him, but you cannot stop a hurricane with your bare hands. And this hurricane is a raging beast with a mission to save his friend and teach the fucker who’d dare touch her or harm her a lesson in the form of beating him bloody.

‘God, please tell me I’m not too late‘, he chants to himself silently, praying for the first time in a long while. ‘Please, keep her safe just a little longer, then I’ll take over.’

Little does he know, the worst has already happened.

* * *

Michaela feels herself coming back to her senses. She doesn’t want to wake up though. She wants for her eyes to remain closed and for her to perish, never again to be seen by the world outside of this apartment that to her now represents hell on Earth. Her survival instincts are kicking in but rather lowly and slowly, almost as if they’re afraid of scaring her or making her snap. So, instead of making an effort to move, she stays completely still and listens, takes in her surroundings. She can’t see much without turning her head which is facing the ceiling, but she’s too afraid to do so. As if her body has been rigged with explosives and the tiniest movement could set them off.

The first thing she hears is the sound of a shower running not too far away. The sound is faint but not faint enough, and neither is the humming that’s accompanying it. She recognizes the tune, she’s recently heard it. With a slight tilt of her head she catches a glimpse of a coffee table which has red wine spilled on it, one wineglass has fallen over and is still dripping tiny red drops alike blood on the carpeted floor. She vaguely recognizes the setting and she feels sickened looking at it, but it takes her a moment or two to place exactly why she feels that way.

And then it hits her.

The tune the voice is humming, she heard it in a bar earlier. The bar she went out to have drinks at. With Charles Mahoney. The Charles Mahoney who then persuaded her into going back to his apartment for a continuation of their drinking session. She remembers the repulsion she felt at the thought of going, but she wasn’t receiving any help from neither Laurel nor Asher whom she has texted and called countless times. So, she succumbed, regretting every step she took that led her closer to his apartment. Her gut was screaming at her the whole time, repeating over and over how bad of an idea that was and how she should make up some bullshit excuse and ditch the situation.

But she didn’t.

And he took advantage of it. Of her body, her tipsy vulnerability. Of her.

It was my fault

With that horribly wrong thought in mind, tears rush to Michaela’s eyes prickling them, begging to escape and relieve the tiniest portion of her pain. She allows them to, the silent tears slowly turning into suppressed sobs that escape her aching chest as she continues lying on that couch, helpless and in pain that cannot be healed or seen.

Her sobs come to an abrupt halt when a round of aggressive and loud knocks, or rather bangs are delivered to the front door that right beside the living room. She only then becomes aware of the subsiding of the running water in the shower. She renders herself silent, faking unconsciousness when she hears the bathroom door open, followed by hurried footsteps coming down the hall, passing the living room and stopping at the front door.

Charles had expected many things, but what he didn’t see coming was the punch that sent him falling to the floor with a broken nose as soon as he opened the door. He didn’t even get a good view of the person but he recognized the voice that called out to the girl he had raped barely an hour prior.

“Michaela!“ Connor shouted, his chest aching, heart racing so loud he could hear it in his ears. He rushed down the hall but stopped in his tracks when he caught sight of the living room where he found who he was looking for. And he found her in a state that broke his heart, “Michaela! Oh God, I’m too late! Fuck!“

Hearing the familiar voice of her friend, Michaela’s eyes snap open, catching sight of Connor’s concerned face hovering over hers. “Connor.” Her coarse voice barely makes it out of her throat in the form of a choked up sob.

Grabbing a blanket from the nearby armchair, Connor wraps it around Michaela covering her almost completely naked her body. Securing the blanket in place, he takes her face in his hands, directing her gaze to his eyes to prevent her from looking anywhere else, prevent her from seeing anything that will further confirm what has happened to her. “It’s ok, you’re ok now. I’m here. I’m here, Michaela and I will never leave you again, ok? You hear me? Focus on my voice, ok? It’s over, he can’t hurt you ever again. The cops are on their way...”

“Hands in the air! Get up! Search the apartment!“ Just as Connor says that, the urgent shouts of cops come from the hall, startling Michaela while also giving her the smallest spec of relief as she once again breaks out in a fit of uncontrollable sobs that are the result of that mix of trauma, emptiness, relief and disgust.

Connor wraps his arms around her pulling her close and resting her head on his chest, not making any attempts at subduing her cries, aware that she needs to get it out of her system before having to face and deal with anything else.

“Michaela?!“ The shout of her own name doesn’t get registered by her, but Connor hears it and feels rage building inside of him when he sees Laurel, Asher, Annalise and Frank enter the living room, “Oh God, Michaela, I’m so sor-“

“You’ve done enough damage!“ He snaps at her, the message meant for Asher as well, “Leave her alone, she’s had it with you and you bright ideas!“

Just then, a cop approaches him and Michaela. He’s not spared Connor’s death glare either, but he doesn’t allow himself to be too intimidated by it, “Sir, we’ll need to take Miss Pratt to a hospital and then to the station to give a statement.“

The rage continues bubbling up inside of him but forces himself to stay calm, seeing as how he’s talking to an officer, “You really think she’s fit for an examination and questioning right now? Can’t you see how traumatized she is?”

“It’s procedure, sir. We must follow a very strict protocol in these situations. Miss Pratt needs a proper examination and all harm done to her needs to be aided and handled properly.“ The officer makes another attempt at persuading the distressed Connor whose arms are still wrapped around the trembling Michaela who suddenly raises her head off his chest, placing her hand there instead.

“It’s ok, Connor. I-I can handle it. But...“ she trails off, a stray tear escaping her eye again.

“But what? Tell me, what do you need?“ he takes her hands in his, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

She inhales shakily before replying, “Could you stay with me? I mean, could you come with me for...well, for it all. I don’t wanna go through it alone.” She bites her lips, still looking down where their hands are connected, unable to look him in the eyes because of how weak and pathetic she feels that request was.

“Of course, Michaela. I wasn’t planning on leaving even if you tried chasing me away.“ He gives her hands a reassuringly, “I’m always gonna be here for you, ok? Never forget that.“

That finally gets Michaela to look up and allow her eyes to meet his. Fresh tears have welled up in her eyes, having grown emotional because of Connor’s words as she whispers a barely-audible, ‘Thank you.’ which says a lot more than just her gratitude for him accepting her request.

It shows how grateful she is to have a friend like him, to have him as a friend. How thankful she is he found her and is willing to stay with her through the nauseating experience she’s about to endure. How happy she is to have found a safe haven in his embrace - his arms serving as a barrier, keeping her safe and shielded from the world that has harmed her so many times and will continue doing so. She’s just glad she won’t have to heal her wounds on her own, all alone. She’ll never have to deal with anything by herself, cause she has him - someone she trusts. Those people have been rare in her life - the trustworthy ones - Connor has the privilege to be one of them. One day, he might even hear her say it, not that he needs to hear it to know though.

That’s what their friendship is - a connection that doesn’t require verbal communication in order to reach an understanding. Even if that understanding has more often than not been ‘agree to disagree’. Still, a friendship as strong as a fortress nonetheless.

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #349

��we’ll meet again, when both our cars collide”

When was the last time you had a PopTart? It's been many, many months. Do you like hot chocolate? Well duh. Who made you laugh the hardest today? I haven't really laughed today. Who was the last person to promise you something, and what was it? Hmph. Would you ever jump into a fire to save your bestfriend? I know I would. Do you have a callus from writing too much? No, I only have calluses on my feet from when I used to walk for hours on end. They just never permanently went away, even with grooming. Who is someone you’ve made a bad first impression on? I dread to guess what the girl Jason dated after me was told about me. I shouldn't care at all, but I do. I have every reason to accurately be defined as "the crazy ex," and I fucking hate it. Who is your best guy friend? Girt, a friend from high school. Do you read cereal boxes while you’re eating? I did as a kid, but now I don't. I just kinda stand and eat. What’s the last thing you accidentally (or purposely) burnt? I kinda burnt the roof of my mouth on pizza the other night. Do you know anyone with a lip piercing? Me, haha. I know others, too. What did the last tattoo you saw, look like? I don't remember. Have you ever given birth? NO FUCKING THANK YOU. Do you enjoy making out? I mean if I'm in the mood to and I love you, yeah. Why exactly do you take surveys? "I genuinely like doing them and they’re great for venting and sorting out thoughts and whatnot. I can just ramble and get things off my chest." <<<< This right here covers it. As well, it's just a boredom killer. And I happen to be bored very, very often. Rockband or Gutair Hero? Both are great, why choose just one? What are you listening to right now? Halocene's cover of "Helena" by My Chemical Romance. It's beautiful. What kind of energy drinks do you drink, if any? None, because I just can't do energy drinks. They taste like pure poison to me. Have you ever been swimming in a river? No. Swimming in a river sounds pretty dangerous... Does your alarm clock wake you with music, or with an annoying buzz sound? Music. When you broke stuff in the house as a child, did you blame it on siblings? I'm hoping you don't mean breaking deliberately, 'cuz I wasn't that kind of kid. But anyway, I don't believe I did. Did you make it all the way through the Oregon Trail game? Yes. I was obSESSED with those games as a kid. Lions and tigers and bears, oh my! Which one are you more scared of? Tigers, probably. They're so stealthy and, while I may be entirely wrong, seem like the top candidate of the three to attack a human, be it for food or defense. And have you SEEN the muscles on a tiger? Christ. Describe the best use that you’ve found for duct tape: Uh, taping things lmao. Do you wrap gifts or use gift bags? I use gift bags, because I can't wrap for shit. What fast food place do you avoid at all costs? Arby's is really gross to me. Are you afraid of deep sea creatures? Just giant squid... *shudders* Have you ever agreed to purchase something on Ebay and got scammed somehow? No. I did, however, purchase something on deviantART and never got the product. It was going to be a present for Jason. In dA's defense though, I've bought like... two or three other things from there, and there were zero issues. It's really about the people you trust. If you get a call that says “Unknown”, do you answer it? Nnnnope. Do you have any bobble head figures? No. Have your parents ever left you somewhere without realizing it? I don't think so. Have you ever been in a tanning bed? No. Did your last kiss mean anything to you? Well yeah, I wouldn't have kissed her otherwise. Would you say that you have a nice smile? No; I've been self-conscious of it since I was a kid, mostly because one of my eyes looks more squinty than the other, but they both are to me. I've always said I look high when I smile lmao. Is there an ex you want to make up with? My mind immediately screams "Jason," but I know that's a horrendous idea. Our last talk ended peacefully and even with care and good wishes, and I need my fucking impenetrable head to accept that's where it needs to end. He does NOT need to re-enter my life. It would be so bad for me. Do you remember how you felt on 9/11? I have no memory of it, if I'm being honest. What outfit makes you feel the most attractive? None. Other than yourself, who knows you the best? Really? Whoever reads these lmao. What’s one complaint that you have about school? Common Core and how every student's school experience was not tailored towards their unique goals. Like they try to cram a shitload of identical and usually useless information into a kid's brain to make them a jack of all trades, you could say, but not enough information they need to properly pursue their career future. It causes such an unnecessary amount of frustration and stress. I have many, many complaints about the education system, but this one tops the list. What do you do while you’re on campus but not in class? Back in college, I would just do stuff on my laptop. Do you know anyone who has Autism/Asperger’s syndrome? Yes. Are you open to a same-sex relationship and why or why not? Well, considering I'm bisexual... Do you remember life without the internet? No. Have you ever found yourself to be ugly? I've gone my entire life thinking I'm ugly, if I'm being real. What is your state’s minimum wage? $7.25 a fucking hour. :'''''') Is there something you want to say to someone but can’t/won’t? There's a few people. What is your first memory of being in a hospital? Considering my mom worked at the local hospital when I was a kid, I remember being there quite, quite young, playing with my older sister in Mom's and her coworkers' room. I think Nicole was too young to really "play." Do you have any relatives with red hair? No. What is something good that has happened to you in the past week? I got my first Covid vaccine. My arm hurts like a motherfucker now, but to protect my mom, it's worth it. Please get vaccinated. How much was the rent/mortgage at the cheapest place you’ve ever lived? That's never been my business. Have you ever been to a gay pride parade? No, but I would go to a local one if I could actually walk five feet without being in serious pain and sweating like a pig. Do you still keep in touch with your very first best friend? We're friends on Facebook, but that's it. What was the topic of the last conversation you had with your dad? I can't remember, but it was recent, because we all met at Ashley's house for Nicole's birthday celebration. How often did you visit your grandparents when you were growing up? Pretty much never, given they all lived no less than like, 10 hours (via car) from where we lived. My immediate family are the only people in NC. When two family members are fighting, what do you usually do? Stay out of it, but admittedly try to listen just to know what's going on. Do you like the smell of men’s cologne? Yeah. What’s your all time FAVORITE freezer food? Do you eat that a lot? I survive off of microwaveable freezer food, so this is very hard... uhhhhh... perhaps this Banquet bowl meal that's mac 'n cheese with spicy chicken. It's absolutely delicious, like you'd never guess that sucker was just popped in the microwave. I'd say I eat it a moderate amount; it's a reliable option if Mom's not cooking and I'm really hungry, because it's super filling. Do you like documentaries? Have you ever watched one and find it boring? I enjoy them, particularly when they're about animals. Were you ever a fan of macaroni & cheese? Do you like Kraft dinner? Ha, speak of mac 'n cheese. I love it, and Kraft makes it fine. Do you burn incense? Not as much as I used to. I love the smell and just general vibe, though. What would you consider an unacceptable first date? Going to a bar or something. Have you ever been so sick you had to be taken to the hospital? In the head, anyway. Is there anything currently bothering you? Multiple things. Would you say that you’ve got something ‘special’ about you? No. Do you like things vampire-related? I don't really have an opinion on vampire stuff. Are you the kind of person who does not like talking about their past? I don't care. Have you ever been to a casino? No. What’s the last thing you wore a costume for besides Halloween related events? Back when I still took dance classes and we had the yearly recital. What does your father do for a living? He's a mailman. What’s the last app you downloaded on your phone? Haha, I re-downloaded this ollllldddd game I had before, Nyan Cat: Lost in Space (or something like that?) for my niece to play. She's hooked on it now. Are you in any discomfort right now? Yeah; as I mentioned, my arm really hurts. What do you know the most about? Of all things I know, almost certainly meerkats. Are you seeing anyone? No. Have you ever hooked back up with an ex, just for sex? Was it a mistake or no? No. Have you ever gotten in trouble for using a phone in class? No, because I didn't use my phone in class. Have you seen all the Shrek movies? No, which is a fucking crime. I need to see the last one. Have you ever finished a whole video game? Plenty plenty plenty. Do you know anyone with a pet snake? Yeah, myself included. If you had to live in an extreme environment — think Sahara, Antarctica, under the sea, on the Moon— where would you want to live? Why? Probably Antarctica. I'm sure it would be unpleasant, being that cold, but I feel there's more you can do about being cold than being in the scalding heat of, say, the Sahara. Living on the moon or in the deep ocean sounds super sucky. How was your day overall? It's been okay. Not as bored as usual, at least. How many people of the opposite sex do you fully trust? Like... zero. I want to say my dad, and I almost do, just... nightmares make that very, very difficult. Plus his past. What does your mom call you? Normally just "Britt." Write a sentence in another language: Oh god, my German is so rusty... uhhhh... Hallo, ich heiße Brittany, und ich bin 25 Jahre alt und wohne in North Carolina. I think I got the grammar right? Have you ever sent an X-Rated picture to someone? No. Even if I was comfortable with my body, I would be way too paranoid to at any point have a naked picture on my phone, even if I deleted it. Like, hello blackmail, but also, nothing you delete is ever really gone permanently. What big city do you live near? Raleigh is like an hour away. Do you like breaded chicken sandwiches? omg YES Is there a Sonic in your area? Yes, it's my favorite fast food joint. You have GOT to try the pretzel twists with cheese dip. Have you ever gone to a thrift store? Yeah, I love 'em. Do you think Johnny Depp is attractive? I do. Are you happy with the state you live in? No, not at all. I hate this place. Bunch of homophobic, racist rednecks. How many times have you seen the opposite sex naked? It's not like I counted every time I saw my ex naked over three and half years lmao. How many times have you seen the same sex naked? A few times. When days go by, do you cross them off on the calendar? I don't use a calendar. Are you currently counting down to something? If so, what? MY TATTOO APPOINTMENT!!!!! :''') I know I can't stop talking about it, but ugh I'm so excited. May 19th, c'mon already. Do you pay rent to your parents? No. Do you dye eggs for Easter? I used to as a kid. Not so much anymore. Are you in debt right now? For what? Oh god, I don't want to think of this. Would you ever work night crew? I really, really wouldn't want to. Humans are diurnal for a reason. Being awake in constant darkness would depress the fuck outta me, and it'd feel so lonely, with everyone I know asleep. Who was the last person that lied to you, or that you can recall lying to you? What did they lie about? How did you find out they were lying? I don't remember. Has anyone ever called you ugly, straight up, before? How did you react to this? No, not to my face. Who is the most stubborn person you know {excluding yourself}? MY MOTHER.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''helena'' by my chemical romance

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sapphicparker · 4 years

Text

Fell from the sky into my lap // peppermay

Summary: "May Parker, will do you the honor of being my fake girlfriend?” She hold out her hand. May smiles.“Yes, I do, Pepper.” May intertwines their hands together. (AKA fake dating/college au)

Words: 21,231 | Other ships: SteveTony & Yelenat

Warnings: SMUT

(Also available on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23921644)

May Parker rarely lies but when she does, let’s just say she’s the mighty, great leader and sole creator of the ‘lying is totally okay and cool’ club. They even have jackets, leather ones to be exact. She doesn’t do it out of habit or force, it just happens and she, eventually, deals with the consequences later. The short list of lies she’s ever told aren’t as catastrophic, most of them range from lying about not doing homework to studying for an important exam, even making up an excuse not to go out. Even telling her boyfriend she was home sick when in reality she was cheating on him.

Okay, maybe the last one is a bit much, but in her defense, they were already broken up and she definitely didn’t think he would come back a few hours after their final fight to get his boxes of shit while seeing her go down on some girl she met at the bar right after their fight. The biggest lie she has told was to her parents, who she hasn’t seen in a couple months, is that she’s bringing someone home for winter break.

Before the inevitable break-up;

Honestly before the fight, her and Ben were doing great. They met at one of the bars, Carter’s, right down the block by campus. Did their usual routine, two or three beers, depending on what kind of day they had. He would talk about football and courses he was taking, but mostly about football. May honest to god tried to pay attention but that night, her mind was somewhere else. Somewhere else like finding an engagement ring in a drawer. She shuddered at the thought of marriage, not that she liked it, she did, it’s a huge commitment that she was in no way, shape, or form ready for it.

She grabbed her beer and chugged it as Ben began to about classes and bullshit drama that somehow crossed his path during the day. After an hour or two they went back to May’s place, put on Netflix and did some homework.

To this day May still silently thanks god everyday that meeting Ben wasn’t set up by some dating app but instead by one of their mutual friends. She still remembers it like it was yesterday. Carter’s bar is not the most spacious or extravagant looking bar, it still has it’s charm and outside good looks. The inside however smelled like aged old liquor and a weird sense of mildew. Truly comforting in its own weird way.

As for Ben, he’s just like any ordinary tall, brunette, college football player who is somehow not a pretentious douchebag. Him and May were friends at first, good friends even. Ben needed a place to stay for awhile, so she let him room with her. Awhile turned into weeks, which turned into a couple months, and then into him moving into his own place…down the hall from her.

May thought it was nice seeing him every time she had to do laundry or even throw out the trash, sometimes he would get both of their mail so she wouldn’t have to trudge down the flight of stairs to get it. May knew the first time she realized she liked Ben was when he came over for their annual Friday movie night. Usually, she was the one to remind him but, this time he remembered, it was a tiny thing that made her stomach do the weird butterfly thing. He even brought over Chinese food takeout and a cheap bottle of wine.

A couple weeks down the road they kissed and it was nice and exciting and new. They would wait for each other after classes, get some drinks and study together. May would go to his practices and games, cheer him on, even wear his jersey. After games they would get ice cream, it didn’t matter if he won or lost, or if it rained or shined, they would go.

They lasted around eleven months or a year, May honestly doesn’t remember, and it was bad on her part, actually it’s both of their fault. May told Ben she found the ring, he asked her if she wanted to marry him, she said no. May explained to him why she didn’t want to, that she wasn’t looking for that kind of commitment right now and she definitely didn’t want to be tied down. She was still young, she wanted to live more, worry less.

Ben didn’t like that, he got all defensive, arguing back about some bullshit leading him on, so what did May do? She rolled her eyes, told him she’s going out and to pack his shit and leave. Next morning, Ben comes home to get his things and sees May having sex with someone. He quickly shuts the door and never returns. May still has his boxes stacked in the hallway closet, she hasn’t opened the door since.

Flash forward to now. May’s currently very single and lonely at this place and time. She’s wearing an old ACDC shirt that she “borrowed” from Carol and a pair of plaid pajama shorts while sitting on an old maroon couch drinking wine as season six of Great British Bake Off plays in the background. Yeah, that little fling she had with that bar girl, she doesn’t remember her name, it sounded like that coffee company, Folgers. May tilts her head trying to remember the name, it takes her a moment until it comes back to her, like someone flicked on the light switch. She snap her fingers. Felicia, that’s it.

May pours more wine into her glass as she narrows down possible fake boyfriend, or girlfriend options. Separating them into two columns; boys slash girls, and jotting down basically everyone she knows. Boys; Steve, Quentin, and Bruce. Girls; Carol, Jane, and Maria.

She takes sip of her wine before immediately crossing out the lists and throwing the notepad onto the adjacent coffee table. May lets out a heavy sigh and lays her head back on the couch, she feels entirely overwhelmed and more stressed than when she took midterms. It’s at this moment her black cat, Milo, jumps onto the couch and purrs. He rubs his head on her arm and looks up with his black eyes, tilting his head, almost as if he can sense something is wrong. May gently scratches his cheek.

“It’s okay, buddy. Everything is fine,” she say to him as if he can somehow understand and magically talk back to her. He immediately jumps into May’s lap, curling up into a ball. This has to be some kind of witchcraft, she thinks to herself. Not that black cats are often associated with witches, they are, but Milo is special in his own way.

A groan slips out of her mouth when she realizes she has a, now, sleeping cat on her lap and she absolutely refuses to wake him up. That’s the second rule you have to follow when you get a pet, owner shall not move when said pet is sleeping on you. Right on top of feeding your pet and loving them unconditionally.

Mumbling ‘fuck it’ under her breath, May reaches for the tv remote and turns the volume up. In this particular episode of Great British Bake Off, the bakers are making a delicate spongecake. May has never in her life wanted spongecake more than she does right now. Grabbing her phone from the side table, May unlocks it and opens the notes app. Typing, GET SPONGECAKE, in all caps to let her future self know that it’s important to get it when she eventually leaves the comfort of her bed to do grocery shopping tomorrow morning.

She adds in the following; eggs, almond milk, coffee, coffee creamer, peaches, strawberries, mashed potatoes, box of pasta (x2), White bread, plums, chocolate and vanilla ice cream.

Satisfied with her list, she puts the phone down only to pick it up again when it rings. The name ‘Tony’ with the black heart emoji next to it flashes along with a horrible selfie of him. May’s finger slides over the answer and she puts him on speaker, holding the phone in her hand.

“What do you want you, gremlin,” May says annoyingly as she tries to focus on the tv, taking a sip of wine.

“Well, hello to you too, what’s up?”

May rolls her eyes. “You called me, genius.”

Tony lets out a gasp. “Yes, yes I did. My mistake.” He takes a breath before continuing. “Right, what are your plans for winter break?”

“I’m unfortunately going home, remember? Or did you completely forget what we talked about this morning at the coffee shop.”

“I didn’t forget.” May could hear the exaggeration in his voice.

“Yeah, sure you did,” May says as she raises an eyebrow at one of the contestants forming an elaborate cake that might possibly take up all the baking time.

Tony scoffs and May’s sure he’s shaking his head. “Do you or do you not want to come back with me for winter break, instead of going back home?”

“That’s sweet, Tones, but I already told my folks I’m coming back and that I’m bringing someone.” She mumbles the last part, hoping he doesn’t hear it.

“I’m sorry, what was the last part?”

May groans. Damn bastard has ears like a goddamn hawk.

She lets out a sigh, “I told my parents that I was bringing someone home for break. I’m pretty sure they think it’s Ben, they don’t know that we broke up, so they’ll find out when I come home.”

“You really need to stop lying about things, May. I know sometimes you can control it, but in situations like this you really shouldn’t.”

May pinches the bridge of her nose, “if you’re going to lecture me, please wait at least 24 hours before doing so.”

“Fine, at least tell me who you’re bringing?”

She pauses and that seems to be a good enough answer for Tony.

“Are you serious? Winter break is literally in a few days and you don’t know!” Tony exclaims over the phone loudly and May lowers the volume a tad bit.

“I’ll figure it out, I always do,” May confidently says, knowing damn well, she have no clue what to do.

“I don’t believe you but, alright. I’m coming over for lunch tomorrow since Steve’s taking his last midterm, sound good?”

“Fantastic. See you then,” May says before Tony mumbles out a ‘bye, love you’

May casually tosses her phone onto the side table, not really caring whether or not it dies overnight, or mysterious lives thanks to the new and improved battery life span. Eventually she finishes the episode, the credits begin to roll when Milo stirs in her lap. He turns his body facing her, a small meow echos throughout the room along with the Great British Bake Off song credits.

“Did you have a nice nap?” she says softly, rubbing her nose against his fur, he purrs in agreement. “Yeah, I bet you did, buddy.” Shutting Netflix off, May carefully lifts Milo off her lap and cradles him in her arms as she simultaneously grabs her phone.

Once in the bedroom, May puts Milo down on the bed, he immediately curls up at the end of it. Plugging in her phone and setting it down on the bedside table, she grabs the blankets and comforter, shuffles a couple times before finding a comfortable position and falls asleep.

It’s next morning when she hears her phone ringtone blaring throughout her room. May’s eyes are still closed when she reaches over, answering it without a care in the world who could be calling her this early in the morning.

“Hello?” She mumbles, her voice still horse and clouded.

“I’m here with coffee, let me in.” It’s Tony because of course it is.

May lets out a groan, she hangs up, and rubs the sleep out of her eyes. She trudges to the door, unlocking it, and welcomes Tony in. She lets out a yawn as she stares at the brunette man now standing in her kitchen.

“You know, you could be nicer in the morning. I did bring you coffee.” Tony hands her an ice coffee. May takes a sip and a small smile appears on her face. She sticks her tongue out at him before sitting on the couch, one leg under the other.

“Why are you here? I thought we were meeting for lunch, not breakfast,” May calls out to Tony as he’s lazily pouring cat food into Milo’s dish, some of it tumbles out of it and onto the floor, Tony shamelessly kicks it under the fridge. Milo appears in front of him and Tony lets out a gasp, clenching his chest.

“Jesus christ, Milo!”

May lets out a loud laugh and Tony stares at her, completely flabbergasted that she would laugh at his pain. May lets out a breath, “I should’ve warned you, he tends to do that when he gets food.”

“You think!” Tony exclaims as he shakes his head. He kneels down to scratch Milo’s head, the black cat lets out a small meow before digging into his breakfast.

“I’m telling you, he belongs to witches or something.” Tony shakes his head and smiles at Milo before standing back up and grabs his coffee. May looks up at him when he enters the living room, Tony jumps onto the couch and sits crisscross, staring at her.

“What?” She asks questionably.

“Did you think about who you’re bringing home yet? You still have time to change your mind and come back with me.”

May immediately lets out a groan, she hoped Tony would have forgot it by now but, no. He can remember what they talked about yesterday but he can’t remember his goddamn anniversary.

“Not yet,” May pauses to take drink the rest of her coffee, occasionally slurping it, causing an annoying sound to echo in the room. Tony rolls his eyes at her childlike behavior. “And, no to coming with you. As much as I love Jarvis’ cooking, I promised I would go home for break.”

Tony nods his head. “I’ll bring you leftovers but you might not get it with how much Steve eats.” May chuckles.

“That’s alright, i’ll take my chances. I just need to find someone who will actually go along with it.” A sigh escapes May’s lips.

Tony thinks for a moment and snaps his fingers, breaking May’s train of thought, not that she was thinking about anything in the moment anyway.

“What?” She asks.

“I think I know someone, wait do you want male or female?”

May stares at him, one of her scary death stares that Tony hates. He immediately puts his hands up. “Alright, jeez. Just stop looking at me like that. God, you’re worse than Milo.”

It’s nighttime and May is sitting uncomfortably in a fancy restaurant, she checks her watch again for the third time that night. Her date, who Tony set her up with, was fifty minutes late and she felt awful for the poor waitress who kept coming up to her asking for her order. May sighs as she drinks the remaining wine in her glass, she gestures towards the waitress for another bottle, dear god she’s going to need it. The waitress, Pepper is her name, leaves the bottle on the table.

“Are you sure I can’t get you anything else? I’m sure bread and wine isn’t the most suitable meal.”

May reads the menu again. “You’re right. You know what? I think I’ll have the ravioli.”

“Excellent choice, I’ll bring that out for you shortly.” Pepper smiles.

May bites the inside of her cheek. “Please take your time, it’s not like I’m waiting for anyone else.” She gestures towards the empty seat in front of her.

Pepper’s lips curl up into her mouth, she looks around the restaurant before leaning down to May’s height, “I’ll throw in a free desert, just for you.”

The glass of wine stills in May’s hand, the red liquid swooshes around in it. She turns to look at Pepper, her tongue poking out to wet her lips. “Why, thank you.”

Pepper walks away towards the kitchen and May can’t help but stare at her as she does. Her line of sight is interrupted by her phone ringing. Without even reading the I.D, May already knows who it is.

“Hi Tony,” she grumbles into the phone.

“Hi darling, so tell me everything, how is he? Great?”

May’s jaw clenches, she doesn’t want to cause a scene in this very nice restaurant. “Well, darling,” she imitates Tony’s tone, “it’s been an hour and I’m sitting here alone in this fucking expensive ass place.”

“What?”

“You heard me, Stark.”

“But I- I don’t understand. He was actually excited for it, I don’t know why,” Tony rambles on and May isn’t listening to a word he’s saying because her eyes are flowing over to Pepper talking to customers.

“May? You still there?”

She lets out a cough, “yeah, I’m still here. I’m getting dinner for one.”

“Oh, okay, I was just gonna come to you but if you’re good,” Tony’s voice trails off as May stares at Pepper who’s carrying a tray of food over one shoulder and placing it down onto the serving table. She bends down to grab extra napkins and forks and May can’t help but advert her eyes down to Pepper’s body. Tight black jeans do wonders for everyone.

“Parker!” Tony yells out. May does a double-take and blinks repeatedly. “Jesus christ, what the hell! I’ve been talking for two minutes without an interruption.”

“Sorry, I got distracted,” May says as her face becomes flushed.

“Distracted from?” Tony coerces out.

“There’s a really cute waitress who’s working tonight,” May whispers into the phone and Tony reacts how anyone would, by letting out an excited scream.

“No way! Steve! May’s crushing on the waitress,” Tony says excitedly. In the background May can hear Steve say ‘are you serious, Tony hang up! Let her get back to the date.’ Tony shushes him.

“Goodbye, Tony,” May hangs up the phone as Tony yells excuses to not hang up.

May’s putting her phone back into her bag when Pepper is walking towards her with dinner. She places it in front of her. May takes a breath. “This looks great, thank you.” A genuine smile flashes across her face.

“Enjoy, I’ll just be over here if you need anything.” Pepper smiles and nods her head in the direction where she’ll be. She begins to walk away when May grabs her forearm, stopping in her step.

“Please, sit,” May gestures towards the empty seat in front of her. Pepper looks around the restaurant, it’s late and nearly empty with a few stragglers and the clean up crew’s about to start coming in. Pepper immediately sits down and loosens her tie, pulling it down a few inches before unbuttoning her collar.

May digs into her ravioli, it tastes so delicate and warm, and the sauce is great, a mix of red and vodka sauce. It might be one of May’s new favorite dishes. “So do you like being a waitress?”

Pepper chuckles, “Is this how you always begin conversations?” She grabs a water pitcher from a nearby empty table and fills up a glass, nearly downs the whole glass and lets out a breath. May smiles before taking another bite. “Not always but I thought I would give it a shot.”

A small smirk appears on Pepper’s face, “I just need this job to help pay for college. It’s only a couple days a week so it’s not all bad.” May hums in agreement and takes a sip of wine.

“Can I be honest for a second.” May nods her head. “Who the fuck stood you up tonight?” May lets out a loud cackle. She covers her mouth with her hand to subdue her laughter. Pepper stares at her, for the first time that night she actually really looks at her. She notices how May gets crinkles in the corner of her eyes when she laughs really loud. She notices her dimples rise up when she grins a certain way. She notices how her brown eyes look lighter, more warmer in the light. She notices how her cheeks get more flushed, a light shade of pink. And lastly, Pepper notices how her heart is beating like a drum in her chest and how her palms are suddenly clammy, and how she wants May to feel like this every day of the week.

Once May has calmed down, she wipes an invisible tear from her eye and drinks the remaining wine in her glass. “Thank you, I needed a good laugh.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll let you finish your meal and I’ll bring dessert out,” Pepper says as she stands up from the table.

“Hopefully for two?”

“Absolutely,” Pepper walks away towards the remaining stragglers, talking to them. May sighs contently, she suddenly feels very warm and a tad nauseous.

Ten minutes pass by and May eats half of her ravioli dish. She leans back in her chair, deciding she’s definitely bringing leftovers home. Pepper exits the kitchen carrying a plate of dessert. Once in front of May, she places it on the table. “Chocolate mousse cake with vanilla ice cream on top.”

May licks her lips. “Looks great, shall we?”

“We shall,” Pepper hands May a spoon and they dig in. It’s so rich and creamy and delicious. Once dessert is devoured by the two of them, Pepper grabs a take-out container and puts May’s leftovers in it, sealing it in a brown paper bag. May hands Pepper her card for the check, after a brief moment she comes back with it.

“Thank you. I hope the rest of your night is lovely.”

May smiles, “Yours too.” She pauses for a second, her breath catches in her throat. “When do you get off work?”

Pepper stares at her, mouth agape, and she looks at her watch. “My shift ended ten minutes ago.” She chuckles awkwardly, hoping to ease the sudden tension.

May has her coat on, her bag slung over her shoulder and leftovers in hand. She turns to look at Pepper, “You wanna get out of here?”

Pepper nods her head, “yes, yes. Let me get my things.”

May watches Pepper run off to get her things, as she does, she quickly texts Tony. No, she texts Steve because he’s more likely to read it. She texts him; ‘I know Tony won’t respond so I’m telling you to tell him to not come over in the morning for breakfast.’ Seconds later Steve replies, ‘will do’ with the thumbs up emoji, followed by, ‘late night? And wink emoji.’ May responses back with the middle finger emoji and once she does Pepper is at her side. She puts her phone in her bag and they’re out the door.

The minute they’re back in May’s apartment, May has Pepper pressed against the door. They shuffle their jackets off, their bags land on the hardwood floor with a thud. Peppers arms are around May’s waist, pulling her closer. She presses her soft lips onto May’s, they move in sync, letting out breathy moans before Pepper slides her tongue into May’s mouth, deepening the kiss. May grabs Pepper by her neck, pulling her closer until the silky fabric of May’s dress rubs against her now, slightly unbuttoned shirt. Pepper shivers at the touch of it, small goosebumps rise on her exposed skin. They pull away for a second, both chests heaving and feeling hot.

“Bedroom?”

“Definitely.”

It’s early in the morning when May wakes up, she turns her head to look at the alarm clock, instantly rolling her eyes when she sees that it reads exactly eight a.m. She wipes the sleep out of her eyes before rubbing her bare shoulders and reaches down to the floor, grabbing a white t-shirt and throws it over her naked torso. It’s not perfect, there’s a small coffee stain on it, but she doesn’t care because Pepper is still in bed.

May carefully reaches over to move a blonde strand out Pepper’s eyes before placing a kiss on her forehead and quietly gets up to make some coffee and breakfast. She hears the pitter-patter of Milo behind her as she enters the kitchen. As the coffee machine powers up, May gives Milo his breakfast, he lets out a soft meow as if he’s saying thank you. May ponders for a moment deciding on what to make for breakfast, she opens the fridge to see it almost bare and empty. She lets out a groan when realizing she got held up with Tony and forgot to go grocery shopping. She settles on making French toast, making a couple slices and topping it with powered sugar and syrup. The coffee machine lets out a beep and she pours the dark, warm liquid into two mugs, adding two spoonfuls of sugar and an insane amount of coffee creamer. May lets out a content sigh when she takes a sip, it’s perfect.

Pepper wakes up as sunlight shines through the window, her skin feels warm and soft and golden. She reaches over to check the time on her phone, it reads eight-thirty along with text messages from a group chat. She stretches a hand out to feel a cold spot, her bottom lip pokes out. She wanted to wrap her arms around May and thank her for making her feel like she escalated to another world, for feeling like she saw the moon and stars and everything beyond.

Pepper grabs a discarded hoodie that was on a nearby chair and throws it over her, lifting up her blonde locks that got stuck under the neck hole. The smell of French toast leads her to the kitchen, where she quietly watched May sit on the counter sipping her coffee while watching tv. May looks up from her coffee and sees Pepper, her eyes light up.

“Morning! I made breakfast and coffee.”

Pepper swears she could stay here forever, she could get use to this. May hands her the other coffee mug and Pepper doesn’t miss the cute look on May’s face when she takes a sip of her black coffee.

“I’m not even going to ask about that,” May’s eyes advert towards the mug in Pepper’s hand. Pepper nods her head. “Good, cause that’ll be up for debate later or another day.” She takes another sip of coffee.

“I forgot to go grocery shopping so I made French toast.”

Pepper smiles. “It smells wonderful. I haven’t had French toast in forever.” She cuts a piece off, dips it in syrup, and takes a bite. She gives May a thumbs up as continues to devour the breakfast food. May finished her remaining piece of French toast a few minutes before Pepper came into the kitchen, she sits quietly drinking her coffee as Pepper eats. May smirks to herself, god knows she worked up an appetite last night.

Once Pepper is done eating, she looks up at May, silently hating that she has the height advantage now that she’s on the counter. She places her hands on May’s thighs. “You have a little,” May begins before licking her thumb and wiping off some powder sugar at the corner of Pepper’s lip, “there. All good.”

“God, you’re so cute,” Pepper breathes out before kissing May. Her hands slide up her torso towards May’s face where she cups her cheeks, her thumbs comfortably resting on her cheekbones as she gently caresses her soft skin. May smiles into the kiss, she feels lightweight, like she’s floating on a cloud. It’s soft when Pepper kisses May, she grabs Pepper’s waist pulling her in between her thighs. She holds onto her waist as she wraps her legs around Pepper's.

Pepper’s tongue darts into May’s mouth as she lets out a low moan, a hint of heat radiating off both of them. Pepper pulls away for a moment, a pout immediately forms on May’s face. Pepper chuckles as she takes off the hoodie, she’s bare underneath except for her underwear and May bites her lip. Pepper lets out a gasp when May’s cold hands touch her, the hair on her arms stick up slightly as she moves her hands towards Pepper’s neck. Her hands remain still on Pepper’s chin, “if you’re cold, I can warm you up in no time.” May pulls Pepper into a kiss and they return to their former position. May’s about to take off her shirt when there’s a knock at the door.

“Who the fuck is that?” May growls as she jumps off the counter and darts towards the door. The door is open in a flash and May is annoyed at the sight in front of her. Of course, it's Tony, with a smile on his face while Steve is daunting an ‘i’m sorry’ look. May is looking at them both with an expression that could make a child cry.

“Go away,” she practically yells at them.

Steve sighs, “I’m sorry, you know how he gets. I tried my best to make him stay home.”

May rests a hand on her hip. “Yeah, that worked out pretty well, huh Steve. Did you not try sex?”

Tony perks up at the mention of sex, “Oh, you bet he did.” He mouths the word ‘twice’ and holds up two fingers, Steve rolls his eyes. May shakes her head knowing there’s no way they’re not just going to stand in the hallway all day, she moves out of the way to let the boys in.

“Put the hoodie back on, we’ve got company,” May says annoyingly as she makes her way back into the kitchen. She begins to put the dishes into the sink when Tony lets out a shriek, almost making May drop a mug.

“Shut up, Pepper!”

“Hi Tony.”

Tony does a double-take, looking at May then Pepper, then May again before letting out a gasp. “Oh my god.”

Steve gently pushes Tony into a seat on the couch, letting him absorb everything his genius brain can handle, before helping May in the kitchen. He’s handing her various plates and forks around the kitchen, eventually getting distracted by Milo who was now sitting on the counter, meowing at Steve to pet him. He happily obliges, a smile plastered across his face as he does.

“Okay! I’m good,” Tony yells as he claps his hands together.

Pepper shakes her head, she looks over his shoulder to see May making another pot of coffee. It only takes a few seconds before May is looking back at Pepper, she mouths an ‘i’m sorry’ with a pouty look. Pepper shrugs before mouthing back, ‘it’s okay’ and blows a kiss. May blushes.

“So how did you two meet?” Tony says as he rests his arm on the couch, leaning closer to Pepper. May is in the living room now, changing the tv channel on the remote to a Will & Grace marathon. She falls into Pepper’s lap, earning a giggle from the blonde and blocks Tony’s view of her. Steve carefully drops Milo into Tony’s lap, he stares at the black cat, still not over yesterday’s incident of scaring him to death. Milo looks at him before jumping down and walking over to Steve, who sat in the corner loveseat. Milo jumps into his lap and comfortably lays down.

Steve smiled, his dimples coming into play as Tony shared a look of jealousy at him. He let out a scoff before bringing his attention back to May and Pepper. Tony let out a cough. “Can I get an answer or is this going to be a bigger mystery than finding out if an actress is gay or not?”

May scoffs, “First of all, we always find out. Second, we met last night at the restaurant. Remember, your guy didn’t show up? Pepper was the waitress.” Tony’s face lit up like a little kid on Christmas. Pepper chuckled as she shook her head. God, Tony was one of a kind, there was certainly no one in the world like him.

“How did it go?” Tony asks as he sits in a criss-cross position, hands clasped together with his chin resting in them. A literal child.

“It was going well until you showed up,” May blurts out as Pepper shushed her. May sighs. “It’s very good.” Pepper rubs her arm up and down May’s in a comforting manner, already feeling how tense and annoyed she is. Something she’ll definitely have to get used too.

Steve snaps his fingers causing everyone to look at him, including Milo who raised a paw at him. “Why don’t you ask Pepper to come home with you for winter break? You said you were bringing someone. Well, here you go.” May looks at Steve with an expression he can’t read, nor understand. She side eyes Pepper, she was definitely not in the position to ask Pepper to come home with her to meet her family. They just met last night and May was in no way ready for her to get caught up in her bullshit, she wanted Pepper to be hers and only hers. She didn’t want her to be a victim to the chaos her family causes, May just wanted to stay in the little happy bubble with her. But eventually the bubble pops and you have to make a new one, oh, what the hell could go wrong.

“What’s he talking about?” Pepper asks, a wave of concern flashes across her faces. May sighs.

“I wasn’t even going to bring it up, Steven,” May angrily says as she looks at Steve, his face is filled with regret the moment May says his full name. He immediately looks down at Milo, petting him softly as he licks Steve’s hand.

“I told my parents I was bringing someone home for winter break, so I told Tony I just need to find someone to fake date until it’s over, it’s only for two days. I was planning on cutting the reunion special early anyway.” Pepper nods her head, taking everything in.

“Okay,” Pepper says.

May raises an eyebrow, “okay what?”

“I’ll do it, I’ll come with you. I’m not doing anything for break. My parents are going to some ski resort upstate. Plus, I’m an only child.”

May hesitates for a moment, her mouth agape. For once, she’s utterly speechless. Her mouth curls up into her mouth, “you know what? Fuck it. Yes.”

Pepper grins, “Let’s make it official. May Parker, will do you the honor of being my fake girlfriend?” She hold out her hand. May smiles.

“Yes, I do, Pepper.” May intertwines their hands together. They stare at one another and Pepper looks at May like she holds all the secrets to the universe and wants to discover all of them, including the hidden ones. It’s no secret May’s a tad bit scared of commitment, but she’s looking at Pepper as if all the stars and moon combined into one single element. It’s barely been twenty-four hours and she knows she wants Pepper in her life.

It’s the day before they head to May’s family home and May is immediately regretting even going. She hasn’t packed yet, and she can’t bring Milo with them because her dad is severely allergic to cats. May rolls her eyes for the third time, Pepper has counted so far, sitting across the island table as May talks to her mother on the phone. May put her on speakerphone so Pepper could hear what the devil incarnated sounds like before meeting her in person.

May mouths ‘blah, blah, blah’ as her mother goes on and on about her cousin getting remarried again. She imitates Darth Vader using the force to choke herself until her mother calls her name.

“May”

“Yeah?”

“Are you listening to me or are you drowning me out by staring at the tv screen?”

May lets out a cough, “no, i’m totally listening. You were talking about Natasha getting remarried.”

“Yes! I can’t believe she’s already getting remarried after divorcing Matthew last year!” May’s mother exclaims. May could hear the annoyance through the phone.

“Well, some people move on fast and I think this is good for Nat, you know how she can be,” May says genuinely, she always defends Natasha.

“I just don’t understand,” her mother trails off and May looks at Pepper. She’s caressing Milo as he’s lies down on the counter, his eyes are closed and purring softly.

“Your dad said you’re bringing someone with you? Is it Ben? I’ve missed him, how is he?” And just like that, May’s entire demeanor is changed, Pepper immediately stops petting Milo to look at May.

“Oh, um, yeah i’m bringing someone but it’s not Ben. We broke up,” May says carefully, almost like she’s stepping on eggshells, one wrong move and it’ll break.

“Oh no, what happened? He was so sweet, May.”

May ran a hand through her brown locks, she pulled on the ends. “I don’t really remember, mom. Listen, I gotta go, I have to start packing.”

“Okay, sweetie. Remember to bring sweaters! It’s cold here!” May hangs up and lets out a heavy sigh as she crosses her arms on the counter, resting her head in them. Pepper is behind her, rubbing her shoulders in a comforting manner, she places a kiss to her hair. “It’s gonna be okay, I promise.”

May lifts her head up and turns to face Pepper, she blows a raspberry. “You really think so? I mean, what you heard was only the beginning of it. We don’t even have to go, we can just stay here or even go to Tony’s.”

Pepper shakes her head, “there’s no way you can get out of this, you promised and you’re going to fulfill it.”

May lets out a groan and crosses her arms over her chest, “fine but you’re helping me pack.” She grabs Pepper’s arm and drags her to the bedroom.

“I wouldn’t want to be doing anything else.”

They haven’t gotten on the plane yet and May is already dreading this. She hasn’t even had her coffee yet, and it was definitely killing her mood. Steve, the ever so sweetheart, drove the two of them to the airport at the ass crack of dawn. He was already out on his morning run before picking them up and was in the most perky, happiest, mood ever. In the car ride to the airport, Steve was telling them that he let Tony sleep in, knowing how much of a little shit he’s going to be when Steve eventually wakes him up to get on the road to his parents house later in the day.

May’s knee bounced up and down as she waited for their flight to be called, she was getting impatient as she laid her head back on the chair, eyes closed. A sudden cough made May open her eyes, she looked up and saw Pepper standing in front of her, holding two hot cups of coffee. May perked up, her eyes widened. Pepper outstretched May’s cup, their hands touched briefly when May grabbed it. She took a sip and let out a heavenly sigh. Pepper smiled at her as she took a sip of her own, sitting down next to her.

“When do you think our flight will be-”

“Flight 702 to New Hampshire is now boarding,” the announcer yells in a horrible, yet mildly disgusted, tone.

“Never mind,” Pepper chuckles as both of them stand and grab their carry ons . On the plane, they have a row to their selves, Pepper gives May the window seat. It’s a short flight and May falls asleep the entire time, her head resting on Pepper’s shoulder. Pepper doesn’t sleep, she’s too busy reading the book she brought with her and making sure May’s okay. She doesn’t tell May that two people told her they were a cute couple, Pepper smiled and thanked them for their kind words.

May wakes up when the plane touches down on the runway, she looks out the window to see that it’s snowing, she lets out an inaudible groan and turns to see Pepper talking to the flight attendant about the weather. Their conversation ends when she announces they can start exiting the plane.

“Did I sleep the whole flight? I’m sorry.”

Pepper pushes a strand of May’s hair behind her ear, “It’s okay, you were tired. Everyone heard you snoring.” May gasps, “I don’t snore!” Pepper lets out a chuckle as she grabs her bags in one hand and May’s in the other. May smiles.

Natasha is waiting outside the airport for them and May’s entire mood is lightened. She pulls May into a hug and ushers them into her car, instantly cranking the heat up before turning to Pepper, in the backseat. She holds her hand out, “i’m Natasha, May’s favorite cousin.” Pepper shakes her hand. “Very nice to meet you, Natasha.” Natasha smiles and pulls out of her spot and starts driving to their destination, the radio is playing soft music on low.

“Mom told me you’re getting remarried?” May questions once their silence got enough. Natasha smiles and holds out her left hand, the diamond on her finger isn’t big, it’s small, wrapped around a silver band, and it’s just perfect for her. “It’s so simple, I love it,” May says happily as she watches Natasha take another look at it before using said hand to turn on the blinker, making a right turn.

“Do I even want to know who gave it to you?” May says curiously.

A hint of blush appears on Natasha’s face, she clears her throat, “guess.”

May lets out a heavy sigh, “are you kidding me? I haven’t seen you in so long and you’re making me guess! Can you believe this Pep?” May turns in her seat to look at Pepper who pauses for a second, “Is it a woman?”

Natasha doesn’t say anything which essentially means yes, and May lets out a gasp. She repeatedly claps her hands in excitement, “Oh my god yes!” Natasha grins.

“How did you know?” Natasha asks into the rearview mirror, her undivided attention on Pepper. Pepper smiles and she leans forward, resting her arms on her knees. “You look happier, and the ring is simple, yet elegant. It’s not drawing a lot of attention, it’s just right. Plus, you should have cleaned out your car before picking us up because there’s a lace bra back here.”

May laughs loudly as Natasha mumbles ‘fuck’ under her breath. She puts the car into park once they pull into a driveway. May lets out out a deep breath. “Do mom and dad know?

Natasha shakes her head, “not yet. She’s coming over soon. I can’t wait for you to meet her May. You too, Pepper. You’re gonna love her.” May smiles. In all her years she’s known Natasha, she’s never once been this excited for May to meet someone. She’s met her former husband, Matthew, but only on rare occasions. Natasha was never a very open person with her relationship, so this was all new to May, and she likes it. She likes it when Natasha is openly accepting and vulnerable, showing her true colors to people she loves dearly. May can see it in her eyes, the way she talks about her fiancée is so soft and unique, you can see how in love she is. May reaches over the cupholders to pull Natasha into a hug, she instinctively wraps her arms around the smaller woman, burying her head into her shoulder.

“You know I love you,” May mumbles. Natasha smiles into her shoulder, slowly swaying her back and forth. “Of course I do, you dork.” Natasha releases May from her embrace and they exit the car. The snow is coming down hard as they stand outside the front door of May’s parents house. May exhales a shaky breath as Pepper grabs her hand and rubs her knuckles softly.

“You know, we can just run back to the car and get a hotel?”

Natasha gives her a look, “you know we can’t do that. Stop trying to run away.” She opens the front door and the three of them are instantly greeted by warm air and the sound of voices echoing throughout the house. May immediately leads Pepper up the stairs to her former room, the loft a.k.a the attic. Once in the room, May shuts the door, locking it before letting out a breath. Pepper looks around the room, curiosity getting to the best of her as she takes everything in, admiring all of May’s little nicknacks and decor.

“This is where the magic happens,” May says as she slides a hand over her comforter, a sly smirk flashes across her face. Pepper chuckles as she shrugs off her carryon bag, placing it onto the couch in front of the bay window. May’s room is very cozy and simple, Pepper’s eye is immediately drawn to the huge bookcase adjacent to the queen size bed, the books on the shelves are old and new, and of course they’re in alphabetical order. She drags her fingers across the books.

“It took me awhile to finally complete it and a lot of money at thrift bookstores,” May chuckles as Pepper smiles, still taking her time to look at the books, “it’s very impressive.”

There’s a knock at the door and May lets out a groan, she trudges to the door, opening it to reveal Natasha standing next to a petite blonde woman who looks nervous. They don’t bother asking to enter because Natasha grabs the woman and pulls her into the room, taking a seat on the couch. May stares at the empty hallway, flabbergasted, she shuts the door.

“A simple hi would’ve done but okay, what’s up?” May rests her hands on her hips. She gives Pepper, who leans back on the book shelves, a confused look. Natasha grabs the woman’s hand, intertwining them together, her thumb rubs her knuckles. “This is my fiancée, Yelena.”

May lets out a gasp, her mouth agape. She runs over to the two of them and hugs them tightly, Natasha has to pry her arms off of them. May awkwardly chuckles. “Hi Yelena, i’m May. Natasha’s favorite cousin.” She extends an arm out to the blonde. Natasha rolls her eyes, “you’re my only cousin, idiot.”

Yelena shakes May’s hand, “it’s very nice to meet you, May. Nat has told me a lot about you.” May lets out a squeak, “you let her call you Nat! That’s so cute! No one in the family is allowed to call her that.”

“It’s true,” Natasha says as she shrugs her shoulders. She pulls Yelena in closer, making her comfortable as she lays back on Natasha’s chest, pressing a kiss to her hair. May grins, she extends a hand out to Pepper, pulling her to the bed. They lay back against the many pillows on the bed.

“This is Pepper, my girlfriend,” May says to Yelena, they both wave to one another. Natasha gives May a look, like she trying to figure something out but, May shrugs it off.

“Your mom’s looking for you,” Natasha says when she’s putting Yelena’s hair into a French braid. Yelena smiles at her through the mirror next to them. May lets out an incoherent groan and drops her head back on the headboard, banging it slightly. “Did you see her?” May looks at Natasha.

“Yep,” Natasha says as a small chuckle escapes her lips. Yelena turns to look at Natasha, “tell her, please.” A smile is across her face in a flash. May immediately sits upright, “tell me what?” She’s curious, along with Pepper who imitates her.

“Melina had already met Yelena a couple days ago, and she’s really happy so I thought it would be the same with your mom so,” Natasha is interrupted by May letting out yet, another groan, “let me finish telling the story you little shit.” A pout forms across May’s face. Pepper kisses her cheek, and the pout disappears.

“So I introduce Yelena to your mom and she said,” Natasha laughs, along with Yelena. She takes a breath to get regain her composure, “she said it’s so nice of you to bring your gal pal with you, the matching rings are adorable!” May cackles loudly to the point where she’s clenching her stomach and repeatedly hitting Pepper, who’s covering her mouth with her hand to subdue her laughter.

“Shut the fuck up! You’re lying!” She blurts out as she takes a deep breath.

“I swear to god May, Yelena can vouch for me,” Natasha gestures towards Yelena who nods her head and wipes a tear from her eye.

“I told you it would be a nightmare,” May whispers to Pepper, turning to look at her. Pepper tucks a strand of brown hair behind May’s ear as she looks into May’s eyes. Pepper can tell she’s nervous and scared to show it, “you did. Many, many, times but i’m here, so it’ll be okay and if not then there’s always a hotel.” May leans into her and Pepper places a soft kiss onto her forehead, May smiles.

After an hour of catching up, Natasha and Yelena retreat to their room, they already had dinner and May felt bad for keeping Pepper all cooped up in her room. It’s after eight pm when they ascend down to the kitchen, May heats up whatever leftovers the family had for dinner as Pepper grabs two sodas from the fridge. A light flickers on and they freeze in place. “If you were hungry you could’ve just came down for dinner like everyone else, May.”

May curses under her breath, “hi, mom.” A fake smile flashes across her face and Pepper knows this because May’s real, genuine, smile causing those cute dimples that she loves so much. “And you must be Pepper, hi i’m Claire Parker. It’s so nice to meet one of May’s friends other than that Stark boy.”

Pepper shakes her hand, “yeah, Tony can be a bit of a handful.”

May takes out their leftovers from the microwave when it beeps, grabs two forks and walks past her mother, “actually, Pepper and I are together, you know like Natasha and Yelena, except without the rings.” An expression flashes across Claire’s face that neither Pepper nor May can read.

“Oh, okay. You gals have fun. I’m just going to make some tea,” Claire says as she turns on the stove, boiling water in the teapot. May lets out a deep breath, she clenches her fist in her free hand not holding the takeout and forks. “I don’t know what century you’re in but, no one says gal pals anymore, and it’s quite an out of date term and i’m not sure you think you’re saying it correctly.”

Claire gives May a confused expression, “of course, I am. You’re girlfriends.”

Pepper now understands why May didn’t want to come home, she’s also feeling a tad bit uncomfortable as the tension in the room has reached a higher level. May is resisting the urge to slap herself across the face, how was she related to this person.

“No, mom, I-“ May pauses. She mumbles ‘fuck it’ under her breath and licks her lips. “Pepper and I are together as in we kiss and have sex and go on dates like everyone else. The same way as you and dad do. The same why Natasha and Yelena do, it’s normal.”

Claire’s face is as white as a ghost and she doesn’t say anything for a solid minute which means it’s a good time to run upstairs and eat, and they do exactly that. May and Pepper climb the insane amount of stairs back to May’s room, sit on the couch by the window and eat as they look out the window at the stars. It’s silent for a moment, they’re eating as May’s record player is quietly blasting a spice girls record.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Pepper says once the silence got enough for her, she looks up from her container of food to see May smiling. “I didn’t think I would do it but it just got so frustrating. We can leave tomorrow if you want, i’m sure I can get Natasha and Yelena on board.”

“Don’t you have family staying over the weekend?” Pepper questions as she snatches an egg roll out of May’s takeout dish. May gasps and shrugs it off, it’s only food.

“Yeah, I haven’t seen most of them since last break, but i’d rather just spend it with Natasha and you.”

Pepper looks up at May after taking a bite of her egg roll, “I’m in, whatever it is you want to do.” May cheeks turn a light shade of pink and she smiles. She smiles the real, genuine one, cute dimples and all, that makes Pepper’s heart beat fast in her chest, it echos in her ears.

“Thank you. I appreciate it,” May puts her now empty container onto the coffee table, she sits in a criss cross position and leans forward towards Pepper. “Tell me something about you. I want to know everything.”

Pepper tilted her head, pausing for a moment to think, “I wanted to be a vet when I was younger. I loved animals, still do, so much until I realized going to school for almost seven years seemed too excessive.” May smiled at the thought of Pepper being a vet, helping animals, making sure they’re happy and healthy.

“That’s cute. I always knew I wanted to do something with my love of books, whether I decide to become a writer or open up my own bookstore, it’s where I truly feel like myself, when I’m surrounded by books and of course, Milo.”

Pepper rests her chin in her hand, she looks at May as she talks about her love for books and writing and what she could do. She notices that May talks with her hands a lot, they’re constantly moving in different directions when she speaks, making her point across. Pepper also notices there’s a tiny twinkle in her eyes when she talks about anything she loves and Pepper decides right then and there that she has moved from the like stage of their relationship to love, and it was going to be difficult.

May lets out a yawn, breaking Pepper’s train of thought. She gets up from her seat, shuts the record player off and grabs a pair of pajamas from the wardrobe. She changes into them, not caring if Pepper sees, they already had sex. May lazily braids her hair as Pepper changes into her own pajamas.

Pepper’s flannel pajama set is far more gracious looking than May’s old Beatles shirt and some boxers. They throw out the empty containers, shut the lights off, and are immersed in the softness of the sheets and comforter. May turns on her side, she pulls the comforter up to her chest, and faces Pepper. The blonde imitates her, they stare at each other as the moonlight shines through the window onto their face. May’s tongue pokes out, wetting her lips, before whispering, “Did you know that the moon is a lesbian?”

Pepper covers her mouth with her hand as she laughs. She takes a brief pause to collect her breath. “Are you serious, who told you?”

May raises her eyebrows, “Um, everyone knows. The moon and the sun are lesbians, they’re together.” Pepper nods her head, “yes, what was I thinking? They definitely are.” She didn’t know much about the moon and sun, even the stars, but what she did know was that May was very enthusiastic about the moon being a lesbian and Pepper didn’t have the heart to tell her what she thought of it.

“It’s just a theory, I’ll let you sleep on it.” May says before giving Pepper a sweet, soft, kiss and turning the other way to get some sleep. Pepper freezes, she didn’t expect that at all. She mumbles out, “Night, May.”

The bedroom door barges open, it smacks against the wall. May instinctively sits upright in bed, her hair is disheveled and eyes are still closed, and Pepper is still soundly sleeping.

“What,” May mumbles out, eyes still closed, her voice is hoarse.

“Breakfast is ready,” Natasha says as she leans her back on the doorway frame “I’m not leaving until you get up.”

May lets out a groan, she runs a hand through her hair and gets up quietly from the bed without waking Pepper. She takes one last look at the sleeping blonde and follows Natasha down the stairs. It’s suspiciously quiet for a Saturday morning in the Parker household, besides the tv in the next room playing the news on blast, it made May feel a little on edge. She rubs the sleep out of her eyes as Natasha immediately grabs the already made coffee pot and sits in the empty chair next to Yelena.

Natasha hands May a mug, she pours the steaming dark goodness into it, adding a touch of creamer and sugar before taking a sip and letting out a content sigh. There’s a variety of breakfast foods scattered along the island table. Eggs, pancakes, bacon, and toast. Even some boxes of cereal and bowls of fruit.

May rolled her eyes, her parents always go all out when they get together and there was only eight of them currently in the house. Three of said eight were currently sleeping. Claire hasn’t even acknowledged May’s presence yet, occasionally sipping her coffee and looking over at the newspaper her dad was currently reading. May let out a huff and piled some of everything onto a platter, she grabbed a glass from the cabinet, filled it with orange juice and set it onto the tray. She lifted it up and began to walk back upstairs to her bedroom.

“Where are you going?” Claire called out. May bit the inside of her cheek.

“Upstairs. Pepper’s still sleeping, so I thought I would surprise her with breakfast in bed or is it mandatory to eat in the kitchen now?”

“That’s very sweet, kiddo,” May’s dad, Ed, said as he licked his finger and turned a page in the paper. A half smile appeared on May’s face, she ascended up the stairs when no one objected, though May knew as soon as her back was turned her mother had a stern look on her face.

Natasha and Yelena sat quietly watching May walk up the stairs. Yelena gave Nat a look, almost asking if we should follow but Natasha shakes her head. She broke off a piece of pancake, dipped it in syrup and took a bite. Yelena craned her neck to look at May’s mother, she felt a sense of uneasiness but discarded it when Natasha threw a berry at her.

“Why?” Yelena asked when Natasha threw a second berry.

“Because I wanted too,” Natasha argued back, instead of throwing another fruit, she popped it into her mouth. Yelena stared at her, her nose scrunching up.

“If you keep doing that i’m going to kiss you,” Natasha said as she scooted closer to Yelena, her arm rested on the back of Yelena’s chair. Yelena moved closer, she reached over to wrap an arm around Natasha but moved it at the last second to grab a strawberry off her plate. Natasha let out a small fake gasp before smiling, she knew what Yelena was going to do before she even did it. It was a little thing that Yelena loved, like Natasha was part witch or something, she had a sixth sense.

“No PDA in the kitchen please,” Ed said without even looking up from his newspaper as he did the crossword of the day. Natasha rolled her eyes, “we weren’t doing anything, uncle Ed.”

“Oh, I know, but who knows what happens after the kitchen gets covered in fruit, I definitely don’t.” Natasha let out a chuckle. She cups Yelena’s face with her hand and gives her an eskimo kiss, Yelena lets out a giggle.

May shuts the door quietly behind her as she places the tray of food onto the table. She walks over to Pepper’s side of the bed and places a kiss on her forehead, Pepper stirs and mumbles, “Why are you giving me kisses, no one’s around.” May chuckles, “that makes it even better.”

“I brought up breakfast since you wanted to sleep a little late.” May leaves Pepper’s side to bring the tray over onto the bed, Pepper is immediately woken up by the warm, delicious smells of food. Her stomach rubbles. “First of all,” she lets out a yawn. “You didn’t wake me up so don’t blame it on me, sweet cheeks.”

Pepper ties her messy bed hair into a ponytail as she sips her orange juice and cuts into her pancake. It’s covered in syrup and completely lathered in butter, just the way she likes it.

“What are we doing today?’ Pepper asks after she takes a bite. She pops a pre-cut strawberry into her mouth.

May takes a sip of her coffee. “I’m not sure, maybe we’ll go to a museum or just hang out.” Pepper nods her head. They sit in silence as Pepper eats her breakfast. Occasionally May will steal some fruit out of the bowl, earning a glare from the blonde. Pepper lets out a huff as she sits back, she’s content and in a slight food coma, it’s good though. May stares at her and raises an eyebrow in her direction before standing up, taking two long strides to the dresser and grabbing an outfit for the day.

“I’m heading to the shower,” May suggests as she walks towards the door, “unless you want to save time and water.” She raises both eyebrows up and down. A small smirk appears on Pepper’s face, she licks her lips.

“Love to, sweet cheeks. But, I’m afraid I can’t get up, due to the food coma that has overcome me. Raincheck?” A pout forms on May’s face, “okay.” And she’s out the door. Pepper lays her head back onto the pillows, closing her eyes as her nose scrunches up and a sigh escapes her lips.

“You should’ve went,” Natasha calls out.

Pepper looks up and sees Natasha with her arms crossed, hair braided, standing against the wall. She’s dressed like Lara Croft, black jeans and leather jacket. Pepper gets up from the warm, comfortable bed, to her suitcase, pulling out an outfit.

“It’ll be fine, I’ll make it up to her,” Pepper says as she stands awkwardly holding her clothes in her crossed arms.

“This has nothing to do with morning shower sex but please don’t hurt her. She can overthink anything and is a little fragile.”

“I won’t. You can count on me to pick up any broken pieces that have fallen,” Pepper swears as she places a hand on her chest. Natasha looks at her, almost stunned, maybe her little cousin finally found someone who equals her.

“Well we’re going to the museum today, because I don’t think anyone wants to be in this house right now,” Natasha nods her head and walks way, leaving Pepper alone to get dressed. She’s half naked in just her bra and pajama bottoms when May comes back into her room, towel wrapped around her body and her brown hair is dripping wet down her back.

“Oh,” May says as her cheeks flush, she shuts the door behind her. “I thought you were going to shower after me.”

Pepper shakes her head, “dry shampoo does wonders.” She chuckles. “I’ll do it tonight, you did say you wanted a raincheck.”

May does a double-take, “You’re right, I did say that.” She smirks as she pulls her jeans over her tan, skinny, legs.

“I always am,” A now dressed Pepper says as she runs a hand through her hair. She turns around to see May standing in front of her mirror, admiring herself. Pepper smiles as May turns around.

“Let’s go,” she says as she glides past Pepper and out the bedroom door.

The four of them exit Natasha’s car and head to the museum, it’s not as grand as the one in New York, it has its perks and small flaws. Natasha grabbed Yelena’s hand and drags her in the opposite direction May and Pepper are going. “We’ll see you at the gift shop later!” She called out over her shoulder. Yelena sent the two women a sympathetic smile.

May let out a groan, “of course she wouldn’t want to keep the buddy system in place.” She opened the museum map and began to walk towards the art section, Pepper followed.

“It’s alright. They just want to do their own thing. C’mon,” Pepper smiles as she links her arm around May’s. They’re standing in a gigantic room, paintings scatter the walls in various directions and Pepper’s eyes are immediately fixated on a flower portrait. She stand in front of it, her hand rests on her chin.

“Whatcha thinking about?” May asks as she slides next to Pepper, her eyes move back and forth from the painting to Pepper.

“The colors in this blend almost like a sunset. See here,” she points. “The way the purple moves into the blue then fades into green and so on so forth.” May nods her head. It’s this moment she really wished focused during art class she had to take as an elective.

“I take it you like art?” May asks as they move down the line of paintings, staying in sync with Pepper.

“Yes, very much.”

“God, you and Steve would get along so great,” May says drastically as she looks at the map.

“Why’s that?’ Pepper asked curiously. She tilted her head to the side.

“Because Steve’s an artist, or at least trying to become one. He’s fascinated by it to the point where his apartment is filled with paintings, old and new, unfinished and completed. It’s really remarkable to see someone with their life together and completely immersed in their work.” May frowns and shamelessly tilts her head down to the floor. She walks towards the next set of paintings. Pepper’s eyebrows furrow, she’s not sure how to respond to the truth hidden between the lines. She lets out a breath and follows May.

It’s quiet in the museum besides the soft, elegant, classical music playing throughout the room. May and Pepper don’t speak for a moment until they reach another exhibit, the statues. May’s demeanor has completely changed. She pulls out a camera that Pepper had no idea she brought with her. May ran over to an open bench and rolled back the camera. She disposed the film into it, slow and steady, and snapped it shut. The sound of the camera rolling film was pure, soothingness, to Pepper’s ears. It was equivalent to a wave coming to the shore or the sound of coffee pouring into a mug. With a content sigh, May looked up at Pepper and smiled.

May jumped up from the bench, rolling back and forth on the heels of her shoes. She ushers Pepper to stand by the statue. “Imitate it please.”

With her mouth now agape, Pepper drops her bag next to May and immediately does what she’s told. The statue’s arms are slightly crossed with one another and her head is tilted up, showing off her jawline and collarbones. Once Pepper is in position, May adjusts the zoom and clicks the shutter. “Nice,” May says as she rolls the film. “Come on.” Pepper blinks and nods her head, she grabs her bag and follows the petite brunette.

They spend the next forty minutes lost in one another’s presence and taking photos of the statues while also recreating some of them with the help of a very nice bystander. By the time they’re done, it’s time to meet Natasha and Yelena at the gift shop. Natasha is talking indistinctly to Yelena, May can see that Yelena has a bag of goodies, no doubt in her mind Natasha bought her it.

“Did you guts have a good time?” Yelena asks as she pulls her bag tighter around her shoulder and leans into Natasha.

Pepper nods her head, “Yes, I loved it.” She pauses to glance at May and clears her throat. “The art was beautiful, this was a lot of fun.”

A small smirk appears on Natasha’s face, “good. Let’s go.”

May lets out a groan, “Awe, come on. I don’t want to go home just yet.”

Natasha sighs, “you know we have to go back eventually. You can’t keep hiding in your room until you leave tomorrow night.”

“I can try,” May mutters under her breath as she follows them to the car. Pepper rubs May’s shoulder in a calmly manner.

“I heard that,” Natasha calls out over her shoulder. May rolls her eyes because of course Natasha did. She probably, no definitely, has a sixth sense, May thinks.

They’re back again in the driveway and May just wants to stay in the car. She hates confrontation and she knows it’s only going to get worse. Maybe she can leave early, she thought. No, that would do no one good. Natasha and Yelena exit the car and head towards the house when May pauses in her step before entering. Pepper’s next to her, holding her hand. Getting a weird sense of deja vu.

“It’s alright if you want to leave tonight instead of tomorrow.” Pepper looks at her with concern, her eyebrows furrow. May sighs and says nothing when they enter the warm house. Her mother has definitely been baking as the smell of chocolate and cinnamon flow throughout the house. There’s a roar of laugher coming from the living room.

Natasha takes a pause when she sees Melina and Alexei sitting on the couch with May’s dad. They’re in the middle of a game of chess and a bottle of bourbon has been opened, the bottle is empty halfway. “Um, hi,” Natasha says and their attention is immediately drawn from the chessboard to her.

“Natasha!” Melina says as she gets up from her seat to hug Natasha. Natasha doesn’t know if she should hug her back or remain stiff as a board. “I told you we would come. Hello Yelena.”

“Hello,” Yelena responds as she glances at Natasha. The expression on Natasha’s face is hard to read. Yelena doesn’t know if she should comfort or drag her away from the scene in front of them. Behind them, May and Pepper lean their heads in the room to see what the commotion is and May’s eyes widen. “Those are Natasha’s adopted parents,” she whispers to Pepper. Pepper nods her head. “We heard you were going to be here for the holidays so we thought we would surprise you,” Melina says as she glances back at Alexei, who is taking a gulp of his cold, bourbon, glass. Natasha swallows and clears her throat. “Not that I’m happy to see you, but you didn’t have to come here. We would be with you for the holidays anyway.”

Melina’s eyebrows furrow, “I thought you would be excited to see us. It’s our first Christmas here and it’s been so long since we saw our dear niece, May.” She pauses to look around for the brunette and her eyes land on May slowly sneaking upstairs with Pepper. “May!”

May sighs and turns back around with a smiles on her face, “Hi aunt Melina.” Melina embraces May and rubs her shoulders. “It’s so good to see you dear, how are you?”

May is taken back by the question. Ever since she arrived home, no one has asked her that and she is once again reminded why she likes Melina more than her own flesh and blood mom. May sniffles.

“I’m doing my best, aunt Melina. Um, this is Pepper, my girlfriend. Pepper, this is aunt Melina, Natasha’s mom.” May says as she glances at Natasha, who is sneaking away with Yelena to another room.

“Hi Pepper, it’s so good to meet you” Melina outstretches a hand to her. “How are you enjoying our cold weather? I bet it’s a bit upscale from New York.” Pepper softly shakes her hand, she brushes a strand of hair behind her ear.

“It’s definitely colder than New York but nothing I can’t handle. Actually, I quite like it.” Pepper says honestly. She doesn’t know where this sudden burst of confidence and truth came out. Maybe it has something to do with the way Melina does things and asks the right questions.

“That’s wonderful to hear. I can’t wait to tell you more once we have gotten settled,” Melina is interrupted by Alexei yelling at Ed, she rolls her eyes. “I have to go calm him down before things get out of hand again. I’ll see you girls later.” As quickly as she came to them, Melina is next to Alexei, rubbing his arm calmly.

May exhales, “there, you met Melina. I think that’s everyone besides by brother and sister who,” May pauses for a second to overlook the living room and part of the kitchen, “who, aren’t even here.” May rubs a hand over her face, she was starting to get tired of her family.

“If my mom and I don’t make up tonight then we’re hopping on the first plane out, is that alright with you?” May asks Pepper, she looks up at her, there’s almost tears in May’s eyes.

“Come on,” Pepper says as she grabs May’s hand. Together they walk up the stairs to May’s room and shut the door. Both of them let out a gasp when they see Natasha and Yelena sitting on the couch.

“I thought you guys were still downstairs,” May questions as she sits on the bed, Pepper following.

“How did you forget your house has more than one set of staircase in it? It truly baffles me that i’m here more than you are,” Natasha says as she plays with Yelena’s hand, instinctively drawing circles on it.

“Yeah, well, don’t take that as a compliment or let it go straight to your head,” May argues back. She leans her head back onto the pillows.

“Do you want to tell or should I?” Pepper whispers. May turns her head towards her, “No, I can”

“Anything you’d like to share with the class, Parker?” Natasha says with an eyebrow raised.

“If mom and I don’t make up tonight, we’re leaving,” May says calmly as she intertwines a finger with Pepper’s, locking it together. Yelena’s eyebrows raise and she cranes her neck to look at Natasha.

“Are you sure?” Natasha asks in a concerning voice, surprising May.

“Yeah. I’m tired of it, I just want to go home, be in my bed and see Milo. I knew I should’ve gone to Tony's.” May angrily says as she hits her head back down onto the soft pillows.

Yelena was about to open her mouth but Natasha beat her to it, “Milo is her cat.” Yelena nods her head and closes her mouth, smiling.

“We have a cat too. A white cat named Luna,” Yelena says smiling.

“She hates me,” Natasha says with a straight face.

“No, she doesn’t,” Yelena looks at her defensively as Natasha rolls her eyes.

“Awe, we can have cat playdates,” May says grinning and definitely doesn’t miss the awful, horrid, look flashing across Natasha’s face.

Yelena laughs. “I’m so down for that. We need to set up at date.”

“No.” Natasha immediately says.

“Yes.”

May clears her throat, “can I just ask-“

“No,” Natasha says once again. “We’re not talking about why they’re here. I have no idea. I didn’t ask them, neither did Yelena.”

May nods her head, “okay, good.”

“Good,” Natasha repeats as she rubs a hand across her forehead, trying to relieve the sudden tension she had.

There’s a knock on May’s door.

“Yeah?” May calls out.

Ed pokes his head in with his eyes closed when he opens the door, “is everyone decent?”

Natasha chuckles, “yes, uncle Ed.”

“Oh, good,” Ed opens his eyes. “Dinner’s ready.” He turns to head back down the stairs before pausing to turn back to May.

“May, it’s okay with me if you want to go back to New York. I know you’ve only been here a short time but, it was nice to have you back home, kiddo.” He smiles and trudges down the staircase. May sighs and thinks to herself, he’s definitely a spy or has cameras everywhere.

Dinner that evening is quiet, the tension in the air is thick. Melina helped Claire make pasta, even their homemade sauce. It was delicious and very comforting. Alexei and Ed talked amongst themselves, discussing various things from cars to the economy. The girls sit at the booth, Natasha and Yelena sat in during breakfast, while the other adults claimed the island.

Melina, who sat the closest to them, turned in her seat. “So Pepper,” Pepper pauses, her forkful of penne froze midair. “How did you meet May?” May glances at Pepper.

Pepper places her fork back into her bowl, “we met through Tony, one of May’s closest friends. He introduced us and the rest was history.” Pepper smiles.

Melina nods her head, “very cute. Tony as in Tony Stark?”

“Yes,” May says this time, allowing Pepper to continue to eat her pasta. “You met him, I think, last year when we came over for Christmas. It was the year Natasha got sick.”

Melina’s face lit up, “yes! I remember, he was very sweet. He helped me bake cookies and talked about a boy named Steve, whom he had a crush on.”

May smiled, “they’re together now. They’re disgustingly adorable.” May sticks her tongue out before taking a bite of bread.

“That makes me so happy to hear! Alexei, dear."

Alexei pauses his conversation with Ed and focuses his attention on his wife, “yeah?”

“You remember last Christmas when May brought home her friend Tony?”

Alexei face also lights up, “of course! I told him he needed to grow more, he’s uncomfortably short for his age. How is he doing May?” He cranes his neck to look at May from over Melina’s shoulder.

“He’s doing very well, he’s trying to get into business while working part-time at a garage. And as I told Melina, he’s with Steve now. I think they’re going on almost a year together, right, Pepper?” Pepper nods her head.

“Get outta here!” Alexei exclaims. “That’s wonderful. Please tell him I wish him all the best, I hope one day we can meet Steve.”

“I’ll pass it along, uncle Alexei. You can count on me,” May says smiling as she takes a sip of water. She glances up at Natasha and Yelena who can sense a relief coming from May, more like a breath of fresh air. It’s extremely comforting for all of them in their little booth.

A pair of utensils clattering onto a plate makes everyone jump in their seats, except for Ed, who continues eating and is definitely used to this annoying behavior from his wife by now. Claire stands up, her chair screeches on the hardwood floor, she puts her dish into the sink and heads towards the living room. The tv echos throughout the first floor of the house.

Ed lets out a heavy sigh and excuses himself from the kitchen, he follows in his wife’s footsteps while absentmindedly scratching the back of his neck. Melina and Alexei side eye one another before they continue eating, occasionally grabbing more bread from the bowl.

May lets out a puff of hair, a strand of hair blows. She pushes her pasta bowl away from her and crosses her arms over her chest. Natasha looks at her sympathetically, she reaches across the table, palm facing up. May looks at it before putting her own hand on top, Natasha rubs her hand with her thumb, in a circling motion. Pepper leans over and places a kiss on May’s temple.

“If you want to go, we can go,” Pepper whispers. May nods her head and gets up from her seat, she takes the semi-empty bowls to the sink. As she pushes back her hair from her face and ties it onto a low ponytail, she turns back to Melina and Alexei.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t spend more time together. I hope you’ll come to New York soon and we can do something, maybe i’ll cook and bust out the card games,” May says as she laughs uncomfortably.

Melina nods her head, “I would love that May, thank you. Definitely stock up on beer for this guy,” she nudges Alexei who raises his glass.

“I’ll keep my schedule open,” May responds before signaling the girls to head upstairs. They pause in their steps when yelling is louder than the tv.

“I don’t want to hear it Claire. I’m tired of it and getting annoyed every second,” Ed exclaims.

“You’re tired of it? Tired of what exactly, me telling you how I feel?” Claire says back, hostile as usual. May rolls her eyes.

“Tired of you treating May and your niece like this,” Ed gestures his hands out. “Like they’re not human beings, they are, and one of them is your flesh and blood. Have you even talked to Pepper since she’s been here, besides the hello from yesterday? Cause I have. She’s incredibly smart and I can see how much our May means to her.” Ed argues back.

May looks at Pepper, who’s eyebrows are furrow. Pepper may have forgot to mention that she did talk to Ed when she came down for lunch. May grabs her hand and kisses her knuckle. Natasha and Yelena continue up the stairs while Pepper and May linger for a minute.

“Change our attitude and mindset, even the way you treat everyone in this house. I’m sleeping in the guest room for the time being.” It’s quiet for a moment until Ed’s footsteps are being heard and he’s standing on the bottom step of the stairs, looking up at May and Pepper. A smile appears on his face and he puts a hand on May’s shoulder, rubbing it in a comfortingly. The three of them head upstairs, Pepper continues walking while May and Ed stop at the landing.

“Have a safe flight, kiddo. Please call me when you get home.”

“Will do, dad. And, um, thank you. You didn’t have to do that,” May says when Ed pulls her into a hug. She feels a little uncomfortable with the sudden affection, something she’s not used to since she was a child. She hugs him back, wrapping her arms around his torso. He pulls away after a full minute.

“Remember what I said,” Ed says while pointing at her, smiling, and enters the guest bedroom. May chuckles and throws her arms up in the arm and brings them back down while letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding it.

May enters her room when Pepper is packing her suitcase, she’s folding her clothes neatly, making sure they fit perfectly. “You know the t.s.a agents don’t credit you for how well you pack your suitcase?”

Pepper chuckles, “is it a crime to have everything neat for when I unpack at home? No.” May shakes her head and starts packing.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that I talked to your dad while I had lunch and you were with Natasha. It slipped my mind,” Pepper confesses while looking at May throwing her clothes into her suitcase.

“It’s okay, you don’t need my permission to talk to anyone. I appreciate you talking to him. Please tell me he didn’t dive into his dad talk or completely overshare about my childhood,” May pleads as she holds her hands together, praying. Pepper smiles, “Yes, he talked about you but, nothing bad I promise.”

May smiles as she zips her suitcase shut. She reaches down to grab her carryon and puts her necessary items in it, including the book she wanted to read but never got the chance to. Pepper puts her coat on, not caring that the outfit she wore, a pair of leggings and a hoodie, didn’t match. She lifts her hair that got stuck under the collar and turns to May. “Ready?”

May has her coat on and throws her carryon over her shoulder. “As I’ll ever be.” They walk down the stairs, suitcases in tow.

“Hey, wait, who bought our plane tickets?” May asks with an eyebrow raise.

“Your dad,” Pepper says enthusiastically as she looks at her feet, worrying she might tumble down the flight of stairs.

May smiles and mumbles, ‘of course’ under her breath.

At the bottom of the stairs is Melina and Alexei, they embrace the two girls in hugs. May promises Melina she’ll call her when they get home to arrange when they can get together, because let’s face it, they need a redo of this Christmas break.

As they head out the door, Claire gives them no attention, her sole focus is the reruns of criminal minds. Pepper shakes her head. Natasha opens her trunk and helps them put the suitcases in it. The door closes shut and they’re in the car. Natasha starts the engine and before she can pull out of the driveway, Ed comes out of the house, yelling, “wait!”

May rolls down her window, “yeah, dad?”

Ed stops in front, pausing to catch his breathe even though the distance between the front door and driveway was no longer than eight feet.

“This is for you,” he hands her a present wrapped in red paper and a bow on top, “Merry early Christmas, May.” He smiles. May’s eyes widen and her eyebrows raise high enough that she has lines on her forehead. “Open it when you get home or even at the airport,” Ed says before sending May one last smile and running back into the house.

“What was that about?” Natasha asks as she looks into the mirror, pulling out of the driveway.

“A present,” May says smiling as she rubs her hands over the wrapping paper.

“Great, so you get one early while we have to wait until tomorrow,” Natasha says sarcastically as she turns right.

“Are you going to open it?” Yelena asks May, turning in her seat.

“Later, I will,” May replies as she glances at Pepper.

Natasha puts the car in park when they arrive at the airport. There’s a sudden realization between the four of them that this could be the last time they see one another, until Natasha’s wedding, at least. Natasha doesn’t say anything when she exits the car and pops the trunk open for May and Pepper to grab their luggage.

May sets her luggage on the concrete and immediately grabs Natasha in for a hug, the redhead instinctively wraps her arms around May’s petite form. She buries her head in May’s neck.

“You know you’re my maid of honor, right?” Natasha mumbles against May’s neck and May lets out a sob and laughs.

“Of course, I know. Who else puts up with your shit?” This time Natasha laughs, a real genuine one. They pull away slowly and dry their tears with the end of their jackets and laugh. “Promise to call me?” Natasha says as she extends out her pinky finger. May nods her head and wraps her own finger around Natasha’s, they shake. May turns her head to see Pepper and Yelena exchanging numbers and talking quietly amongst themselves.

“She’s a good one, I hope you keep her,” Natasha nods her head in Pepper’s direction. May licks her lips and smiles, “I plan too.”

May waves over to Pepper, “we better get going.” Pepper nods her head. “It was nice to meet you Yelena. I hope you know you have a long road ahead with this one” May nudges Natasha’s arm. Natasha glares at her.

“Oh, I know. I’ll enjoy it,” Yelena says with a grin on her face.

“And that’s our cue to go. Goodbye, I love you,” May exclaims as she blows the two of them a kiss. Natasha imitates her before pulling out of the spot.

“You ready?” Pepper says once she’s next to May at the check-in line. She instinctively reaches out for May’s hand and intertwines their hands together.

“Yes,” May says without a beat. She kisses Pepper’s knuckle and they’re off back to New York.

It’s only nine-thirty when they’re in a taxi headed out of the city when May begins to question where they’re going. She does a double take before asking Pepper, the right and only question, “Where are we going?” To which Pepper responds with, “just relax and you’ll see when we get there.” May sighs and leans her head against the headrest, she slowly begins to drift off. With the day she had she at least deserved some sleep. Another thirty minutes pass and May is awaken by the car door shutting, she jumps in her seat and rubs her sleepy eyes. Pepper opens the door for her and unbuckles her seatbelt. May feels like a little kid when her parents used to wake her up after a long car ride and carry her into the house. No way is she allowing Pepper to carry her. “I’m alright,” she says once she gets her bearings. Pepper nods her head.

“C’mon, I’m sure they’ll want to see you,” Pepper says as she hands both of their luggage to a man at the front steps. May raises an eyebrow when she steps out of the taxi, she’s about to pay the driver when Jarvis steps up to do it for them. May’s eyes widened. She wants to squeal but she knows it’s late and she definitely didn’t want to wake up the whole neighborhood. Jarvis turns to face them when the driver pulls away from the sidewalk.

“Good evening miss Parker,” Jarvis says in his wonderful British tone that May absolutely adores every time she hears it. May is hugging Jarvis faster than Pepper can blink. The tall man smiles and imitates her, wrapping an arm around her neck. May breathes in his scent, a smell of cherries and a hint of scotch. They pull away and walk in arm and arm towards the house, Pepper follows closely behind, smiling to herself.

“I’ll have you know miss Parker that I have missed our weekly board games. I can play a mean game of poker.”

“Oh, don’t I know it, J. You always beat me but, never at checkers. That’s my speciality.” May says as she winks back at Pepper.

Pepper’s never been inside the Stark family home before and it’s much more beautiful than she imagined. It’s like it was taken straight out of a renaissance painting and fused with modern elements.

“Beautiful, is it not?” Jarvis says, breaking Pepper’s train of thought.

She clears her throat. “Yes, it is.” She extends a hand out to him. “I’m Pepper Potts, we spoke on the phone.”

“Yes, of course, miss Potts. It’s wonderful to finally meet you.” Jarvis shakes her hand before reaching over to grab the phone.

“Tony, you have company. Can you and mister Rogers please come down.” Jarvis nods his head and hangs up. He turns to the girls. “Would any of you like some tea? We have every kind.”

“Yes!” May exclaims as she follows Jarvis to the kitchen, dragging along Pepper. “Jarvis makes the best tea, you’ll love it.”

“I’m sure I will,” Pepper responds with a smile on her face.

Jarvis starts up the teapot by pouring water into it and setting it onto the stove, igniting it. He takes two tea cups and sets them next to the stove, a teabags in each. As the teapot heats up and begins to whistle, Tony and Steve enter the kitchen. Tony’s eyes widen as he runs to them, hugging both of them tightly. Steve smiles with his arms crossed against his chest.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were home,” Tony questions May, a concerned look plasters his face. He rubs her shoulder in a comforting manner.

“Not now okay? They just got here,” Jarvis says suddenly when he pours, now four cups of tea.

“Yes, sir,” Tony says as he sits next down to May.

Jarvis adds honey to every cup and slides one to each of them. “There are some lemon squares on the counter, feel free to take as much as you like. Tony, mister Rogers, miss Parker, and miss Potts, it’s been a pleasure. I bid you all a goodnight.”

“Thank you, Jarvis” They all say in unison, and that makes Jarvis grin.

Steve slides in next to Pepper, he blows on his cup of tea before taking a sip of it. “Thank you for calling me. He was getting worried about the two of you going to May’s home. I’m glad you cut it short.”

“Anytime, Steve. I mean it. I should be the one thanking you, not the other way around.”

“I’ll take you up on that anytime, starting now,” Steve lets out a chuckle.

“How was your weekend before we crashed yours? Sorry,” Pepper says shamefully as she sips her tea.

“It’s been great, Tony’s parents aren’t home and—“ Pepper raises and eyebrow and smirks. “hey! None of that.” Pepper chuckles. “Anyway, it’s been really good getting to know Jarvis. He’s really the best, I finally see what Tony’s been talking about all this time.”

“That’s really great, Steve. You got the approval of the highest person on Tony’s list of who he truly cares about. The second being you, then May and me.” Steve smiles bashfully.

“Thanks, Pepper. I appreciate it.”

“Hey,” Tony suddenly says making Pepper and Steve look in his direction. “What are you two talking about that’s making Steve go as red and hot as his tea?” Steve chuckles.

“Nothing that concerns you, sweetheart.”

“Oh, god,” May gags before taking a bite of a lemon bar.

“Oh, shut up Parker, you’re much worse.” Tony says as he drinks his tea in slight disgust. Tony wouldn’t dare say he hates it because he does. He just couldn’t live with himself to see the look on Steve’s face when he disappoints him.

“You got me there,” May mumbles through the lemon bar and holds up a pair of finger guns. She chuckles. Tony sets his cup down on the counter.

“Okay, lay it on me. We have plenty of time.” Tony rests an arm on the counter, his head lay in his comfortably in his palm. He looks up at her with eyebrows raised and a concern look. May sighs heavily. “First, Natasha’s getting married.”

Tony’s eyes widen. “I thought she was divorced?”

“She is. Now, she’s engaged to Yelena, who is just wonderful. You’ll love her, she’s so sweet.”

Tony’s mouth is agape with a grin on his face. “To a woman?! Why didn’t you lead with that! That’s great.”

“It is. I’ve never seen her so happy before, it was relieving.”

“Okay, so that’s the good news. What’s the bad?” Tony’s face is all serious. The grin from before is replaced with a stern look. May wets her lips and stops herself from looking anywhere but Tony’s face. “Um,” she pauses, moving a strand of hair out of her face. “My mom doesn’t approve.” May lets out a dry laugh. Tony immediately pulls her into his arms, wrapping his arms around her frame. He comforted her in the same way Jarvis had did when his own father didn’t approve of him being with Steve. Tony felt May’s tears soak his shirt as she sobbed into his arms, clenching his shirt in her fists. A wave of anger washed over his face as he looked up to Pepper and Steve sitting quietly, letting them have their moment. One look at Tony and Steve knew, of course he knew. How could he not? It was the exact same face Steve made when Tony told Howard. They understood one another. Pepper began to rub May’s back gently, she let out a sigh. None of them moved for a solid seven minutes, occasionally drinking their tea in silence. Tony held his breath when May lifted her head off of his tear stained shoulder, she sniffled.

“Sorry, about your shirt,” she rubbed her nose on her sleeve and wiped her eyes.

Tony chuckled, “it’s okay. I have plenty of shirts.” He tilted his head to the left and raised an eyebrow. “You okay?”

“Yeah, eventually.” May let out a breathy laugh. “Thanks for that, I needed a good cry.”

“Don’t we all.”

Tony reaches over and grabs a lemon bar. He takes a bite of one and looks at Steve. “Ready for bed?” Steve nods his head and puts his cup into the sink and rises it out.

“Ladies, we’ll see you in the morning. Jarvis is making his special pancakes.” Tony beamed as he wraps and arm around Steve, slowly leaving the kitchen.

“You must be exhausted, baby.” Pepper gently says as she moves a strand of hair out of May’s face and places a kiss to her temple. May blushes at the nickname, she always does, as she ponders saying something but stops when she instinctively leans into Pepper.

“C’mon, let’s get to bed. We’ve had a long, tiring, day.”

May nods her head. She slides her empty cup over to Pepper who gracefully takes both and puts them into the sink next to Steve’s.

Arm in arm they walk up the mahogany staircase. Steve had told Pepper that they would be staying in the guest room across from Tony’s. May flops down on the soft duvet, too lazy and drained to change into her pajamas. Pepper looks around the room and notices their luggage is stacked neatly by the door, along with an adjoined bathroom.

“You lay there. I’m gonna get changed, okay?” Pepper tells May as she grabs her change of clothes. Before entering the bathroom she turns to see May lift up a thumbs up. Pepper chuckles. Not even four minutes later, Pepper is changed and much more comfortable, she sees May completely passed out on the bed. Pepper shakes her head and smiles. Slowly but carefully, without waking May, she moves her under the covers. Pepper slides in next to her and wraps an arm around May’s chest, kissing her forehead. Matching May’s breathing, she slowly begins to fall asleep.

May wakes up from the best sleep of her life, the kind of sleep that gives you lines on your arms when you wake up. She lets out a content sigh and rubs her eyes. She feels a weight on her chest and looks down to see Pepper sleeping soundly on her. May smiles. She slowly moves out from under Pepper and stretches her legs, arms and back until she hears her a cracking sound that is slightly satisfying to her ears. May heads to the bathroom quietly, without waking Pepper, and does her business before hearing a faint tapping on the bedroom door. With an eyebrow raise, May opens the door just a crack and fights the urge to let out a scream when Tony’s head peeks in. She glares at him and flicks him in the forehead, Tony’s not phased by it at all.

“Jarvis has breakfast ready, come on.”

May nods her head, feeling a bit fatigued after yesterday's unfortunate events, she rushes over to a sleeping soundly Pepper. She brushes the hair out of Pepper’s eyes as the blonde lets out a content sigh and blinks repeatedly.

“Good morning, sleepy head. Jarvis has breakfast ready, you hungry?” May asks as she slowly removes the covers from Pepper’s body.

“Starving, but I’m not imposed to staying here all day.” Pepper raises an eyebrow.

May bites her lip. “Tempting but, i’ve been craving Jarvis’ chocolate chip pancakes since we got here last night.”

Pepper hangs her head low, “It was worth a shot. Lead the way your majesty.” She bows ever so slightly before May grabs her arm, pulling her off the soft bed and into the hallway where Tony and Steve are still standing. Pepper laughs.

“Dear god, another minute and we would’ve left your ass in the dust.” Tony joked as Steve nudges him making Tony yelp out an ‘ow.’

Tony gawks at Steve. “You’re just pure muscle, aren’t you?”

Steve rolls his eyes as a sly smirk appears on his face. “Oh, shush. You love it.”

Tony blinks repeatedly and moves to kiss Steve. He pauses in his step when May lets out a barf sound, their eyes immediately glare at her.

“Can we please go eat now?” May pleads. She clasps her hands together, begging. Tony sighs as he puts an arm out, gesturing May and Pepper to head down the stairs towards the kitchen.

“Yes!” May exclaims and grabs Pepper’s arm dragging her down the stairs, semi tripping in the process. Steve chuckles.

The kitchen smells like a bakery, a heavenly, beautiful bakery. There’s plates of eggs, bacon, sausages and chocolate chips pancakes. Amongst the food is orange juice and of course, coffee and tea. Jarvis is mid pouring coffee into a mug when the four of them come in and sit at the island. A ear to ear grin flashes across his face. “Good morning, and Merry Christmas!”

A flash of confusion is on May’s face, she cups her face with her hands and gasps. “Holy shit I forgot.”

Pepper rubs May’s arm, “it’s okay. Yesterday was chaotic.”

“After breakfast, we’ll open gifts. Tony, your parents left gifts out before they left. I think it would be wise to at least call them for this occasion.” Jarvis says sternly, looking Tony in the eyes. Tony lets out a groan.

“I’ll do it later, J. I promise.” Jarvis nods his head, gesturing everyone to begin eating.

May immediately grabs a plate and takes a stack of pancakes. She adds a dab of butter and a lot of syrup and lets out a heavenly sigh when she takes a bite. May looks up at Jarvis. Pepper smiles, a giggle escapes her lips.

“Jarvis I want these pancakes every time I come here, you hear me?” May says as she raises a forkful of pancake in the air and into her mouth.

“As you wish, miss Parker.

May lets out a gasp, “Nice Princess Bride reference there, J.” May smirks.

Jarvis hides the smile across his face by taking a sip of his coffee. Tony shakes his head and whispers something to Steve that May, nor Pepper can hear, which results in Steve chuckling as he eats his scrambled eggs. Tony takes a sip of coffee and places his cup back down on the marble countertop.

“After gifts I assume you’ll be heading back to the city?” He questions, looking to Pepper, who is smearing butter onto a piece of toast.

“Yes?” Pepper questions as she side eyes May who nods her head. “Yes.” She repeats, more clear this time.

“Good. So are we. You’ll come back with us.” Tony grins, not missing the sudden death glare on May’s face. “Oh, cheer up, May. It’ll be fun.” May shrugs her shoulders.

Once everyone has eaten a little bit of everything, they graciously help Jarvis clean up and head to the living room with the biggest Christmas tree. Tony opens his gifts from his parents, from Maria, a record vinyl, and a watch from Howard. Tony shakes his head as he tosses both aside. Both gifts he had gotten from the previous Stark Christmas gathering.

Tony’s mood is instantly changed when Steve opens his gift from him. He takes a polaroid of Steve as he opens the blue wrapped box, inside it is multiple paint sets. Steve knows it’s the expensive one he’s been saving up for but he doesn’t care about that at all right now. He leans in to give Tony a kiss that Tony happily obliges with, wrapping a hand around his neck, deepening it. Jarvis lets out a cough before either of them can continue their PG-13 film.

Steve turns red, blush forming from his cheeks down his neck, while Tony shamelessly rubs the back of his neck. Tony gestures for May to open her gift, the one her father gave her before they left. It’s wrapped neatly with a red bow around it, and it’s a little on the lighter side. May untangles the bow and sets it off the the side. She lifts the cover of the medium size box to see a second box inside, it’s smaller and wrapped in tissue paper.

May’s eyebrows furrow as she rips the tissue paper off, throwing it into the previous box. She opens the box to see a folded up letter and a silver chain with a locket and ring around it. She gasps at the coldness and initials written on the locket; E.P. It also smells very old, like the smell of old books or an antique shop. Setting the necklace back down in the box, May opens the folded letter and the first thing she notices is that it's in her father’s handwriting.

‘May,

This necklace belonged to your grandmother, my mother, Edith Parker. You know for a long time she was with grandpa Parker but that wasn’t her first love. Her first love and other woman in the locket is Sophie. As for the ring, it was Edith’s. Sophie gave it to her and she wore it everyday around her neck hidden.’

May does a double-take, her mouth agape, and continues to read.

‘I’ve known Sophie all my life, you would’ve loved her my dear, May. and be absolutely enchanted by all the stories and special moments she would tell you one on one. I have other items from their time together, a box of trinkets and letters in a box, hidden, of course. Your grandmother asked me to pass this down to you when it was time and I think right now is a good one. I’m sorry, I have to give you this when you’re not here in front of me. I hope it puts a smile on your face. I love you. Happy Holidays. — Dad’

May doesn’t know how to react other than with tear-filled eyes. She smiles, a real genuine one, dimples and all. She gently holds the necklace in her hands afraid it might break, as she opens the locket and low and behold, two photos on equal sides of the locket are Edith and Sophie. May sighs, she rubs her thumb over the photos. She can see a little resemblance of herself in her grandmother. Her eyes advert to the ring, a silver thin band with multiple roses on it. Upon a closer look May notices their initials are engraved in it as well. She decides to leave it with the locket as intended. As May unclasps the necklace, Pepper is next to her, moving May’s hair onto one side of her frame.

“Let me,” Pepper whispers. May nods her head.

Pepper dangles the necklace around May’s neck, goosebumps arise on her skin. Pepper’s hands are shaking slightly, she doesn’t know when the sudden nervousness started. Probably when she realized she’s completely in love with May Parker and everything in her body is telling her this a red flag because there’s no way this angel sent from heaven likes, hell, loves her back. None of the less, Pepper shakes her head, clearing the thoughts, she fastens the necklace clip and pulls May’s hair back around her neck. May looks down at the necklace, and turns looking up at Pepper. “Thank you,” May whispers. “It’s beautiful.”

“You’re welcome. And yes, it is,” Pepper says quietly, heart thumping in her chest, as she looks at May. May looks into Pepper’s eyes, her eyes widen, almost as if a light bulb went off in her head. She gasps quietly and excuses herself from the group. Pepper’s eyes follow her. “I’ll be right back.”

Tony claps his hands. “Shall we continue? Jarvis, this one’s for you.” Tony hands Jarvis a present. Their chatter slowly fades out when Pepper closes the kitchen door to have privacy. May is standing with her arms crossed, her back against the counter, and eyebrows furrow with thin lines across her forehead.

Pepper intertwines her hands together in front of her, she pauses in her step afraid of getting closer she will spook May. “You okay?”

May immediately looks up, her mouth agape. “Why didn’t you tell me you were in love with me?” Her arms relax at her sides.

Pepper’s mouth opens then closes. She ponders for a moment. “I was going to tell you.” She clenches her hands, knuckles turning a shade of white.

“When? In a year or two?” May steps forward.

“I mean, maybe,” Pepper shrugs. May scoffs. “And how did you think I would feel, huh? What if I started dating someone? Or you started dating? Would you just stay quiet about it and suffer in silence?”

“In the case of you dating someone, yes, I would stay quiet about it, because it’s unrequited love. If I started dating someone, I wouldn’t give my all to then and I know that’s not fair at all. Pepper takes a step forward, she unclenches her hands.

May licks her lips. “What if it’s not unrequited love?”

“Then we do something about it.” Pepper takes two steps. She wipes her clammy hands onto her pants.

“Let’s do something about it.” May strides over to Pepper, wrapping a hand around her neck, pulling her in for a kiss. It’s hot, and heavy and teeth clashing. Pepper’s arms instinctively wrap around May’s torso, sliding down to her hips, fitting perfectly into May’s love handles. Pepper lets out a small moan when May pulls away, her pupils are wide and there’s a spark in them.

“I love you.” Pepper grins like a Cheshire Cat. Her heart is banging like a drum and she feels like she can suddenly float on water. She pulls May back in, mumbling, ‘I love you too’ on her lips. Pepper lifts May onto the counter, May dangles her legs on either side of Pepper. She wraps them around Pepper’s legs, pulling her towards her. May’s hands roam Pepper’s body, rubbing her hands up and down her arms, almost as if this is their first time. It’s not. She feels goosebumps and soft skin, and the smell of roses. It soothes her. May moves away from Pepper’s mouth to place delicate kisses along her neck and collarbone. Pepper bites her lip.

Pepper sighs heavily. “We’re in the kitchen. I don’t think it’s a good idea to get hot and heavy in here.” Pepper leans her forehead against May’s. May pouts, her bottom lip poking out. “You’re right.”

Pepper helps May down from the counter and together they head back into the living room where the others have unwrapped all the presents.

“Hey, you’re back! We opened everything because it’s my house and I can,” Tony smirks.

“That’s okay,” May says smiling. “We’re just going to relax and get things ready before we leave.” She side eyes Pepper and grabs her hand.

“That’s right, I totally forgot,” Steve gasps. His eyes still fixated on his paint supplies. Tony’s heart swells in his chest every time he sees that glimmer in Steve’s eyes.

“I’ll pack leftovers for all of you,” Jarvis announces before heading into the kitchen.

“Thank you, J.” Tony yells with a smile on his face.

May leads Pepper up the stairs to their room, she shuts the door. Pepper leans back onto the bed, she closes her eyes. May licks her lips before lunging herself on top of Pepper. Her arms rest on either side of Pepper’s head, the necklace dangles, occasionally bumping into Pepper’s nose.

May kisses Pepper slowly and softly, she slips her tongue in. Pepper lets out a low moan as she switches their position, without breaking the kiss. Pepper slowly lifts up May’s shirt to unbutton her pants. She slides them down her legs and drops them to the floor with a silent thud. May rubs her hands along Pepper’s arms, feeling how they twitch anytime she touches them.

Pulling away, Pepper kisses May’s stomach and slowly kisses down until she reaches her underwear, placing a kiss there too when May lets out a whimper. Pepper wraps a hand around her thigh, kissing the side of it before using a finger to drag down May’s underwear and off the bed, dropping down on top of her pants.

May’s hips lift off the bed when Pepper kisses her clit. She slides two fingers through her folds, feeling how aroused she is and slowly begins to rub in circular motions. May lets out a breathy moan. “Pepper.”

“Yeah?” She raises an eyebrow and looks up.

“C’mon already, please.”

“As you wish.” Pepper says before licking a long stride. She goes up and down, very slowly, teasing May. She slides one finger in and May’s hips once again, lift off the bed as she grabs onto the sheets. Pepper kitten-like licks her clit as she slides a second finger in, she speeds up her motion, feeling May’s walls clench around her fingers. She’s close and May bites her lip to the point where it starts to bleed. Pepper removes her fingers and replaces them with her tongue and May moans loud.

Pepper grabs May’s hand with her, now free, one. Too caught up in the act to care about the wetness of Pepper's hand, May intertwines them together, knuckles turning white as Pepper’s tongue goes deeper until May’s backs arches off the bed for a final time and she gasps. May sees a blinding light and stars as Pepper continues to lick, not leaving anything behind and lays her head on May’s stomach, breathing heavily.

May chuckles. “I’ll never get tired of that.”

Pepper kisses May’s thigh. “Neither will I.”

May runs her hand through Pepper’s hair as they lay there for a moment or two. May sighs.

“I have to shower before we go. Unless you want to take me up on our previous rain check?” May smirks as she raises an eyebrow.

“Tempting but if I go with you, we’ll never get out.” Pepper pushes a strand behind May’s ear.

May rolls her eyes playfully and gets off the bed. "Pick something out for me."

Pepper tilts her head down, “of course.” May smiles and closes the bathroom door behind her before poking her head out.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Pepper shakes her head and stands up, stretching. She lets out a content sigh before taking out some clothes for May and herself.

Fifteen minutes later, May is out of the shower with a towel wrapped around her body. She graciously puts the clothes, Pepper laid out for her, on. It’s just her usual grey crewneck and matching sweatpants, but May can’t help but smile to herself.

“I figured you would want to be comfortable in the car,” Pepper says honestly as she heads to the bathroom.

“Thank you.” May pulls the crewneck over her head and untucks her hair from the neckline. She puts her grandmother’s necklace back on and holds it in her hands.

Pepper quickly vanishes into the bathroom as May gathers her things. They barely touches their suitcases when they arrived, only to change into pajamas and get necessities. There’s a knock at their door and May has an inkling she knows who it is. Her suspicion is correct when she opens to see Tony staring at her. May raises an eyebrow.

“You had sex.” Is the first thing to come out of Tony’s lips and May gasps. May’s nose scrunches up as she tries to weasel her way out of talking about it but Tony ignores her and hops on the window seat, avoiding the bed at all cost.

May rests her hands on her hips. “What do you want Tony?”

Tony leans forward. “Well I would love to hear about the sexy stuff but Steve told me I have to tell you we’re leaving soon. As in five minutes because mr perfect doesn’t want to hit traffic.”

May chuckles. “You guys have the weirdest nicknames, I’ll never understand it.” Tony shakes his head.

“And you never will, my dear.”

Pepper comes out of the bathroom fully clothed, she’s not surprised to see Tony here, after all it is his house, well, parents house technically. She had a feeling he would be in the room and definitely didn’t want to scare him into oblivion at her nakedness.

Tony raises his eyebrows up and down with a smirk plastered across his face. “So,” he drags out.

“So what?” Pepper rolls her eyes.

Tony claps his hands together and lets out a child-like giggle. “I can’t believe you guys had sex in my parents room! I can’t wait to tell Steve.”

May and Pepper fall silent, they side-eye one another and shoulders tense up. Tony’s hand covers his mouth to contain his laughter.

“What!”

“Can you repeat that one more time?”

Tony takes a breath and grins. “Yeah, we don’t have a guest bedroom. Most of the rooms up here are offices and libraries, it’s just their room and mine. Jarvis has the guest house out back.” He giggles once more. May and Pepper stare at him flabbergasted. They’re at a complete loss of words and remain silent until Steve comes to check up on them.

“Hey, you guys ready to go—“ he pauses. “What’s wrong?” He raises an eyebrow. Tony lips fold into his mouth as tries not to let out anymore laughter. He scratches the back of his neck as he lets out a breath.

“These two,” he gestures towards May and Pepper. Steve looks at the both of them. “Had sex in my parents room.” Tony then gestures with his hands, in a jazz hand motion, the room. Steve’s eyes widen as he lets out a snort followed by a loud cackle. His back arches as his head tilts back, he wants to cover his mouth to suppress the laughter but he just can’t do it.

May’s mouth is still agape and at a standstill when Pepper rolls her eyes and gathers their suitcases. May feels the roughness of her suitcase handle in hand and Pepper’s warm, soft, hand in the other. She drags May along out the door, still hearing the loud cackling from Steve and occasional shushes from Tony.

May bounces back to reality when Jarvis stands in front of her, handing her Tupperware of goods. May nods her head, smiling. “Thank you, Jarvis”

“Anytime, miss Parker.” Jarvis leans in to hug May, she happily obliges, wrapping her arms around his slender frame. She pulls away when Jarvis moves to Pepper, hugging her as well.

“It was lovely to meet you miss Potts. You’re welcome to come here whenever you please.”

Pepper smiles. “Thank you Jarvis.”

Tony and Steve come trudging down the stairs. “Ready to go?” Steve asks before grabbing their suitcases and heads out the door, May nods her head.

Tony turns to Jarvis. “Happy Holidays, J. We should do this every year, it always gets better and better.” Tony sends a sly smirk to May as she rolls her eyes and heads in the direction Steve went. Pepper quietly follows not a minute after.

Jarvis rubs Tony’s shoulder. “We do this every year, Tony. Even with the exception of your parents.”

Tony shakes his head. “No, I know. I mean, it’s just better without them, more quiet and relaxed rather than the chaotic mess.” Jarvis hums in agreement.

“I see, sir. Well they won’t be back for another two weeks, can I expect to see you and mister Rogers before then?”

“Of course you can.” Tony smiles and hugs Jarvis.

Jarvis looks up and out the open door to see Steve waiting by the passenger side, arms across his chest, one over the other.

“I like this one.” Jarvis says quietly even though they’re the only two in the foyer. Tony wants to scream with glee, but he doesn’t. Instead, a tear slides down his cheek, he quickly wipes it away. Tony grips Jarvis’ jacket tighter, he starts to shake, knuckles turning a shade of white. All Tony has ever wanted from his parents is love, affection, and acceptance, maybe even an occasional ‘i love you.’ So far he has barely gotten any of those. That’s an understatement. The only ‘i love you’s’ he’s heard is from Jarvis, Steve, and May. And now, to hear something so pure and something he shouldn’t even ask for, from Jarvis, someone Tony absolutely adores and admires is just the thing he needed to hear this weekend.

Jarvis rubs Tony’s back comfortingly. Tony mumbles a ‘thank you’ into his neck and Jarvis smiles. They stay like that for a moment until Tony pulls away, wiping his face.

“Out of all of them, you’re the best one,Tony. I mean it.”

“Thanks, J.” Tony sends Jarvis one last glance and a smile before grabbing his backpack and is out the door. Steve uncrosses his arms and opens the passenger door for him. His eyebrows furrow and his smile is replaced with a concern look. “You okay?” He rubs Tony’s shoulder once he’s in arms length.

“Never better.” Tony says smiling. Steve ushers Tony into the car and shuts the door. Before entering the car, Steve turns back to Jarvis and waves. Jarvis smiles and nods his head. Steve puts the car in drive and backs out onto the main road. The radio plays soft 70s music that Tony silently hates but Steve knows he enjoys it from time to time. Tony grabs Steve’s hand and kisses his knuckles before rubbing a thumb gently over it. Steve side eyes Tony, keeping his eyes on the road but a warm smile plasters his face and Tony’s heart swoons in his chest.

In the backseat, May rests her head on Pepper’s shoulder. Their hands intertwined as May reads the book she brought with her. Pepper silently following along with her.

They’re in the car for over an hour and good thing they left when they did because traffic just started as they entered the city. Pulling up to the curb in front of May’s apartment complex, Steve’s puts the car in park and unlocks the trunk. He places their suitcases onto the curb.

“Thanks, Steve.” Pepper says with a smile.

“No problem.” Steve stuffs his hands in his pockets as he leans against the trunk. Pepper glances at May talking discreetly to Tony by the passenger side door.

“She’s a good one.�� Steve says suddenly, breaking Pepper out of her trance.

“I know. Thank you for reminding me.” Pepper blushes as she fixes her shoulder bag. May shakes her head and chuckles to herself when she walks back to Pepper. She leans her forehead on Pepper’s shoulder. “I’m so tired.”

Pepper places a kiss on the crown of May’s head. “I know, babe. C’mon, I’m sure Milo misses you.” May’s instantly perks up and runs to the apartment door, suitcase in tow, yelling, “I hope Loki didn’t kill him!”

Tony shakes his head as Steve chuckles and Pepper sighs. “See you guys later. Get home safe.”

“Will do.” Steve sends her a salute and is in the car, pulling away from the curb as Tony waves goodbye.

Pepper meets May in front of the elevators and smiles when she sees May getting antsy, she’s jumping up and down in place.

“I can’t wait to see my baby boy!” May yells when the elevator doors let out a beeping sound. They’re in the elevator in a flash and immediately press their designated floor button. May’s still bouncing up and down, like a little kid in a candy store. The elevator lets out another beep and May runs as fast as she can to the door and unlocks it, leaving it open for Pepper who is still walking.

“Milo! Baby!” Pepper hears May and she giggles to herself. Once inside, Pepper shuts the door and places her suitcase by the door. She takes off her jacket and places it on the coatrack. Pepper heads to the kitchen to get a drink but pauses in her step when she sees a note on the counter. It’s for the both of them.

‘Dear May and Pepper,

Milo was an absolute dear. He was very lovable and affectionate and the most sweetest cat. So no, May, I didn’t kill him. He’s very much alive and waiting to see you again. You too, Pepper. I hope one day we can meet face to face, I’ve heard wonderful things. P.S; I would love to cat sit any time, any where.

Love, Loki’

“May, there’s a note here from Loki,” Pepper says as she carries the note with her to the living room. May is cuddling with Milo who has his head is resting on her chest and purrs softly. May takes the note with her free hand and reads it with a smile on his face. “I’ll text him later to say thank you.”

“And you thought something bad would happened to him,” Pepper shakes her head as she takes the empty seat next to May on the couch, petting Milo slowly. May glares at her.

“I have to take precautions, he’s my son. Ain’t that right, Milo?” She lifts him up so they’re face to face, Milo tilts his head and licks May’s nose. She grins. Pepper chuckles and Milo iears perk up at the sound. He's focused on her now as he jumps out of May’s hold and walks over her legs to Pepper and purrs.

“Yeah, sure, kid.” May rests her arm on the back of the couch, she stares at the two of them. “So, what now?”

Pepper eyes advert from Milo, who is rubbing is head on her arm, to May. “U-haul?”

May laughs. “Too soon.”

“Definitely.”

There’s a moment of silence before Pepper speaks up. “I don’t want to go home just yet.” May smiles and stands up from the couch. She puts a record on and moves the dial onto it, turning the volume up. Of course, Wham! plays softly through the speakers.

May gestures a come hither motion with her hands and Pepper can’t resist but move Milo out of her lap, he looks up at them with wide, curious, eyes. Pepper holds May’s hands as they sway together, back and forth to the beat of the music. Pepper twirls May around as she throws her head back, laughing, she pulls her in and rests her forehead against May’s. May pecks her lips before spinning around in a circle, moving her arms in the air. Pepper pauses and smiles at May dancing. Yeah, she could get use to this.

#Marvel #peppermay #stevetony #may parker #pepper potts #steve rogers #mcu #yelenat #natasha romanoff #yelena belova #marvel imagine #avengers #fake dating #college au

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cocoarosalia · 6 years

Text

All They Have (KatsuDeku)

“Ok so if we decide to move to this district the crime would be pretty low but that wouldn’t be good for pay, so maybe if we-“

“What are you babbling on about now nerd”

Izuku felt like he had jumped clear to the ceiling with how hard he jolted up from his seat and onto his feet. Katsuki gave him a strange look from the entryway of their little one bedroom apartment, the kind of look that made him think that Katsuki might have known what he was up to but couldn’t quite prove it yet. Izuku covered up the guilty feeling in the pit of his stomach with a fake cough and tried to act somewhat natural with his phone shoved behind his back.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about kacchan, I’m always babbling about something. On a separate note to stop talking about this, I thought you weren’t coming home till this evening?”

Katsuki was slow to respond as he stalked izuku in the direction of the couch “Crime was slow today so I got to finish my paperwork early” he suddenly crowded izuku onto the couch, knocking him into the seat and straddling his waist so he couldn’t escape.

“But that wasn’t a good answer to my question, was it deku?”

Izuku wriggled desperately to get away from his husband’s clutches. He saw how his eyes flashed evilly, the smile large, vicious and a little too happy. A look katsuki got when interrogating criminals, a look izuku hated being on the receiving end of. Izuku was about to use a hint of his quirk to push Katsuki off, when the wicked look he was giving suddenly turned into unexpected shock and then right into something unabashedly naughty.

“Something hard between your legs is telling me that it wasn’t very family friendly”

Izuku could damn well feel his eyes bug out of his head “A-are you insane?! No it wasn’t sexual! That something hard is because you’re squirming on my lap and I know you’re too tired from work to handle it, so if you don’t mind?”

Izuku hoped that his “doting” husband would catch the hint husband would either catch the hint or accept the challenge and leave him to wallow in truth and shame silently, or become too distracted with proving izuku wrong about how tired he was, that he would forget about the younger mans phone

“Naaah not buying it. Let’s see what’s really on ‘the symbol of hope’s’ phone”

His hope was misplaced

The pair broke out into a wrestling match like when they were kids, pulling and kicking for the rights over the phone and neither were above playing dirty. For every nip to Izuku’s plump cheeks, he’d fire back with a non-sexy yank on Katsuki’s ashy pale blonde hair. For a moment Izuku completely forgot about why he was even fighting over the phone to begin with. Memories of their lives before getting married, before being together, or even before entering U.A came flooding back to him. He remembered fights like these over his favorite All Might action figure, when they would roll around on the dirty playground floor cause Katsuki would claim that ‘Dekus like him didn’t deserve a toy like this’. It hurt back then but looking back Izuku felt like he could finally smile about it.

“Hah! it’s my win Deku!”

Or he would if his face wasn’t completely smushed into the couch cushions

Izuku squirmed, trying to break free but katsuki’s arms were around him, pinning his own to his sides. Katsuki had clearly been training with Uraraka lately. One moment izuku thinks he had the upper hand with him pinning Katsuki onto his back and the next Katsuki’s wrapping his legs around him like a snake and shoving him onto his side so he can slot behind him, put his arms in a vice grip and yank the phone from his hands.

“Kacchan! let me go you maniac!” He barked with not much bite. To be honest he’d be much more angry if he wasn’t so turned on by how quickly his husband was able to overpower him

Katsuki snorted out a laugh “After all that work? Oh I’m definitely going through your stuff now”

Izuku was clearly defeated, his body went limp in his husbands arms. His only saving grace now was that katsuki would find interest in anything else remotely embarrassing on the phone that wasn’t his secret project.

Katsuki opened the device and started to scroll through Izuku’s endless apps. Many were hero branded apps that fed his insatiable desire to drown himself in hero culture. Others were types of training and weight monitoring apps so he could always stay on top of his and katsuki’s physical wellness. Most of them, however, were stupid, mind numbing games to keep him occupied while patrolling.

(He had Pokemon Go for a while but Katsuki threatened to stop visiting him at work if he kept it, saying that it distracted him ‘from the only prize he needed to catch’)

“Jesus Deku don’t you ever clean out your fucking phone?”

Izuku pouted indignantly “How do you know I don’t use them all?”

“Because you always put your most used apps out on the first or second page and you have like five pages” Izuku pouted harder

When Katsuki finally got to the last page Izuku began to think that he could finally let out a small sigh of relief. He had to admit that he enjoyed playing dating sims when his husband wasn't looking (‘IT’S FOR THE STORY KACCHAN’) but all things considered it wasn’t too bad an investigation. As long as his too nosy husband managed to give him back his phone and leave him be he was in the clear!

“Lifetime Organizer?” katsuki said with a slight lilt in his voice, like he had just found a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow and izuku knew from that tone alone that he was in for many teasing jabs.

Izuku could just feel the heat burning the back of his neck. Katsuki hugged around him closer, no doubt ensuring that Izuku would have to fight if he wanted freedom from his shame “You mind telling me what this is?” izuku could practically hear the smile in his husbands tone.

He couldn’t admit it, he just couldn’t! His husband was already mentally pointing and laughing at him for having so many dumb apps as he has, but for Izuku to admit to the one app he DIDN’T want Katsuki to see EVEN SEE would be like signing the suicide note to his peaceful, blissfully ignorant lifestyle! He had to come up with something, ANYTHING.

“It’s a secret app for all the gay porn I have”

SOMETHING BETTER THAN THAT YOU DINGUS!

A hole, a hole that was 10 feet wide and six feet deep should just appear before him now and swallow him whole. Izuku watched in pitying despair, his stomach dropping to his knees while Katsuki tapped the little pastel pink icon and pulled up a slew of color coded files all with overly cutesy names.

if izuku wasn't so riddled with shame he may have been slightly turned on with just how easily katsuki pulled them both up into a sitting position, izuku nestled in his lap as katsuki swiped through the different folders.“Hmm let’s see, ‘Work is where the headaches live’, ‘Our little slice of heaven’, ‘Second time’s the charm’, Ok Deku, spill. What is all this? I’ve already mocked you for it so you might as well come clean”

Izuku gnawed at his bottom lip, twisting and tangling his fingers together “Well, do you remember how our wedding went?”

Katsuki shuddered when he had to think about it. You would think that the WONDER DUO, two of japan’s most prolific and deeply loved heroes would have the wedding of the century. Their wedding should’ve been a televised event with big name performances, fireworks and all that other spectacle shit, before ending with them riding off to their luxury honeymoon on the back of a fucking elephant!

It SHOULD have been a night for Katsuki to have a real moment of humility and down to earthness, where he could take the time to appreciate the man who risked his life, possessions and everything else for him. The same man who’d do it again without so much as a second thought. Their wedding was SUPPOSED to be something out of a goddamn fairy tale.

But how did they spend it? Arguing. And over the stupidest shit at that! Izuku, being the extra little drama queen that he himself admitted to being, insisted that they keep with American traditions (despite the very obvious fact that they’re japanese, but whatthefuckever) and not see each other before the time came for them to walk down the aisle. Katsuki was very quick to point out how stupid that sounded, yet Izuku refused to budge, which already started the day off poorly. What Katsuki failed to mention, however, was why he even objected in the first place!

The real reason he hated the idea was that he was actually nervous for the third time in his whole life (first time being asking the nerd out, second time being the actual proposal). He didn’t want to be alone. Sure he had Kirishima and Kaminari there, but it wasn’t the same. He wanted to hold onto his favorite nerd and be reminded that, yes, this weird ball of forest green fluff actually loved him enough to be stuck with him for the rest of their lives.

So Katsuki responded the only way he knew how, by lashing out until everyone was having as shit a time as him. By the time the actual ceremony happened, Izuku didn’t wanna talk to him, his friends were avoiding him and all he wanted was to drown his sorrows. It took him pretty much proposing again for Izuku to forgive him and they could actually walk into the reception and have a good time. But then….family had to get involved.

Neither Katsuki nor Izuku would be even close to the men they are today, without the ever present loving support of their family. In the beginning of their professional careers their parents were the only thing that grounded them to the reality that being a hero, will always be both the best and most painful job there can be. They owed everything to their families and couldn’t imagine not having them be apart of the celebration…..

But maybe next time they decide to have a get together, they’d cool it on the open bar a little.

Not even an hour into the reception and Izuku’s mother had damn near cried herself into exhaustion, sobbing and drinking herself silly over her “sweet baby boy becoming such a strong young man” and that now “She would be in an empty house all alone while he’s off living his life”. Izuku was so riddled with guilt and stress that he had to take her outside to convince her that he wasn’t going to basically ship her off to an old folks home as soon as the reception ended.

Katsuki’s parents were comparatively worse when the liquid courage started flowing. They were always social drinkers and never had so much as a sip when inside the house, but outside? Amongst friends? VERY MUCH IN PUBLIC? They were total nightmares. Katsuki’s dad had decided that it was a wonderful idea to get everyone to join in a singalong of the cheesiest songs known to man and dance the literal “funky chicken” while actively refusing to stay on beat to save his life. But it was typical dad stuff, nothing Katsuki hadn’t already shamed out of his system by the time he graduated U.A. But his mom? Mitsuki Bakugou could forever proudly claim, that she had single handedly scarred him and all the guests without an ounce of help.

All night long she got her shits and giggles from telling inappropriate stories about “Katsuki’s late night laundry runs” and “The not so hidden magazines he thought he could keep from me” and most spectacularly “That one time I walked in on them blowing each other and like the supportive mother I am, provided helpful tips on how to improve their technique”. It took Katsuki tackling his mom to the floor and dragging her out kicking and screaming to keep her from deciding that it would be a good idea to walk up to the podium, champagne in hand and give an “emotional speech to the happy couple”.

Oh and there was also a villain attack right as they were cutting the cake! But to be fair that was probably the most relief they had that whole night.

“By the time we got back to our room we couldn’t even have awesome newlywed sex” Katsuki lamented

“I know, I woke up before you that morning and when I saw all the toys you had planned out I think I cried”

Katsuki nodded solemnly, as much as he adored being married to his favorite nerd you could not PAY him enough to relive that nightmare again

“But that still doesn’t answer my question” katsuki said after a moment “What the hell is this ‘organizer’ or whatever”

Izuku’s face flushed pink around his freckled shoulders. He sighed in embarrassment “Well ever since that day I’ve had anxiety about where our lives might end up if things aren’t planned properly. I mean, if we couldn’t make it through our own wedding then WHO KNOWS what else could just….pop up and ruin everything we’ve built together”

Katsuki’s face turned in a frown “And why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“Because I thought you’d say it was stupid” Izuku responded with a pout

“It is” Katsuki replied bluntly “But that’s not the point”

Katsuki took Izuku’s head in his hands and tilted it back till he was gazing into deep eyes of forest green “I married you for more than your strengths dumbass which, yes, includes all the weird little chinks in your stupidly, shining armor. You have gotta trust me on that ok?”

Izuku made a small pout, feeling that it was unfair that Katsuki could find just,/i> the right words to talk him out of his insecurities, but still relaxed under the soothing warmth of his husband hands.

“Now that that’s all agreed upon” Katsuki said with a definitive nod “Let’s see how stupidly sweet you’ve made our lives”

Izuku made one last gut dash for his phone. He might trust his husband but if he could avoid the embarrassment and make a run for it, you bet your ass he’ll give it the old “Plus Ultra” try. But not even if he activated One for All to 100% could he move faster than the man who had already countered his every move before he could even make them. Katsuki tightened his grip around Izuku and grounded him harder to his chest, reaching the phone high above their heads and opening the first folder.

“‘In our corner of the universe’ christ even the folder names are cheesy, you’re such a sap Deku”

Brochures and pictures were simulated to fall out of the folders inner pockets and scattered themselves all over the screen. Katsuki saw images of high end condos mix messily with little neighborhood homes, completed with a closed off front yard and white picket fences. And of course no plan of Izuku’s could be even close to complete without an incomprehensible amount of notes being attached to every single image. Even as he read each note he could just see Izuku running himself ragged trying to extract and analyze every minute detail of every possible listing.

“2 bedroom condo in the city of Sapporo, heart of Hokkaido. Nearest station, six minutes away and the closest Hero Agency 20 is minutes” Katsuki spoke in a bored tone as he rattled off the basic listing information. But strangely Izuku did not feel as though his husband was disinterested in what he read. The information was boring, sure, but there was a certain glint in Katsuki’s gaze that Izuku knew all too well as his “analytical eye”. It comforted Izuku in a strange ‘thank-god-he’s-at-least-pretending-to-indulge-me’ kind of way.

“Well I’m only one house in and you’ve already fucked up”

Izuku face went pale in confused fear “What!? Why?”

“Don’t fucking ask ‘why?’ you little shit!” Katsuki pinched and pulled at Izuku soft cheeks “What makes you think I want to move all the way to the fucking north!? It’s fucking cold, which means no sweat, which means I’m fucking useless!”

“But the hero agency up there pays really well!” the younger hero whined in pain

“No shit! It’s cause no one wants to fucking work there. I bet the crime rate is really low up there too isn’t it?”

“I-I mean” Izuku stammered “There’s quite a number of jaywalkers out there”

Katsuki released his husbands now pinch reddened cheeks “I’m quaking in my steel tipped boots”

The bruised hero sighed and rubbed his face to soothe the pain “I’m guessing Osaka’s out then”

“Whatcha think? just put sweat based EXPLOSION hero in the blistering humid south, THAT shouldn’t cause any problems”

“Nara?”

“I’ll put a deer in a headlock”

“Kyoto?”

“That’s where old people go to die”

Izuku was starting to get frustrated at his partner’s contrarian behavior “Well where DO you want to go Kacchan? Cause I’m NOT living in a tiny one bedroom apartment for the rest of my life”

“Obviously” Katsuki retorted. He paused and thought for a minute weighing the pros and cons of every prefecture in Japan.

“How about Shizuoka?”

Izuku blinked up at him “That...Why there of all places?”

Katsuki flopped back over onto the couch and turned his face toward the sofa’s back. He was trying to hide the bashful blush on his face, but in Izuku’s experience he wasn’t very good at it

“It’s not that far from Tokyo so you can still see your mom or whatever” Katsuki said “plus it’s got a lot of mountains and nature and shit, so since we both like the outdoors seems like a good choice to me”

Izuku felt a blush creep up to his ears. For all the criticism Katsuki got stuck with for being loud, hot-headed and just generally being a rough guy to get along with, if there was one thing no one could ever claim, it would be that he wasn’t attentive. He knew his husband could pay attention and listen when needed but it still never failed to shock him when he would translate all his nonsensical ramblings into a tangible idea or plan they can actually execute.

“O-ok” Izuku said with a sheepish tone “We’ll move to Shizuoka”

“Awesome, glad that trainwreck is over with, let’s board the next one”

And that was how they spent the rest of their afternoon. Izuku would suggest they do a certain thing later in life, and katsuki would almost always fervently disagree and offer a slightly less terrible compromise. But the time evening rolled in, they had agreed to have a completely dry vow renewal in a few years, would work at different hero agencies when they moved and adopt a dog to look after the house (ok Izuku didn’t really give consent to that last one, but Katsuki figured that he just hadn’t met the right mutt yet)

Things were going just as Izuku always dreamed…...until he brought up the word “surrogacy”

“You want to do WHAT!?”

“Kacchan it’s not what you think!” Izuku chased after his husband as Katsuki stormed out of the living room and down the hallway toward the bedroom

“You want to get a woman pregnant, with OUR sperm. Despite the fact that we’re gayer than a rainbow burning with glittering fire!”

“....ok so it is what you think”

Katsuki threw out an exasperated “holy fucking christ” while he plopped down onto the bed. He flopped onto his back and ran his hands over his face, cause he needed to rub the stupid off him before he caught even a whiff of it. Izuku rolled his eyes at the display, Katsuki was such a drama queen.

“There is not one single female that’ll go through with it”

Izuku snorted “I can promise you that the over 50,000 Deku or Ground Zero X Reader fanfictions online might disagree”

“AHA! SO YOU DO READ THEM!”

“NOT THE POINT AND I READ THEM FOR THE STORIES”

Izuku lifted away from the bedroom door frame and sat next to his partner in life “it’s not like you’re fucking the woman we choose, it’s done entirely without you betraying your flamboyant homosexuality”

“First of all, fuck you cause you still use the word ‘queen’ unironically and second of all that’s not the problem”

Katsuki sat back up once more on the bed and laced his fingers together over his knees, head hung low. He took a deep breath and started speaking “There’s not exactly a lot of females i’d even trust enough to carry what would most definitely be named the ‘wonder baby’.”

Izuku scratched his cheek in discomfort, a terrible habit of his “Well the process starts right off the bat with us screening applications until we find the right surrogate”

“But a complete stranger?” Katsuki said “And what if we find out she’s some crazed fan on top of that? The media will be swarming like flies and there’s absolutely NO guarantee that she won’t talk, it’s just too risky”

“What if” Izuku started chewing on his bottom lip, his mind racing with the possibilities of how this next statement would pan out “What if we picked someone who was used to the spotlight. Someone who had been trained to deal with the media?” izuku asked hesitantly

Katsuki propped his chin up on his fist and snorted out a laugh “what, you gonna get some big name celebrity bimbo to loan us her body for 9 months?”

Izuku sat up a little straighter, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth “Well, you actually know this ‘big name celebrity’ and she’s not a bimbo. She couldn’t be one if she could kick your ass” Izuku said with a slight smug tone to his voice

Katsuki stopped. No one can kick his ass! Only Deku can and he has to put effort into it! Hell, the only one whoever came close was…

“Absolutely fucking not Deku”

“Oh come on!” Izuku groaned, shoulders slumping slightly “She’s perfect for it!”

Katsuki could not believe the stupid shooting from his husband’s mouth “Round-Face!? I’d sooner denounce how fucking gay I am than have her carry our fucking baby!”

“But why!? We both know her, she can handle herself in a fight, and she’s been in the media as long as we have! I mean for All Might’s sake she already-”

Izuku clapped both of his hands over his mouth and let the rest of his words die right on his tongue. Katsuki scowled deeply at him.

“She already what deku?”

Curly moss green hair flapped everywhere as he shook his head in defiance. Izuku was a talker, at work, at home, and most assuredly in bed. So for him to clam up right before pulling on the trigger to his foot could only mean one thing.

“You already had this fucking conversation with her!?”

Izuku gripped his hands to his face harder

Katsuki deflated in disbelief “and she already agreed to go through with it, didn’t she”

He couldn’t stand the way Izuku couldn’t look at him, the way he refused to meet his eyes. Katsuki pushed off the bed to get some much needed separation between them. This was too many stupid decisions in one night

“Kacchan please.” Izuku pleaded “Just list-”

“Just listen? Is that the stupid shit you were about to ask me? You were about to ask me to fucking hear you out weren’t you? To see things from YOUR point of view, to understand the over abundant LOGIC that is your thought process WHEN YOU DON’T EVEN REALIZE THAT IT’S SO GODDAMN FLAWED THAT ITS SCARY!”

Izuku’s crossed his arms in indignity “What are you getting so mad for anyway? It’s not like I already got her pregnant”

“No but with your current record I wouldn’t fucking put it past you.” Katsuki snapped back “And you wanna know why i’m so pissed? It’s because you didn’t even ask me for my opinion.”

Katsuki took a deep breath before speaking again “Did you ever stop to wonder WHY I don’t want a surrogate, ESPECIALLY not round-face?”

“Because you don’t trust anyone to properly carry the golden genes of a bakugou male?” Izuku said with feigned theatrics

Katsuki rolled his eyes “No you ass, it’s because a baby is giant undertaking for the human body and psyche”

That pouty dismissive look Izuku was giving him was getting dangerously close to ‘punch in the face’ levels of annoying “Oh what do you know? It’s not like you have any siblings!”

“No but I have aunts, cousins, and coworkers. All of whom have had to put their careers on hold for a year then have to put themselves through more pain than any villain ever could to BIRTH these kids”

“She’s an adult Kacchan, what she does with her body is her business”

“No duh dipshit but as her best friend i’d hope that you’d think about more than just what you want and how willing she is to fucking give it to you”

“And while you’re thinking about what you,/i> want, how much my opinion doesn’t mean shit to you? Think about this instead.” Katsuki reached into his bedside drawer and pulled out a folded up set of papers. He shoved the stack into izuku’s chest and stormed off to the kitchen because if you asked him? He REALLY needed something strong.

Izuku recoiled from the booming sound of the bedroom door slamming behind him. He ran his fingers over the folds of the paper, felt the bumps of the staple. He just didn’t understand! Katsuki didn’t care as much about the other stuff they talked about. Sure, he wasn’t quite in agreeance either but they could always come to a compromise. Butterfly’s beat at his stomach; this stack of papers felt like it was getting heavier and heavier the more he hesitated.

He swallowed his guilt and anxiety, at least for the moment, and unfolded the papers

“....... Dammit Kacchan”

Katsuki tipped back another round of whiskey and slammed the glass on the kitchen counter. He’d never call himself a regular drinker as alcohol was the fastest way to fuck up his career. But just thinking about how much izuku was just willing to…..completely ignore his input was just too much to bear sober. He put his head on the cool counter as what would inevitably turn into a garbage hangover, began to throb in his head.

He was about to toss izuku onto the couch for the night so he could sleep off his buzzed stupor until he felt a warmth press against his back. His conscience screamed it’s heart out for him to turn around and forgive his stupid brat of a husband, but Katsuki was resolute. Izuku wanted to ignore him? Then too can play that game and they both knew that katsuki was not one keen to losing.

“You’re drinking again” the warm body behind him spoke

Katsuki scoffed “only way to stoop down to your logic”

Izuku chewed on his bottom lip and gripped at katsuki’s shirt “kacchan why didn’t you tell me that you just wanted to adopt?”

“Why did you plan the next 30 years of our life together without telling me?”

Izuku didn’t respond for a moment. The tension in the room was thick like tar, a single word trigger away from lighting on fire and swallowing them both whole.

“I was scared”

“You’re full of shit” katsuki bit out in bitter disbelief

Izuku sighed and wound his arms around his husband’s stomach “I know! I know it’s hard to believe, especially after the way I acted but you gotta admit you’re a very….in the moment kinda guy”

Katsuki didn’t speak; Izuku hugged tighter and nuzzled his face into his back “I wanted to show you all of this when it was….when I was ready to actually go through with it. I wanted to show you that I wanted to do more than just love you from our cozy little apartment. I want to grow with you, build a life with you, become better with you right there….figuring it out with me”

Katsuki still didn’t look at him, his golden pale blonde spikes obscuring Izuku’s view. Izuku considered trying to convince him of his mistake again but ultimately decided there was no point, he had betrayed his husband’s faith in him and no sweet words were going to change that tonight. Izuku unwrapped his arms from around Katsuki’s waist and turned to walk toward the living room, which would surely be his bedroom for tonight.

“I want a girl”

Izuku stopped dead in his tracks. He turned to Katsuki, shock evident on his face.

“Oh don’t look at me like that. If you can decide what fucking agency i’m gonna work in, then at the very least you owe me a baby girl. There’s too much testosterone in this house as it is anyway”

Izuku ran his arms over his leaking eyes briskly, suppressing a laugh “I don’t think we get to choose the gender of our baby. To be honest we’d be lucky if we got approved given….our….status”

Katsuki seemed to grow a whole foot taller than Izuku as he bored his carmine red gaze down onto him. There had to have been some space between them but Izuku felt like he was suffocating in the intimidating aura of his husband intense and murderous stare.

“You’ve saved people. You’ve saved very important people. So either you get me my baby Kazuku or we find out whether or not you have a male pregnancy quirk. Take your pick”

For all the things Izuku loved about his husband, his calm fury had to be scariest, sexiest trait of them all.

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