#it was too expensive for the whole family to go to but my mom took me

[roaringroa]

just watched the brazilian production of matilda the musical and to the surprise of no one i cried. to the surprise of some, 4 times.

[the-boy-meets-evil]

not according to plan | hjs

summary: your ex-fiance is getting married and everyone you know is going to be there. when he calls to ask if you're coming, you accidentally mention a boyfriend. which would be fine, if you weren't very single. thankfully your best friend comes through with the perfect solution when he sets you up with a friend of his. what could possibly go wrong?

pairing: joshua x f.reader genre: fake dating, strangers to friends to ?? | fluff, slight angst, smut rating: explicit, minors DNI word count: ~22.1k notes/warnings: johnny suh as the ex-fiancee (sorry, he's not great in this), other idols born in '95 used as background characters, mentions of past cheating, food & alcohol, lots of "dates", reader is referenced as coming from a rich family, mention of being an escort (minus the sex?) smut warnings: making out, multiple smut scenes (kind of, it could be a continuation), multiple orgasms, teasing, they're both v obsessed with each other's bodies, protected sex, fingering, nipple play, oral sex (f. receiving), scratching/marking, squirting, overstimulation, use of lube, i think that's it (but let me know if it's not)

author's note: this fic is dedicated to the lovely @shuadotcom, i'm so sorry it took me literal months to finish fake dating!joshua but here we are anyway. i'm not sure how this one got so away from me either lmao. banner credit to the beautiful @wongyuseokie who (again) did this very last minute. thank you to @wonwussy & @kwanisms for the mid-fic beta. thank you to @wooahaeproductions, @horanghater, @cheolism, & @hannieween for listening to me talk about this and helping with things like petnames & dates.

taglist at the end (& join my permanent taglist here)

“It’s fine, it’s been years and I’m over it. Plus, I’ve been seeing someone anyway and he’s great. So I wasn’t ignoring your invite,” you say without a second thought. 

It’s just a stream of consciousness. The lie comes flying out of your mouth faster than your brain can process it. That’s exactly what it is, too. A lie. You’re not seeing anyone and haven’t been in a serious relationship since the person on the other end of the call broke your heart. 

“Oh, wow, sorry, I didn’t mean to…well, I didn’t know. My mom didn’t say anything when she said she had spoken to your mom about whether or not you were coming to the wedding,” Johnny says with a little bit of ramble. 

“You know how my mom can be, I haven’t had the chance to tell her yet,” you deflect. 

“I’m happy for you, then,” Johnny says. 

“Thanks, I’m happy for you, too,” you force out. Somehow, it doesn’t sound like the lie you know that it is.

“So, it’s not weird, then? I mean our moms are best friends, so the rest of your family is all going to be there. A lot of your friends will be there. I know you haven’t RSVP’d yet, but…” Johnny starts.

“Nope! Not weird at all,” you utter, hoping that your voice sounds even. “It’d be weirder if I wasn’t there, right?” 

“Probably, yeah,” Johnny says. “That’s great, though. Do you want me to mark you down as a yes? I can even add a plus-one, if you want to bring your partner.” 

“That’s so thoughtful, but I wouldn’t want to put you out. I know how expensive weddings can be,” you say and try to sound sincere.

“No, it’s no issue, actually. We have a few extra seats that we left just in case we forgot someone or didn’t know about someone’s partner,” Johnny presses. “So we’ll see you both there?”

“Yeah, you will,” you hurry out. This conversation needs to be over. 

It’s only an hour after hanging up with your ex-fiancee that your mom calls to tell you she can’t believe she had to hear it from Mrs. Suh that you’re dating someone. Which includes a whole lot of deflecting and promises about when she can meet this mystery man. Another twenty minutes after you hang up with your mom, you get a pointed text from your younger sister. The two of you haven’t ever been all that close, so she shouldn’t be surprised that you haven’t mentioned him. She made her side pretty clear when she maintained her friendship with Johnny’s new fiancée. That new fiancee, a close friend of your sisters, also just so happened to be the girl he cheated on you with. So, she can hardly expect to have a close sister bond. Yet, she seems oddly suspicious that she didn’t know you were seeing someone seriously. 

Your quiet Saturday afternoon turns into a full blown headache all thanks to one call from the asshole that you really thought you left in the past. Of course, now is the perfect time for him to pop back up. Now, when you’re even between any sort of casual sex. Now, when you don’t even have someone that you can call up to pretend to date you. This is going to be one of the worst calls that you have to make when you have to admit you made it all up, that you will absolutely not be showing your face at the wedding, and you will also be changing your name before moving away.

For now, you do the only thing that you can think of doing. You call the only person that can give you any perspective on this whole fucking disaster. 

“Well hello,” your best friend answers. 

“Jeonghan, I fucked up,” you say without preamble. 

“This is gonna be good,” he responds. 

“I just got off the phone with my mom,” you begin.

“What did she want?” he asks, knowing that it won’t be anything good.

“Well, you know, to talk about this new boyfriend of mine,” you continue.

“You haven’t dated anyone in forever,” Jeonghan chuckles. 

“Thank you for that,” you snark. “And then, of course, I get a text from my perfect sister wondering why she’s also just hearing about this boyfriend of mine.” 

“Why do your sister and your mom think you’re dating someone?” Jeonghan asks.

“Oh, well, you know. Johnny called today,” you offer.

“Fuck that guy,” Jeonghan interjects.

“He wanted to know why I hadn’t responded to his wedding invite and assumed it was awkward because I was single, so I told him I was seeing someone,” you finally finish.

“For fuck’s sake,” Jeonghan says into the silence and you can imagine his face.

“Right? My life is a fucking mess and now Johnny thinks that I’m bringing my boyfriend,” you groan.

“I’ll start planning the story for why you suddenly left town,” Jeonghan says. 

“For real, my life is over,” you whine.

“What are you gonna do?” Jeonghan asks softly. 

This is really why you called him. Jeonghan is a shithead, sometimes, and he can be a bit of a chaos demon. He also can be a bit of a schemer, especially when it comes to winning a game. But, he’s unfailingly kind and caring to the people he holds dear. He absolutely hates getting into any kind of real conflict with his friends. There’s that whole side to him that honestly wouldn’t hurt a fly and always has a way to comfort. That’s the side that you get now. 

“I don’t know,” you answer, voice just as quiet. “I’m just…I don’t want to let him win, you know?”

And Jeonghan does know. You’ve been friends since before you started dating Johnny. Even though he never liked him, Jeonghan supported you in your relationship. When Johnny proposed, he called your other friends and set up the best engagement party anyone could ask for. From the outside, nobody would ever know that he hated your partner. Honestly, he’s the best friend anyone in the world could ask for. 

Before he got around to setting up the bridal shower, which he’d been quietly planning for months, your whole world turned upside down. Johnny cheated, had been cheating awhile, actually, and Jeonghan was there to pick up the pieces. Somehow, he was the only one that seemed to make it better, probably because he didn’t want to act like things were okay when they weren’t. It was easy to cry in front of him, easy to be vulnerable, easy to just let the process play out so you could heal. Even though he never liked Johnny, he also didn’t say he told you so. This had never been something that crossed his mind. 

“Okay, you’re gonna hate it, but I have an idea,” Jeonghan says.

“Those are never comforting words coming from you,” slips out of your mouth.

“Usually I’d yell at you, but…” he trails off. 

“I swear, if you’re about to say that we pretend to be dating like some romcom, I will hang up the phone,” you warn.

“First of all, that’s rude, I’m a great boyfriend,” Jeonghan says. 

“I never said you weren’t, Hannie, you know I think you’re gorgeous,” you sigh. 

“That’s true, I am,” Jeonghan says through a laugh.

“But, I also know you remember what an unmitigated disaster it was when we fucked,” you point out, earning an even louder laugh. 

“Wow, and here I thought that it was actually great sex,” he says. 

“I’m not gonna keep stroking your ego, I already admitted you were gorgeous. I don’t need to praise the sex, too,” you declare.

“Stroking my…come on, you’re making it too easy,” Jeonghan points out.

“Funny, because I remember you being the easy one that night,” you say, finally managing to get a shot in.

“I hate you,” Jeonghan snorts. 

“I know,” you answer. “Didn’t you say that you had an idea?” 

Jeonghan clears his throat. “Right, yeah. Well, I know this guy and maybe he can help you out.” 

“What is he, an escort?” you snort out.

“Do you want my help or not?” Jeonghan asks.

“Yoon Jeonghan, are you about to set me up with an escort?” you challenge.

“No, of course not, just trust me,” he says.

Just trust me might be the three most terrifying words that could come out of Jeonghan’s mouth, especially when you’re not usually on the receiving end of his schemes. It’s not like you have much choice, though. The wedding is in six weeks and you have to find a solution, fast. So, what choice do you have other than trusting your best friend? How could this go wrong? 

You still think this is a terrible idea, yet agree to meet Jeonghan’s friend, Joshua, anyway. Apparently, he’s somewhat new to the area, doesn’t know many people, and is incredibly easy to be around. There’s no mention of why Jeonghan thinks he might be willing to pretend to be your boyfriend. A part of you wonders if your friend even told him, but he’s not that cruel. So, whatever the case, Joshua must at least have some idea of what he’s walking into. 

Several days pass between the nightmare of a call from Johnny and you actually meeting Joshua, which only adds to your anxiety about whether or not this is going to work. Johnny is asking for a name for the seating chart and for dinner selections. Your mom wants to know when they’ll be able to meet this new boyfriend before the wedding (because “meeting him for the first time at a wedding is gauche” and we wouldn’t want that). Your sister is convinced that he doesn’t actually exist since you haven’t posted him on social media. That you can at least answer to say that not everyone posts their entire life online like she does. It doesn’t seem to allay her suspicions, though. 

Then, there’s the fact that you’re actually meeting Joshua for the first time at dinner. All you wanted was to go for coffee, yet he insisted. You couldn’t exactly press the point. Not when you’re planning to ask this stranger to pretend to date you just so that you can avoid the embarrassment at your ex’s wedding. On top of that, because Jeonghan really is a demon at his core, you don’t know what Joshua looks like. Don’t know who to look for. Which leads to you doing the only sensible thing and showing up 5 minutes late for dinner, hoping that he’ll already be at the table when you get there.

It works.

When you give the reservation name at the host stand, you’re immediately led back to a table. Without even thinking about it, you smooth your hands down the front of your dress, looking for a small amount of comfort in this situation. It’s not even that you struggle around new people, this is just…well, it’s a lot. It’s out of anyone’s comfort zone. Whatever you’re expecting, it’s not the man sitting at the table the host leads you to. He nearly stops you in your tracks. 

His black hair is perfectly styled down to the pieces on one side that come down over his forehead. The black dress shirt he wears is open at least one button too many, but he makes the exposed chest look work in a way models would envy. Even though his pants are black as well, he makes it look classic and effortless, rather than too dark. That’s all without even acknowledging the soft smile on his face. This man would break a thousand hearts without even saying a damn word. While you’re appreciating him, you miss the way his eyes rake over you appreciatively. Miss the way his eyes trace your curves and the way the dress clings to you. 

In one fluid motion, he’s standing up to greet you, a gentle kiss placed on your cheek. Is it weird if your knees are a little weak? Well, even if it is, there’s nothing you can do. You’re completely captivated. 

“You must be Joshua,” you say. Brilliant, you think. That’s obvious.

“It’s nice to meet you. Jeonghan had nothing but good things to say,” he answers with another smile as he pulls your seat out for you. 

“I feel like he hardly told me about you,” you respond. Joshua raises a perfect eyebrow at that.

“Then why did you agree to go out with me?” Joshua asks. 

“Go out with…is this a date?” The question comes tumbling out. 

Joshua’s eyes widen in genuine confusion. “Is it not?” 

“What, exactly, did Jeonghan say to you?” 

A lot and nothing at all, it turns out. Joshua tells you about how he’s somewhat new to the area, which you knew. About how he met Jeonghan through work, kind of. They work in the same building doing very different things and happened to run into each other getting coffee a handful of times before Jeonghan introduced himself. The two had hung out several times, something Jeonghan had not really mentioned, and gotten to know each other over drinks more than once. The very first time, Jeonghan had mentioned you and Joshua admits immediately being intrigued without pressing for more information. 

In any case, Jeonghan talked about you pretty freely, a fact that’s hardly surprising. Before Joshua texted you, Jeonghan had mentioned, in what Joshua calls an offhand way, that you were sick of dating the same people. According to Joshua, through Jeonghan, you were looking to possibly be set up. (Read: Jeonghan thinks he’s crafty and isn’t going to come out and tell this man what you’re really looking for. Typical Jeonghan, honestly. You know that “offhand comment” was anything but. And you had the audacity to think Jeonghan would have to tell Joshua what he’s getting into. Rookie move.)

Now you’re in a bit of an awkward situation because this man is honestly gorgeous, one of the prettiest humans you’ve ever met. And, already, he seems like he might be sweet with a pretty good sense of humor. It’s just…well, you’re absolutely not looking for a relationship and this is the last person you want to get involved in your mess. Thankfully, you get a moment to catch your breath when someone comes by to take a drink order and suggest an appetizer. It’s just enough time for you to talk yourself into telling Joshua the real story.

To his credit, he only looks mildly surprised as you outline your whole situation, inform him that yes, Jeonghan does know all of this, and clarify why you didn’t actually realize it was a date. It’s hard to miss the way his eyes seem to sparkle a bit when you also admit that he’s absolutely stunning in a way that hurts your feelings. Easier to miss is the way his face barely falls when you say that you’re not actually looking for something right now. Interesting. 

“So that’s the whole thing and now that I’ve embarrassed myself in front of you, I’m sure you’ll understand if we never see each other after tonight,” you finish.

“How am I supposed to go to a wedding as your boyfriend in a matter of weeks if we don’t see each other after tonight?” Joshua wonders.

“I…what?” you sputter out. 

“Well, sure, we need to work out a few details, but I’m game,” Joshua says with a shrug.

“I’m sorry, I think I’m just really confused?” You don’t even have food yet and this is already the most interesting date you’ve been on, possibly ever. 

“I, uh, may have left a part of my past out when I was sharing what Jeonghan knew about me,” Joshua says. “And honestly, I can’t believe I didn’t catch it or that he did this. I’d be mad if I wasn’t so impressed by how crafty it was.” 

“I’m going to need you to connect some dots for me,” you admit. “Oh and also never tell Jeonghan you appreciate him being crafty. His ego is too big as it is.”

“The first time Jeonghan and I hung out, we went out for drinks, got a little wasted, and I told him about how I got through my university studies without any debts,” Joshua says, pausing long enough for someone to set the appetizer down. “He’s observant, Jeonghan, I’ll give him that. He noticed I had designer clothes, shoes, that kind of thing. And he noticed I didn’t pay attention to the prices of the drinks. So I made a vague comment about being lucky to have found a way through my studies without taking out loans.”

“I’m sure he asked you about that, he loves it when he thinks there’s a scheme,” you note with a smile.

“You’re right about that,” Joshua agrees. “So I, well I told him. When I was in school, I met this woman out one night and she paid me to go to events with her. She wanted, and these were her words, ‘someone young and hot’ with her. And the next four years, that’s what I did. I let people pay for me to go to events with them. Never more than that. I was clear that I wasn’t selling sex or anything, just company.” 

You lean back in your seat with an appraising look. “An entrepreneur from the beginning.” 

“Hey, no judgment,” Joshua says. All you can do is smile.

“I’m not judging, that was really smart and you’re obviously attractive enough for it,” you acknowledge.

“Thank you,” Joshua says. It doesn’t have the air of cockiness Jeonghan’s answer would. He actually seems sincere in accepting the compliment. 

“But, I’m still not going to pay you to pretend to be my boyfriend,” you say, even if it’s a bit reluctant. 

“I wasn’t asking you to,” Joshua shrugs. “You don’t have to pay me.”

“Why would you offer to pretend to do something like this? You don’t even know me,” you point out.

“No, I don’t. But, you seem like a good person. And I like Jeonghan, he’s nice…” Joshua says, stopping when you try to cover a scoff. 

“Nice?” you question when you’re caught.

“Wrong word choice,” Joshua dismisses. “He seems like the kind of person that’s a loyal friend, like he would go into battle to protect you. Like someone you can actually trust.”

“He is all of those things, yeah,” you admit.

“And if those things are true, then him holding you out as his best friend means you’re probably all of those things too,” Joshua reasons. 

“I try to be,” you agree. 

“Plus, Jeonghan did mention you had seriously dated someone that was pretty rich, so I figure it’s probably the guy getting married and it’ll be a nice wedding,” Joshua says with a smile. The joke is obvious by the look in his eyes.

“It’s interesting that he mentioned Johnny, that’s my ex, being rich,” you idly comment.

“Is he not?” Joshua wonders.

“Jeonghan is a lot of things, but he’d never lie to his friends,” you answer first. “So, yeah, he is. Well, his family is at least. His mom and mine run a lot of events together, like galas and shit. That’s how we all know each other.”

“Are you rich, too?” Joshua wonders. There’s that little twinkle of something in his eyes again, but there’s also sincerity.

“I’m still not paying you,” you retort.

“Fine,” Joshua agrees. 

You roll your eyes. “Okay, so what’s the plan?” 

There’s a weird world’s colliding feeling to having both Jeonghan and Joshua in your apartment. But, Jeonghan doesn’t like to be left out of things. Once you told him that you and Joshua both knew about his scheming, he offered to help in any way he could. Which is likely just so he’s included. You’ll take what you can get. Now, it means that he and Joshua are sitting on your couch, scrolling through pictures on Joshua’s phone to decide what to include in an instagram post. That’s the first step you and Joshua agreed on. If you’re going to sell this whole fake relationship, then your sister actually is right. There has to be some sort of proof of it online. Which also means that your post has to talk about how you’ve been keeping it quiet and just enjoying getting to know each other without any pressure. Jeonghan takes credit for that, even if you got there on your own. 

“I think I like this one,” Jeonghan says and turns the phone around to show you. 

“Why that one?” you ask. 

“Why not? Don’t you like it?” Joshua worries.

“I don’t know, I feel like my hand is doing something weird,” you point out.

“You look great,” Joshua assures you.

“Oh, ew, you’re not really dating,” Jeonghan complains. 

“You do know you’re going to have to stop saying that, right?” you ask.

“Maybe I didn’t know either,” Jeonghan shrugs.

“No, I’m with her, you’re her best friend and you definitely would’ve known,” Joshua agrees. 

“Why are you on her side already?” Jeonghan whines.

“Because she’s cool and she’s not the one who knew what I did in college and set me up,” Joshua says with a laugh. 

This is how it’s been going for the last hour. You’re not really much for putting a lot of effort into your posts, so this all feels like too much. But, you know that it’s important for it to feel real and it’s important to get it right. You’re honestly pretty happy to just let the guys take the lead and go with the flow of it all. There are going to be plenty of opportunities for you to take the lead. You’re going to take your breaks where you can. 

(That had also meant not putting up too much of a fight when Jeonghan told you to bring multiple outfits with you. Or when you had to change your hairstyle and makeup between the photos so it looked like they hadn’t all been taken the same day. Honestly, this was so much easier for Joshua. Then again, he’s the one doing you a favor. So maybe you can let him have it.)

After you finally get your couple pictures posted, and get a flurry of messages ranging from surprise to congratulations, you move onto preparing Joshua to meet your parents, your sister, and her husband. Jeonghan is actually a lot of help with that because he’s been around them a lot. Well, he’s helpful after he tries to scare Joshua about how intimidating it’s going to be only to give up when Joshua is unbothered. He’s so calm about everything that it’s actually kind of nice to be around. And he has no problem firing back at Jeonghan, which is really fun to watch. 

You go through what your parents are like, what they do both for work and as hobbies. Joshua perks up at the mention of your dad loving music and sometimes spending his weekends just exploring new venues. It seems like there might be more to that, though you don’t press when he waves it off. It’s different when you talk about your sister, two years younger and already married. Not that you’re dying to be married or even care that she got married before you. That’s always seemed like a weird societal expectation, anyway. What does it matter when anyone gets married? If it’s their right person, then it makes sense. You being upset over your failed engagement really doesn’t have anything to do with your sister’s marriage, despite her instance it does. 

It becomes obvious that you’re losing Jeonghan’s attention when you turn down his request to start playing games or watch a movie. It’s not that you don’t want to do those things, it’s just that you have a lot to cover in far less time than you realized. Sure, the wedding is still weeks away. What’s not weeks away is your first dinner with your family. That’s going to be around the corner. The least you could do, you figured, was plan a time before posting pictures on instagram. So, Jeonghan asks if it’s okay to leave and you almost sigh in relief. This will be easier without an extra person.

“Not to pry, but what’s the deal with you and Jeonghan?” Joshua asks when you settle back on the couch with a glass of wine. 

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“I don’t know, I feel like I was picking up on something,” Joshua shrugs.

“We’re really just friends,” you assure him.

“Sometimes those are the best…” Joshua starts.

“Don’t,” you cut off. He worries for a second before he realizes you’re smiling. “We did try. Not so much a try, I guess, but we slept together maybe 6 months after Johnny and I broke it off and it just wasn’t it.” 

“You and him slept together?” Joshua questions.

“Is that weird for you?” you ask.

“No, it’s just interesting that you’re still so close,” Joshua observes.

“I guess,” you say with a shrug. “He’s great, obviously attractive, but we just, I don’t know. I didn���t feel anything. Neither did he. So, staying friends seemed like the right choice.”

“Interesting,” is all Joshua says. “Have you dated anyone seriously since Johnny?” 

“Not that seriously, no,” you admit. “I’ve gone on dates with different people and some of them stuck around for a bit, but nothing serious.” 

“Not finding the right people?” Joshua presses.

“I just haven’t found anyone that made me feel like Johnny did at the beginning or even like I did when he proposed,” you say. 

“I can understand that, even if I don’t really get it. You’re gorgeous, anyone would be lucky,” he says smoothly. You cover a blush with a slight eye roll. 

“I guess that’s why most of my close friends will also believe that I kept a new relationship on the low. They saw me post-Johnny and have seen me try to date,” you share.

“Yeah that’s good for us, at least,” Joshua agrees.

“What about you, though? When was your last relationship?” you ask.

“Ah, well it’s been a little over a year,” Joshua says. 

“Bad ending?” you wonder. You’re not sure why you press him on it.

“It wasn’t great,” Joshua says with a chuckle. “She, uh, well she decided that she just really would rather be with one of my friends than with me.”

“I’m so sorry you went through that,” you say, suddenly sorry.

“No, no, it’s fine,” he says. “She didn’t actually cheat on me, but she had started getting close to him and sharing everything with him.”

“Arguably worse, in my opinion. Emotional cheating is still a thing,” you say, trying to offer comfort. 

“Thank you,” Joshua says. His eyes are soft and full of care. “And, like you, I have dated since then, just nothing worth talking about.” 

It’s an easy transition from that into talking about your backgrounds. Like speed dating, except somehow more intense. You learn Joshua’s birthday, his parents names, that he’s an only child, and where he grew up. Nothing is too small and you joke about taking notes before you actually go to get a notebook. Joshua tells you his favorite color and his favorite food, tells you about his favorite memories, favorite places where he grew up, and favorite places he’s found since moving here. There’s a way that his face lights up when he talks about his friends that’s drawing you in. You tell him the same. That all feels a little surface level, which you point out. If this is going to work, it has to be deeper, more serious. 

That’s when something seems to almost break down. Joshua suggests that you tell each other the deep stuff, the things that you don’t always admit to someone you’re dating. Or, maybe you admit it and don’t get into the reasons why. When Joshua goes first and admits that he’s happiest when he’s playing his guitar, even if nobody else is listening, his whole face changes. It’s like a completely different version of him. He’s got an open face as it is, that hasn’t changed, but you realize maybe he’s a little guarded behind the smile as well. Maybe there really is more depth than he wants anyone to realize. Maybe this is going to be more interesting than you thought.

“Can I hear you play?” you ask. His face is adorable with his eyes full of surprise.

“You want to hear me play?” There’s an emotion you can’t place when he looks at you.

“I love music, too, Joshua,” you say softly. “I’d love to see what you’re passionate about.”

“Oh, well, I usually play at this acoustic night on Thursdays at a coffee shop downtown,” Joshua tells you.

“You do? That’s so cute!” you say before second guessing it. He looks away like he’s a little embarrassed and you worry for a split second.

“I’d love it if you came by,” he says.

“It’s a shame that we can’t say that’s where we met,” you admit.

“Wait, that would be a good idea, actually,” Joshua says and you smile. 

“It would be, but I also know events like that. It’s always a similar crowd so I’m sure someone will know that I’ve never been,” you reason. 

“Fair point,” Joshua concedes. 

“Why don’t we just say we met on a dating app?” you suggest and Joshua pulls up his face. “Okay, I know apps are lame and honestly, I don’t use them much. But, think about it. That’s the perfect reason why we didn’t bring it up until now, we didn’t want to answer the ‘where did you meet’ question by saying an app.” 

“Okay, yeah, I do actually like that because it’s easy and it doesn’t feel like a wild story,” Joshua says. 

“What about your parents?” you ask. “Do we need to make plans to meet them if you’re also posting about me?” 

“We can figure that out, but they live pretty far away so it would probably just be over FaceTime or something,” he says.

“I also understand if you don’t want to do that because we’re just pretending,” you suggest. 

“No, it’d be cool to have you meet them. Even if the relationship isn’t real, I’d like to be friends for real, so that’s not a total lie,” Joshua reasons. 

“I’d like to be friends too,” you agree. “How long have you been living here, now?” 

“Oh, um, like 8 months?” Joshua says like a question.

“I was figuring like a month or two with the way Jeonghan talks about you,” you laugh. 

“You’ve been friends with him for years, you’re not actually surprised,” Joshua points out. 

“Okay so now I guess we have to figure out when we started dating,” you comment.

“And everything else, but we can do it,” Joshua says. 

You’re a little nervous sitting on your couch waiting for Joshua to show up. Even though you offered to pick him up for dinner with your family tonight, he insisted on being the one to drive. Of course he’s right on time, which you’re already realizing is a trait of his. He’s even a gentleman when he opens the door for you, just like he pulled the chair out the first time you met for the date-not-date. As you put your seatbelt on, you notice that there are a few things in the backseat. 

“What’s all that?” you ask as he slides into the driver’s seat. 

“Flowers for your mom, a bottle of scotch for your dad, and a cheese board for your sister because you said they just moved and she likes to host,” Joshua lists off as if it’s nothing.

“You did not have to get things for all of them,” you point out. 

“Of course I did, but I also wanted to. I’m trying to make a good impression,” he says, making your heart a little light.

“That’s so kind,” you whisper out.

“Oh, I thought of something else,” Joshua shifts. You’re worried you made him uncomfortable until he speaks again. “Are you a pet name person in relationships?”

That makes you snort, something that would embarrass you in any other situation. It’s not the first time he’s heard it, though. “That depends on what you want to call me.”

“That’s a dangerous way to say that,” Joshua answers. His eyes are still on the road, yet you don’t miss the way he reacts.

“I don’t like overly cutesy names,” you say to diffuse a little bit of the moment. “Like, I don’t know, if you want to call me sugarplum or honeybunch or something like that, please don’t.”

“You’re just giving me ideas to take away my fun,” he pouts.

“Well, what were you thinking of calling me? Or are you even a pet name person?” you ask.

“I do like them,” Joshua says. “I’m not sure that I have a go-to or anything. For you, I might say angel or possibly darling.”

“I think I prefer angel, if I’m allowed to pick,” you say after a moment.

“Of course,” Joshua replies. Studying his face, you’re looking for a hint of mocking or insincerity, but there’s nothing to find. This is just him.

“Do you want me to use a pet name for you?” you wonder.

“I’d happily take one, no pressure, though,” he says. 

“I’ll have to think about it,” you tell him. “Something generic like babe doesn’t feel right.”

“Are you saying I’m special?” Now you can hear the light teasing in his voice. 

“I take it back, any more compliments are going to go to your head,” you huff out. 

As you get closer to your parents’ house, you start to bounce your knee with an excess of nervous energy. It’s not until Joshua reaches a hand out to take one of yours that you’re even sure you’re doing it. There’s something calming about it, though. Nothing about him reaching out feels like he’s trying to stop you, just show that you’re not alone in this. Which is more than welcome. The last person you brought to meet your parents was Johnny. Given how that ended and why Joshua is around in the first place, it’s not exactly the most comforting thought.

Once you pull up to their house, you take a deep breath. It’s only to settle your rising nerves, but it also serves to give Joshua enough time to come and open your door. Even though you’ve told him that he doesn’t need to be this sweet, he insists. Without saying a word, he holds out a hand to help you out of the car. Instead of dropping your hand once you’re out, he uses it to pull you into him and wraps his arms around you. There’s this immediate sense of comfort, like you have actually been dating for months. You inhale his cologne without meaning to, something warm and woodsy. 

“It’s going to be fine, parents love me,” he assures you when you pull away.

“I don’t doubt that,” you say, releasing the breath you were holding and your tension with it. 

“So come on, my little granola wrapper, let’s go,” Joshua says as he lets you go to get the gifts out of his backseat. 

It takes you a full few seconds to register what came out of his mouth. “I’m sorry, what did you just call me?” 

“Is that not the one?” he asks, eyes alight with some kind of mischief. 

“I’m not going to encourage this,” you huff.

“Whatever you say, jellybean,” he throws out casually. 

The second you step into the house, you see exactly what Joshua means. Your mother is fawning over him in a matter of seconds, your father is making plans to show him his records, your sister’s husband is asking when they can go out for drinks, and your sister even holds back the snark. All during the course of the pre-dinner drinks and largely, you think, due to the gifts that Joshua brought. He had a reason for the meaning behind the type of flowers for your mother, a favorite musician who swore by the scotch for your dad, and even bought the cheese board from a small business that customized things. 

Dinner comes along and you still feel like you’ve barely said anything with Joshua masterfully steering the conversation. He even makes it sound good that you met on an app, with his improvised story of wanting to meet people in a new city. According to him, he wasn’t expecting to meet someone like you and was done for the second he saw you sitting at dinner. It’s something real, that you met him for dinner the first time at a fancy downtown restaurant. And you realize you never actually asked what his impression was that first night. More than once, you catch yourself watching his profile as he talks to one of your family members. Everything about him is at ease and you wonder if it really is all fake. Not that you think anything about him is disingenuous, he’s just really good at making people like him. 

The only hiccup doesn’t come until your mother is pulling out dessert. According to your sister, she’s got an excellent pie in the refrigerator that you simply have to try. You’re about to say something when Joshua beats you to it. 

“I don’t think my little sugarplum likes fruit pies, but it sounds amazing and I’d love a piece,” Joshua interjects smoothly. 

Your sister nearly spits out her drink, whether it’s at the nickname or him speaking up for you, you’re not sure. In any other situation, you would scold him for the name, but you’re a little stunned he remembers you don’t like pie. It came up once in a rapid fire of likes and dislikes. 

“You’re right, she doesn’t,” your sister agrees. “I’d almost forgotten.” 

(That’s when you’re sure it was another of your sister’s tests. Trying to catch you in some kind of lie about your relationship. But, it doesn’t work and you feel a little victorious for that.)

The doorbell rings through the house and you look to your mother, silently asking if she’s expecting someone. It’s unusual for them to have company calling this late on a Friday night. It’s usually reserved for dinners with friends or family or galas. Unsurprisingly, your mother doesn’t seem to know who it could be, but disappears to answer the door all the same. When a voice drifts through from the hallway, you freeze on the spot.

“I really just came by to drop that off for my mom, I didn’t realize it was so late. I’d hate to intrude on dessert,” the guest says. 

“Nonsense, you’re not interrupting,” your mother insists. 

“I saw an unfamiliar car, so I figured you might have guests,” he says as they come through the doorway into the living area. 

Your heart stutters a little in your chest, feels heavier for seeing him. Somehow he looks taller and broader than the last time you saw him. He’s wearing his hair shorter and he looks more mature, somehow, like he’s seen so much more of the world than when you were together. Which is probably true, if you think about it. It’s been a couple years and that means he’s had more time working with his father. 

“That would be my car,” Joshua says, getting to his feet immediately and extending his hand. “I’m Joshua.” 

“Johnny,” he answers and shakes Joshua’s hand. Yet, his face looks a little tense and his eyes mostly stay on you. 

“It’s just family,” your mother shares, though Johnny can obviously see that himself, “since our darling daughter finally brought Joshua around to meet us.” 

“I’m glad she did, dinner was wonderful and the company was even better,” Joshua says with a smile at your mother. She nearly blushes at his compliment. 

“Oh, hush,” your mother says with a wave of her hand. “I was just getting some pie if you’d like to stay for a piece, Johnny. Although, I’d hate to keep you from home.”

Joshua sits back down next to you, a little closer than is strictly necessary, and puts his arm along the back of the couch behind you. You feel safe pressed up against his side like that. Johnny clears his throat when he looks away from the pair of you. “Gabby has been out of town all week, actually, so I’m going back to an empty home anyway. I’d love to stay for a piece of your famous cherry pie.” 

“Great!” your mother says and disappears off into the kitchen. 

“What’s got Gabby away?” your sister asks. 

“Just a conference,” Johnny answers. “There was a final banquet tonight and she’ll be home tomorrow.” 

“She’s busy, away this week, bachelorette next weekend,” she says offhand. 

“Keeping tabs on when everything is?” you ask of your sister. She looks at you like you’re crazy and Johnny looks awkward.

“No, I was invited to it,” your sister answers evenly. 

Before you can even answer, Joshua is speaking up. Probably sensing your discomfort. After all, you hadn’t gotten to tell him that Johnny’s fiance is friends with your younger sister. They had gone to school together and been close. Stealing her sister’s fiancée doesn’t seem to have impacted the friendship. 

“You must be excited with the big day getting so close,” Joshua says. He moves his arm from behind you so that he can take your hand on your thigh. It makes you look down at your hands before glancing at him, only to find his gaze on you already. It also means you miss the way Johnny follows the movement. 

“Uh, yeah, I mean, I’m definitely excited. It’s just been a lot of planning,” Johnny says. 

“I bet,” Joshua says. “Thank you so much for inviting me, I know how stressful changes can be.” 

“It’s no problem, I’m happy you’ll both be there,” Johnny says. 

With almost a practiced subtlety, Joshua squeezes your hand. There’s so much in that one movement. A reassurance, a reminder to breathe, a reminder that he’s there, a promise that everything is going to be okay. Your heart hurts seeing Johnny sitting in the living room so casually as if nothing happened, but it doesn’t hurt as much as you expected. Maybe that has something to do with this impossibly kind, completely idiotic person next to you. You also can’t help the way your gaze lands on him. Just in profile, at first, before he senses your look and turns to you with a dazzling smile. It’s like there’s nobody else in the world but the two of you.

The conversation shifts slightly when your mother comes back in with a tray full of pie slices and your father comes back with whatever record he was looking for to show Joshua. Just like that, you survive your first in-person interaction with Johnny. Actually come out of it feeling like you might be able to handle this. The smile you send Joshua while he’s eating his pie is so fond that you’re not even sure who you are. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t call me last night,” Jeonghan says in lieu of a hello.

“Hello to you too, I’m good, thanks for asking,” you retort.

“Greetings are for people who remember their best friends, not for people who send a single sentence recap after bringing their fake boyfriend home to meet the family,” Jeonghan states immediately.

“That’s a very long rule,” you note.

“Deserved, though,” Jeonghan says.

“I was tired, Han, it was a long night,” you explain.

“A long night where your ex showed up,” he reminds you.

“That actually wasn’t so bad,” you admit. “Joshua made it feel pretty easy.”

“Oh did he now?” 

You don’t have to be in the same room as Jeonghan to hear the expression on his face when he says that. “It was just easy, Jeonghan, nothing more than that.”

“What did your parents think?” he asks, switching gears.

“They loved him, like actually loved him. My mom was enamored and kept calling him handsome. My dad was talking about music with him and making plans to go check out some acoustic music venue. Even the ice queen couldn’t find anything to fault him for,” you share.

“She’s less of an ice queen and more of a mean girl and a bitch,” Jeonghan adds.

“You said it,” you mumble.

“I mean, come on, who thinks it’s okay for their friend to sleep with their sister’s fiancé? And then stays friends with the girl?” Jeonghan gets really defensive with this. He would ride for you to the ends of the world, which you do love. Just not today. 

“I don’t wanna relive that whole thing, it’s done and over. Nothing to do now,” you say, weariness seeping into your voice.

“Would you want to do anything about it?” Jeonghan asks.

“What do you mean?” You answer the question with a question.

“Like would you want to go back to when you were with Johnny?” Jeonghan asks.

You think about it for half a second. “No.” 

“That was fast,” Jeonghan comments.

“What’s there to go back to? He made his choice and I’m fine, honestly. It was weird seeing him and hearing him talk about his wedding, but it wasn’t as bad as I thought,” you say.

“Is that because of your Prince Charming?” Your best friend, always doing the most, puts this question into a sing-song voice. 

“He’s not a Prince Charming. You’re so annoying,” you scoff. 

“I don’t know, he sure seems to be saving you,” Jeonghan presses. 

“I can’t with…” you start, trailing off at the knock on your door.

“Who’s there?” Jeonghan asks. 

“No clue,” you answer, getting off your couch to go see. 

“I bet it’s Prince Charming,” Jeonghan laughs out.

“Would you fuck…” you begin as you open the door to find the very subject of your conversation on the other side, “off.”

“I’m right aren’t I?” Jeonghan is nearly shrieking with glee.

“Sorry, gotta go,” you say.

“Oh no, no, no,” Jeonghan tries.

You’re stepping aside to let Joshua into your apartment. “I’ll see you tomorrow for brunch.”

“Let me know if I need to add one more to the reservation,” Jeonghan says. 

“Goodbye,” you say with an eye roll Jeonghan can’t see, but will surely hear. You hang up as soon as he also says goodbye.

“Jeonghan?” Joshua guesses.

“Unfortunately,” you confirm. 

“I hope I wasn’t interrupting,” Joshua says. It’s nothing like when someone says it out of forced courtesy. He actually seems like he’s making sure he’s not intruding. 

“No, not at all, I just wasn’t expecting you,” you admit. 

“Sometimes that’s the best time to come over,” Joshua says with a shrug.

“Does that mean you have a plan?” you wonder.

“Yup,” Joshua says.

“Gonna tell me what it is?” you ask.

“Nope,” he says with a concerning smile, popping the end of nope. “Go put on something comfortable but with layers. And we’re not going hiking or anything like that.” 

An hour later, you’re pulling off the road in an area you’ve never been to, even with as long as you’ve lived here. The views are instantly enough to take your breath away. You can see the whole city below you, all the bustle of traffic and skyscrapers. Somewhere, you know there are people rushing to and fro, too busy to stop and appreciate what’s around them. Straight ahead, you can see the way the low clouds glide around, splitting around the very tops of the buildings. It’s beautiful and it also makes you realize just how small you are. 

While you’ve been appreciating the views in front of you, Joshua has been gathering his supplies from the trunk. By the time you turn around, he’s laying a blanket and basket down on the ground in front of the car. 

“Is this…did you set up a picnic?” you ask.

“I wanted to show you this place and figured some food might be nice,” he says with an easy smile. 

“That’s so sweet,” you say earnestly.

You settle on the blanket next to him and look through the food he’s pulling out. There are some of your favorite things and some things you’re not even sure you’ve seen before. Somehow, though, you feel like they might become some of your new favorites. He even brought plates and he sets about putting one together for you to pick at.

Joshua tells you about how this is his favorite place and he found it completely by accident. He loves being down in the city and around all the people, but there’s something nice about seeing things from this perspective too. It’s like he can just disconnect for a while. Turn off his phone. Read or listen to music. Just be totally alone. It’s how he works through a problem or gets the perspective he needs.

“I can’t believe you’re sharing it with me,” you admit and his eyes light up with his smile.

“I just thought, after last night, you might appreciate having a place to get away from it all,” Joshua says.

You want to say something, anything, really, to acknowledge what Joshua just said. Try to say something. Your throat doesn’t want to cooperate, it seems. Your brain, either. In fact, all you can manage to do is turn away to hide the tears. Joshua is observant, though. He doesn’t say anything, just pulls you into his chest and runs his hand along your back. He quietly soothes you as you cry out a lot of emotions you didn’t even realize you were experiencing. 

And something about him comforting you, this near stranger who doesn’t actually owe you anything, sets you off more. In the early days of your relationship with Johnny, you know it was good. It must have been. Surely, it was more than a relationship between two people who had known each other for years with families that were intertwined. You don’t remember it anymore. Don’t remember him ever holding you like this without even knowing what was wrong. Don’t remember him taking you on a date like this just because he thought you would enjoy it. Since you haven’t seriously dated anyone since the break-up, he also feels like your only frame of reference. That makes you sad for an entirely different reason. Who loses it over someone just being a little kind?

“I’m so sorry,” you finally say when you manage to pull yourself together. 

“For what?” he asks. 

“For just crying like that and being such a mess,” you say. 

Joshua shakes his head. Moves his hand up to your face and waits for confirmation that it’s okay. When you nod, he gently wipes the tears from under your eyes. “You have nothing to apologize for. What you’re going through with your ex, most of us could never even imagine that kind of pain.”

“But still, you barely know me and here you are trying to be kind and all I can do is cry,” you say. 

“First of all, I think last night and the food I put together show I’ve actually learned a lot about you in a short time,” he says and you have to laugh at that. He’s right. “Second, I’m just happy you feel safe enough with me to cry. It’s not healthy to hold all that in. You’re not in this alone.”

That brings you up short more than anything. He’s right, again (an annoying habit, if you’re being honest). You don’t feel any hesitation around him. Nothing to stop you from crying if you feel like crying. That’s unusual, to say the least. Normally, you’ll do anything to avoid anyone seeing you emotional. But, this man you just met is different. He’s safe. You’re not sure how or why, but you know you can trust him. 

“Are you free tomorrow for brunch?” you ask. Joshua gives you a quizzical look for a moment at the sudden topic change. 

“Yeah, why?” he asks. 

“I just need to send one quick text and then I want to do what you said you normally do here. Disconnect from the world and just appreciate the afternoon,” you say and find yourself smiling along with his smile. He really is so beautiful. 

You: add one to the reservation for brunch tomorrow and i’ll call you tonight when i’m home

You switch your phone into Do Not Disturb before the response comes and turn all your attention back to Joshua. 

Over the next couple weeks, Joshua slips seamlessly into your life and your existing friendships. Some of them, like those closest to you that come along to the Sunday brunches, know the whole story. It’s not like they would believe you had kept a relationship secret for that long, anyway. And it’s good to have a few extra sets of eyes and ears helping to sell the story. Other friends get the same story that your family and Johnny got. It’s not that you don’t trust them, you do. It’s more important to keep the circle of people who know the real story as small as possible, though, so that it actually succeeds. All your friends adore him from the second they meet him. The only surprise is how well Jeonghan seems to be adjusting to sharing your time. He wants to give you a hard time, yet he doesn’t. 

You meet all Joshua’s friends and coworkers, too. It feels way easier than it should the first time you join him and his coworkers after work for drinks. They spend most of the time giving Joshua a hard time that he’s kept you to himself for so long. It’s easy to fall into step and you find that you do know him a lot better than you think. So, it’s just as easy for you to jump in when they’re giving him a hard time. He pretends to be annoyed, but you can tell by the way he smiles that he likes it. It’s one of those genuine smiles that makes his eyes bigger and brighter. Everything just feels…easy. Like this whole thing wasn’t actually a bad idea after all. 

Your favorite part might be the first time you got with him to an Open Mic Night and get to see him play. He’s got that easy kind of confidence on the guitar. Like he knows he’s talented, but not in a cocky way. It’s his singing that catches you off guard. His voice moves over the notes with an ease that makes you wonder why this isn’t something he’s doing for a living. He’s got this way of pulling you into songs that you don’t even know. And he’s so kind with the people that show up just to see him play. They all seem just as happy to meet you and know that he’s happy. 

There’s only been one part that’s been difficult. Not difficult, exactly, but not as comfortable as some of the other things. While you and Joshua talked through anything and everything to prepare to start a fake relationship, you covered comfort levels with physical affection. You both say you’re comfortable with physical touch, though he seems to seek it out more than you do. That includes at least some level of PDA as a couple. You’ve never really been one to just randomly make out with a partner in public, but you’ve never been shy about expressing affection either. It was fine, when it was all theoretical. 

In actual practice, it’s been a little more difficult. The first time Joshua had pressed a kiss to the side of your head while you were out with people that didn’t know it was fake caught you off guard. It shouldn’t have, he asked before doing it and you confirmed it was fine. What you hadn’t been entirely prepared for was how it would feel when he did it. Or how it would feel that he was so casual about it, like it was the most normal thing in the world. Like it wasn’t making you rethink everything in your life. 

Tonight, you’re hanging out with friends at Hyejin’s house. You and her have been friends since before you even started school. So, she knows what’s really going on with Joshua. Your other friends there, though, are mostly not in on it. Which is fine. You’re shockingly comfortable with the song and dance. 

It’s not actually fine. 

It starts the same as any other time you’ve been out somewhere with him. You’re sitting close together on the couch, thighs pressed together, with his arm behind you along the back of the couch. Periodically, his fingers play with the sleeve of your shirt. It’s an absentminded habit and you’re used to it. He’s usually keeping some sort of contact with you in a very subtle way. You learned right away that he did like physical touch, but it was rarely something obvious. One drink in and his affection got a little more obvious. Arm wrapped firmly around you. More kisses pressed to the side of your head. 

Two drinks in and it changes again. He removes his arm from around you in favor of holding your hand. Playing with your fingers while he’s having other conversations, like he doesn’t even realize. Hand squeezing your thigh. Or tracing patterns into the material of your pants. Head dropping down on your shoulder when he’s not talking to someone else. And it’s definitely not fine. You’re nursing your drink, but even if you weren’t, his constant presence would sober you. Since you’ve just finally finished your first, you think maybe a second is a good idea.

It’s not. Joshua gets another drink, his third, and you decline. Instead, you stick with the water you’ve been drinking since you couldn’t even finish your second. You want to be able to respond, whatever happens. Respond to whatever new form of affection unlocks with this next drink. 

“I hope you stick around, you’re my favorite of the partners that we’ve met,” Mimi announces to Joshua when he plops back down next to you. 

You’re glad that you hadn’t taken a sip because it would’ve come out immediately. Mimi has been a friend for a long time as well, and you love her, but she doesn’t know the truth. 

“Don’t I know it,” Joshua agrees, earning a lot of laughter. 

“Have you met Johnny yet? I know you’re going to the wedding,” Taehyung wonders. 

“Yeah Johnny showed up magically the night I brought him by to meet my parents, sister, and brother-in-law,” you say, regaining some composure. 

“I think you traded up,” Joshua says, eyes laser focused on you. 

You’re not so lucky this time and you just took a sip. You nearly choke. “Do you?”

“Definitely,” Joshua insists. 

“I agree,” Jimin says and Mimi elbows him in the side. “What?”

“You’re going to the wedding,” she says. 

“So? He’s a fucking tool,” Jimin shrugs off. 

“Are you all going, then?” Joshua asks. 

“A good portion of us, yeah,” Hyejin says. “Family connections, you know?” 

“I wasn’t invited,” Mimi pouts. 

“Want to come?” Taehyung asks and Mimi laughs. 

“Tae, my love, you can’t just invite people,” Mimi says and shakes her head. 

“I have a plus-one,” Taehyung says with a shrug. “I think we all knew I wouldn’t make it to the wedding in my relationship. But, Johnny still thinks I’m bringing someone.”

“Damn, okay. I’m in,” Mimi says. 

“I’m not going either, my family ties weren’t enough to get an invite,” Jeonghan says without any sorrow in his eyes. 

“That’s because of what you said to him after the break up,” Hyejin interrupts with a laugh. 

“I don’t remember saying anything that bad,” Jeonghan shrugs, and examines his finger nails to show how little he cares. 

“Remind me to show you what he said some time, it was fucking gold,” Hyejin says to Joshua.

“Do you have it saved?” you ask.

“I should have it framed, honestly,” Hyejin says. “Get you a best friend like Jeonghan, for real, for real.” 

“Hey, that’s my best friend, get your own,” you joke. 

“That’s a shame you won’t be there though, Han, I could’ve used the familiar face,” Joshua says.

“Like you’re going to be paying attention to anyone but your date,” Hyejin teases. 

“Can you blame me? I still can’t believe how lucky I got,” Joshua says without any hint that he’s pretending. It makes your heart skip a couple beats as you try to catch your breath. 

“Ugh, I’m so single,” Mimi whines. 

“Maybe not after the wedding,” Hyejin teases. 

The conversations devolve from there into separate, smaller chats. Joshua is back to tracing patterns into your leg. Without warning, he pops his head up and places a quick peck on your lips before dropping his head onto your shoulder again. He’s so nonchalant about it that you’re not really sure it even happened. You’ve kissed a couple times like that, quick pecks in public. But, it’s always been when you’ve talked about it. It isn’t until you look up to meet Jeonghan’s eyes that you know it all really happened. 

Joshua, unaware that he’s just turned your world a little upside down, moves his head to look at you again. “You’re beautiful, you know.”

It’s barely a whisper and you know he’s not drunk. He’s not sober either, though. And you’ve had drinks around each other before. He’s just never been quite so glued to your side or free with the compliments. You’re also not usually so singularly focused on him. A fact that doesn’t go entirely unnoticed. 

“Thank you,” you whisper back. 

“I’m kinda hungry,” he continues in a bit of a whine. 

“Well you were the one who thought skipping dinner was smart,” you tease him. 

“But my little honeybunch,” he teases back. You snort and miss the way several of your friends watch the interaction because they know how you are about weird pet names. 

“Try again, sweetheart,” you answer. 

“Sweetheart, I like the way that sounds,” he says, distracted. 

“Just a little longer and we can leave and get something to eat,” you say and he sighs. 

“Fine,” he concedes and kisses your cheek, just barely a whisper away from the corner of your mouth. 

About half an hour later, you say your goodbyes. Despite your suggestions, Joshua continued drinking instead of switching to water. It’s as fine as it can be, though. He’s just an affectionate drinker. He wraps an arm around you, slipping a hand into your back pocket so that he can whisper thanks again. You do your best to shrug it off and let him drape his arms around your shoulder instead. 

The car ride is quiet, initially. You pick a playlist that he made for you after you first met. Something he seems to enjoy. You’re nearly back at his place when he says that he doesn’t have anything to eat. But, luckily, there’s a place around the corner that he loves that’s still open. He manages to place an order on the app, gets something for you as well, and pays before getting there. All you have to do is walk in. 

“I hope you’ll come in and eat with me,” he says when you get back into the car. 

You’re not really sure how to tell him that you don’t want to. Not because you don’t want to spend time with him. Or that you don’t appreciate him ordering something he knows you’ll like. No, it’s so much deeper than that. It’s that you don’t know if your heart can handle it. You’ve got a couple more weeks of this and your heart is taking a beating. All of this is fake. It’ll be over after the wedding. But, the compliments don’t feel fake. The kisses don’t feel fake. The affection doesn’t feel fake. Your heart racing is real, oh so real. You don’t need anyone to tell you that you’re in way too deep. 

None of that comes out, though. 

“Sure, sweetheart,” you say and hold your breath for a second. You hadn’t meant to say that when it was just you. 

Joshua smiles over at you. “Really do like that.” 

Does he know what he’s doing to you? Can he hear your heart hammering in your chest? Can he hear your breath catch? Does he know how insanely beautiful he is? Or that he’s all the more beautiful because he’s so unfailingly kind? 

Probably not, because he gets distracted and starts singing along as the song changes. It’s welcome, but also a little devastating. His voice cuts through you in a way you’re still very unprepared to handle.

After another few minutes, you’re at Joshua’s place. He springs back into action and tries to open your door for you, even though you’re the driver. He settles for taking hold of your hand as he walks to his door, only reluctantly dropping it when he gets to the door. 

His apartment is familiar to you, it has to be for this to be believable. So, he sets the food out and you grab plates. You grab a couple waters from the fridge while he takes the food over to the couch, bypassing the table. You sit next to him, leaving enough space between you that you’re not touching. Hoping he doesn’t think anything of it. 

It’s useless, apparently, because he slides over to press into your side.

What’s worse (not that you thought that was possible) is that he picks things off of your plate and gives you food off his plate. Tries to feed it to you, actually, and pouts when you don’t let him. It takes everything in you not to beg him to be gentle on your heart. He doesn’t even seem to realize what he’s doing to you as he smiles and jokes. Doesn’t seem to think twice about playing with your hands or his hand on your leg or any of the things he usually does when you have an audience. There’s nobody here to see and he’s not usually this touchy when you’re alone. Maybe it’s the drinks.

“I like your friends a lot, you know,” he says out of nowhere.

“They like you, too,” you assure him.

“What about you?” he asks.

“I’d assume they like me as well,” you laugh out.

“No, I meant me. Do you like me?” he asks, eyes big and vulnerable.

Please, Joshua, I’m begging you. Be gentle with me, you think so loud you’re worried he might hear.

“I’m actually a little sick of you,” you joke. 

“But, but,” he begins and dramatically throws himself in your lap. 

“You’re the worst,” you say without any bite. Your hands find their way into his hair, softly running through the strands.

“That feels nice,” he says softly. “Can I just stay like this? I’m tired.” 

“Of course,” you whisper.

“You’ll stay with me?” he asks, sounding like he’s about to drift off.

You’re sure he won’t remember any of this. Not because he’s drunk, but he’s on the edges of sleep. So, you answer in a whisper. “Always.” 

Maybe he’s not the one that needs to be careful with your heart. Maybe it’s you that needs to be careful. You know that you could walk away. That you could just remind him that this is all fake and there’s nobody around to see now. That’s not what you do. So, maybe you’re just as much to blame. 

Sunday Joshua: thanks for taking care of me last night Joshua: idk why the drinks hit me so hard Joshua: when did you leave?  Monday Joshua: is everything okay? Did i say something stupid? Tuesday Joshua: i don’t wanna sound clingy but are we still getting together at your place after work?

Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you know that you need to respond. You know that what you’re doing isn’t fair to anyone. It’s not like Joshua can somehow read your mind to realize you’re spiraling. It just feels a little paralyzing. This is a weird limbo of knowing you might be in over your head, but still believing this is all fake. 

Jeonghan: hey dummy i know you’re ignoring joshua so i’m coming over tonight  Jeonghan: i told him you’ve been busy at work and i haven’t heard from you either but we have some talking to do

Leave it to Jeonghan. You had almost forgotten, with how well you’ve gotten to know Joshua, that it was Jeonghan who introduced you in the first place. Of course he would text your best friend when he couldn’t get a hold of you. Does that make you feel better? Not really, you think, because it feels like a real relationship in a way. Oh well, you can talk about it with Jeonghan. If he shows up, that is.

And he does, less than an hour later.

“I’m here,” he announces when he comes in the door.

“Thanks for knocking and giving me the chance to pretend I’m not here,” you call back.

“Your car is outside and you have your location turned on,” Jeonghan says. 

“Right,” you answer as he comes through the hall holding a bag from your favorite take out place.

“At least I come bearing gifts,” he says.

“You’re an angel, do you know that?” you ask and reach for the bag.

Jeonghan snorts. “I’m gonna remind you of that the next time you call me a demon.” 

“Well, Lucifer was a fallen angel,” you reason with a shrug. 

“I hate you,” he says.

“I know,” you answer. 

Jeonghan busies himself with taking out the food and making sure you have napkins. Tells you what he wants to drink when you get up to go into the kitchen. Calls for you to grab some utensils as well. By the time you sit back down with him, he’s flipping through a streaming service trying to find something to watch. It’s not at all what you’re expecting and you just let it happen. The two of you have been friends long enough to know you should just let things play out.

With some mindless show on in the background, Jeonghan talks about work and your friends and everything else that’s been going on the past few days. Like it’s been weeks since you last saw him. Mostly, he talks about how Taehyung has been blowing up his phone asking for advice about Mimi, which is actually news to you. Sure, you saw him ask her if she wanted to go with him to the wedding. What you had not expected was for him to actually be interested. Which he is, if his messages to Jeonghan are anything to go by. It’s been everything from advice about talking to her to what kinds of things she might like as a surprise. They would probably be cute, you think. 

“Yeah, well, sometimes feelings catch us off guard,” Jeonghan says when you admit your surprise.

Damn. Did you really walk right into that?

“True,” you admit, knowing that’s the best answer you can give.

“Talk to me,” Jeonghan urges. 

“About what?” you ask to buy more time.

“Joshua,” he says.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you state. That makes him fix you with a look.

“Clearly there is or you wouldn’t be ignoring him,” he says. 

“We’re not really dating so I don’t owe him constant updates. I’m not ignoring him. I just have other shit to do,” you say without looking at him.

“Would you like to be?” he asks. That does make you turn to him.

“Like to be what?” you ask, though you think you know.

“Really dating him,” Jeonghan says.

It’s a crossroads kind of moment. You could say that you don’t want that. That would be a lie, though, and Jeonghan doesn’t like it when you lie. Can always tell the second you say something that’s not true. The truth is that you’ve spent nearly every moment since that stupid night at Hyejin’s place thinking about what you actually feel for your fake boyfriend. 

“I don’t…know,” you say slowly and earn a smile because it’s not a lie.

“I was there the other night too, I saw the way it all played out,” he says.

“I mean, does it matter? This is all fake and soon, it’ll be over,” you say.

“Of course it matters and it’ll be over soon? Please,” Jeonghan scoffs. “I know he’s told you that he wants to keep you in his life after Johnny’s wedding. So, what? You’re just gonna be like okay, that was fun, let’s never talk again?”

“I don’t know, maybe,” you say quietly.

He rolls his eyes. “Try again, buttercup.” 

“It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t like me like that, he’s just nice,” you say, avoidant as ever. 

“He looks at you like he’d give you the moon if you asked for it,” Jeonghan snorts out.

“He’s just nice, Han,” you disagree.

“Maybe,” your closest friend concedes, a rare move for him. It feels weird all the same. “Whatever it is, text him back. He misses you and I don’t want to hear anymore about how he’s worrying he upset you.”

“He’s been worrying that he upset me?” you ask. Your heart constricts at that.

“Yeah, for some reason he actually likes your company,” he says. “Can’t relate.”

You smack Jeonghan on the arm. “Says the man who shows up at my place unannounced when I ignore him for a day.”

“No, I was just bored,” he argued. “And you’re way too stubborn to sort out your shit on your own.”

 “I’m not stubborn, but fine, I’ll text him,” you relent.

“Now,” he says.

“What?”

“Text him now so that I know you actually did it.”

You roll your eyes at him, but pull your phone out anyway. Angling it away from Jeonghan so that he can’t see your screen. He’s such a nosy brat sometimes.

You: hey, i’m sorry. It’s been really busy and i had a lot on my mind You: wanna do something tomorrow?

The response comes right away and you ignore the smug look on Jeonghan’s face as you quickly make plans. If Jeonghan was anyone else, he would probably just let you be since he ultimately got what he wanted. But, he’s not anyone else. And he’s as caring to his friends as he is calculating when he wants something. So, he’s not doing it to be cruel, not at all. He just wants you to consider what you’re actually feeling. 

You’ll never tell Jeonghan how much you appreciate him talking everything through with you. Never tell him how good it feels to get all the thoughts out of your head. To his credit, he’s not smug and he doesn’t tell you that he’s been right about your feelings all along. He just listens, supports you when you need it, and encourages you to keep thinking through everything that’s going on.

As a make-up for slightly ignoring Joshua (over your own internal freak out), you take him to dinner at your favorite restaurant. It’s this tiny little hole-in-the-wall that people seem to walk past. The kind of place where you couldn’t overspend even if you tried because the couple that owned it just wanted to share good food. The kind of place where they know everyone by name. It makes you feel instantly at ease. 

Joshua doesn’t say it, but he also kind of can’t believe you wanted to show him some place that meant so much to you. All he could do was watch, with so much fondness, as you spoke to the couple about everything under the sun. Watch as you turned slightly red when they scolded you for taking so long to bring Joshua by. Smile as you promised the both of you would be back. Despite trying to pay, you beat him to it. Even leaving a massive tip because you insisted the couple had undercharged you. They made a big show of not wanting to take the tip and you only reminded them the cash would stay sitting on the counter. You weren’t taking it back either. 

You don’t really think about it when you take a picture of you and Joshua to upload on Instagram. At least, you try not to. Later, when you’re home and winding down for the night, you pull the picture back up. It’s amazing just how happy both of you look. You don’t need to read the comments to know that you’ve never looked so happy in your life. Every part of you wants to pull back again. It’s overwhelming. But, Jeonghan’s voice plays in your head and instead you push past. Make more plans that could break your heart. You have to just trust that he won’t. 

It isn’t until the weekend that you’re able to see him again because your schedules didn’t quite match up. That doesn’t stop him from calling you at night, though. Insisting that he wants to know how your day was, even if you can only spare a few minutes for a call. (Which never ends up being the case. You fall asleep on the phone with him twice. His voice is just so soothing when it’s all deep and soft.) 

Again, Joshua tells you the date is a surprise. He can be a little bit of a demon, when it suits him. Sure, he likes to pretend he’s not. That he’s above the chaos. Then, he does something like this and he can’t really escape it. But, he’s so sure he knows what you like that he’s positive you’ll enjoy the date. You remember how that chat had gone, too. You were ready to go to sleep, but unable to say goodnight. 

(“I have our next date planned,” Joshua says, voice soft to match the calm of the night.

“What is it?” you wonder.

“A surprise,” he answers.

“What if I don’t like it?” you ask back.

“You will,” he assures you.

“You sure seem to think you know me,” you joke. 

“Yeah, I do. Don’t worry, you’ll like this too,” he says.

There was no point in denying it. That confidence sent a bit of a shiver through you.) 

It turns out that the date is at a winery where you’re painting with wine. You have to ask him to say it again because you’ve only ever heard of wine and paint classes. Painting with wine is entirely new to you. It sounds fun, though, and you know how crafty Joshua can be, have seen all the projects around his apartment. So, even though you’re definitely not that artistic, you’re excited to see this as well. 

Admittedly, by the end of the session, your painting isn’t bad. It was a bit weird to use wine in that way, but they let you drink as well. Which makes it a lot easier to just go along with the idea of painting. Joshua’s painting, on the other hand, is beautiful. Not for the first time, you think his talents might be wasted at an office job. You’ve seen the bracelets he makes and now you’ve seen him paint. You’ve heard him sing and play the guitar. He’s impossibly artistic in a way that should make you jealous. Instead, it just makes you more endeared to him. 

You snap a picture of him and his art when he’s not looking and upload it before he can even realize it. It’s only when a notification goes off on his phone that he realizes. He doesn’t even say anything, just gets a sparkle in his eyes that makes you weary immediately. He’s busy tapping away on his own phone before a notification sounds on yours. Maybe you weren’t the only one to steal a candid shot if the picture of you laughing with a glass of wine in one hand and a paintbrush in the other is anything to go by. It’s the caption that really ruins you, though. Just a simple “think I’m addicted to her light”. It’s so simple and also so much sweeter than yours. You fight through the urge to run away. 

Which lasts until you get home from dinner. It was the perfect date, truly. Joshua always seems to know exactly how to plan out a day so everything works. After sipping wine and painting, he took you to one of his favorite restaurants. Nothing too pretentious, just kind of unassuming. The kind of place where you get good food and even better conversation. It’s (mostly) easy to keep your mind off the way your heart keeps racing.

When you’re back home, you’re not so lucky.

Back home, alone in your apartment, there aren’t any distractions. Nothing to stop your mind from all the ways that it can sabotage your own happiness. Nothing to stop you from thinking about how nobody, not even Johnny, has ever planned out such thoughtful dates for you. Nobody has ever taken the time to really know you like Joshua. Even if you won’t admit it, he knows you better than anyone you’ve ever dated. Which is terrifying, since this is all fake. And he hasn’t even known you that long. 

So, you do the rational thing and you pull back again. Answer his texts so that he doesn’t send Jeonghan over to figure out what’s wrong, but don’t make solid plans. Talk a lot about a work project that you really need to get done ahead of schedule so that you’re not stressing leading up to the wedding. And you throw in some easy suggestions in the meantime so that it still seems like you’re making an effort. 

Lunch on a work day so that it has a set ending time. Which still tugs at your heartstrings a bit because he takes a longer lunch just to meet you closer to where you work. 

An event where your parents purchased a table for charity because he’s in high demand with your family around. And he can’t be as affectionate. 

His Open Mic Nights, but with the excuse that you can’t stay too late because of your project and he should stick around with his friends. You’ll get home safely.

Small little things that keep you around him and keep up your conversations while still giving you time to breathe. You’re sure that you’re pulling it all off. And then, the wedding is around the corner. The finish line is in sight. 

You: I’m not going to the wedding You: you don’t have to come pick me up Joshua: what are you talking about? You: i’m not going Joshua: but it’s literally in a few hours? You: yeah and i don’t wanna go, so you’re off the hook You: thanks for everything, but you don’t have to pretend anymore

Even if you know you’re being a little petulant, you don’t really care. This whole thing was supposed to be about protecting your heart. Protecting your pride. Not showing up to your cheating ex-fiance's wedding alone and looking like some kind of loser. It was not supposed to be about your heart getting clobbered anyway. So, you’re doing the only logical thing you can think of. Ignoring your problems. Avoiding both the wedding and Joshua. What you’re not prepared for, though you should be, is the knock that comes at your door half an hour later. 

Joshua is on the other side of the door and your heart actually stops. He’s got his tux on and his hair styled back off his face. His eyes are soft as they take you in, noting that you have your hair and make up done. Though, you’re still in your sweats. You got at least that far before you decided this was a stupid fucking decision. 

“Can I come in?” he asks when you don’t say anything.

“Sure,” you say and step aside. 

“You look like you’re getting ready,” he comments once he’s inside.

“I was, until I texted you,” you answer. “Speaking of, why are you here?”

“Because we had plans,” he says. 

“Yeah to go see my ex-fiance marry the girl he cheated on me with. Oh, and for you to pretend to be my boyfriend so I didn’t look pathetic,” you say with a huff. 

“You’re not pathetic. He’s an asshole,” Joshua says. He doesn’t swear often, so it catches you a little off guard. 

“Well, whatever, you don’t have to go. So, I’m not really sure why you’re here,” you say. 

“You’re being so cold. What’s going on?” Joshua asks and reaches out to you. Instead, you duck away from his touch. 

“Nothing is going on. It was stupid to care what Johnny thought or to try and save face somehow,” you say. 

“It’s not stupid. He hurt you and you didn’t deserve that,” Joshua urges.

“You really don’t know me that well. Maybe I did deserve it. Maybe I was awful to him and he had no choice,” you say.

“We both know that’s not true,” he says.

“Do we?” you challenge. 

“Yes, we do,” he presses. “There is nothing you could do that justifies cheating instead of just breaking it off. But, I also know you didn’t do anything wrong. Jeonghan and I talked about it.”

“You spoke to Jeonghan about my relationship behind my back?” you question. 

“What is going on? We’ve been hanging out for weeks and getting to know each other. I just wanted to know more about someone I was going to be helping. And I like knowing you,” Joshua says and you have to look away. You don’t need the reminder of how much time you’ve spent with him.

“Yeah, sorry about all that time we wasted. I’ll pay you back for the tux or anything else you had to buy to pretend to date me,” you say and he looks genuinely confused.

“I don’t…want you to pay me back for anything. It wasn’t a waste of time. I did this because I wanted to,” he says.

“Yeah, well, you don’t have to pretend anymore because I’m not going to the stupid fucking wedding. It was a really bad idea in the first place,” you say.

Joshua clenches his jaw and looks away. Like maybe he’s frustrated. “What is going on? Do you still have feelings for him?” 

“For who? Johnny?” you ask, so insanely caught off guard that you forget you’re mad.

“Yes,” Joshua says tightly.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you bark out.

“Well? You’re being really weird and now you don’t want to go to a wedding that we’ve been planning on,” he starts.

“Yeah, which should make you happy, since you don’t have to pretend to be my boyfriend anymore,” you say.

“Because you’re still in love with Johnny,” Joshua finishes like he hadn’t even heard you.

“Oh my god,” you nearly scream. “I’m not fucking in love with Johnny. This isn’t about him.”

“So, you don’t want to go to the wedding and it has nothing to do with him? That doesn’t make any sense,” he says. 

“No, I don’t want to keep doing this,” you say, gesturing between the two of you. “I don’t want to keep pretending to date you when I -”

You clamp your mouth shut. Unable to believe that you almost blurted out how you feel.

“When you what?” he challenges. “What? Is it that bad being around me? Is that it? Are you just sick of me? Ready to toss me aside?”

You laugh bitterly, not even able to appreciate the irony in the situation. “No, Joshua, I don’t want to toss you aside.” 

“Then, what? What am I supposed to think when you’ve been pushing me away for the last couple weeks? And I have to act like I haven’t noticed all the ways you’ve kept me at arm’s length since we went to the winery. Why did you just decide, literally today, that you don’t want to go to the wedding after all?” he asks, rambling. He’s pacing in front of you. “Why are you trying so hard to get rid of me?”

“Because I don’t want to get hurt!” you blurt out. “Because I don’t want to go to my fucking scumbag of an ex’s wedding where everyone is going to be giving me these looks of pity or focusing on my relationship with him when all I want is this.”

“This? What?” he asks, coming to a stop.

“This, Joshua, you and me. Having this just all be pretend is breaking my heart. I can’t keep doing it. It was supposed to keep me from getting my heart broken. It sucks and I hate it and I just wish it wasn’t pretend. I don’t want to go to the wedding and have you be so sweet and kind and caring when I’m going to know it has an expiration date. That it’s all just been for show,” you admit. You turn away, clutching your arms around your center because you’re so tired. And so exposed. So vulnerable. It’s awful.

The tears won’t stop, so you don’t notice how Joshua has closed the space between you until he wraps his arms around you from behind. Pulls you back against his chest and presses a kiss into your hair.

“So, let’s stop saying it’s pretend,” he whispers. 

“What?” you whisper back.

He turns you in his arms so that you’re facing him and gently brushes away the tears. “Let’s stop saying it’s fake. It doesn’t feel fake, does it?”

“No,” is all you can manage.

“So, it’s not fake and we’re not pretending,” he says.

“But,” you start to protest. 

“I knew I was in trouble, really deep trouble, as soon as we left your parents’ house. I was just waiting for you to catch up,” he says as he gently runs a thumb across your cheek to wipe away a tear . Your eyes go wide.

“That was barely a week in,” you say and he just shrugs. “And I’d dumped all my bullshit on you.”

“I think that’s actually what made me like you so much,” he says. “It was supposed to be fake and we were trying to get to know each other well enough to pull it off. But, instead, I just realized you were actually perfect.”

“Perfect? I was broken,” you joke and he shakes his head.

“No, you’ve been hurt. Who hasn’t? You’re also strong, kind, funny, a fiercely loyal friend, and one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever met, inside and out,” he says. 

“That’s so, you’re so sweet,” you say and try to hide your face. He doesn’t let you. “You like me?”

“I’ve liked you the whole time. I did think it was a date, after all,” he says. “And do you think I’m that affectionate with everyone?”

“We were pretending,” you argue.

“I wasn’t,” he argues back.

“Our closest friends thought you were,” you disagree.

“And was anyone else there in my apartment when I was still being affectionate?” he asks.

“Well, no, but…” you start.

“I heard you say always,” he tells you.

“You did?” you ask, sure that it’s been your secret this whole time.

“We don’t have to go to the wedding. But, if it’s just because you don’t want this to be over with me, then it’s not going to be over. I’m yours for as long as you want me,” he says so earnestly it nearly makes you blush.

“Careful, you might get sick of me,” you joke.

He puts a finger under your chin so he can look you in the eyes. “I’ll say it again. I’m yours as long as you want me. I won’t get sick of you.” 

“I…” you start and don’t know where to go. So you do the only thing you can think of and kiss him. It’s clear he’s a little caught off guard, but he recovers quickly. His arms wrap around you to hold you tight against him. It’s the first time you’ve really kissed him and you’re so screwed because he really is perfect at this too. 

“So, do I get you for the rest of today?” he asks.

You take in his tuxedo again, for real this time. Appreciating how well it’s tailored and how amazing he looks. With a sigh, you say, “you know, it’s a shame to waste such a nice tux.”

“Are you…I thought we weren’t going,” he stutters.

“I’m probably gonna have to fix my makeup in the car, but why not? I want to show off my super hot and very real boyfriend,” you say and watch him choke on air. 

“You can’t just say…” he starts.

“Damn, sick of me already?” you tease.

“You know I’m not,” he answers and moves to follow you.

“No, no. You don’t get to see me changing. I’ll be back out in a second,” you say. 

You’re in the middle of shimmying into your dress when you realize that you do still have a lot to talk about. A lot to figure out. This whole situation has been unusual, though, so it probably makes sense that there isn’t a template. Once you have your shoes on, you walk back into the living room, prepared to say something, only to find Joshua speechless.

“You look…” he starts.

“You’ve seen the dress already,” you say and smile.

“Not on you. Not in person. You look amazing,” he says and crosses to pull you into his arms. “Are you sure we have to go?”

“Yes,” you say and swat him. “But, I do know we have a lot to talk about.”

“I’m not in a rush,” he says and allows you to step away.

“We might need to be in a bit of a rush,” you say, checking the time and gathering all your things. 

“Let’s go, then,” Joshua says and offers his arm. 

The wedding passes in kind of a blur. In truth, you barely even register Johnny or what he’s doing beyond the actual ceremony. The reception is so massive that it’s easiest just to focus on the people around you. Especially when you’re at a table with your friends. Thankfully, you’re not at a table with your parents or your sister. It does mean, though, that you’re sitting next to Hyejin, who has definitely realized that something shifted between you and Joshua. So, she’s trying to sneak in a question any time she can. Which is hard, given that Joshua is more attached to you than ever. And Hyejin doesn’t want to draw unnecessary attention to you. All you manage to let her know is that it’s real now and that you’ll fill her in after the wedding. (You’re also thankful that people seem to be cooing over Taehyung and Mimi since they’re the shiny new topic.)

It’s also nice to have Joshua there because he’s a built in way to excuse yourself from any conversation that you don’t want to be part of. It’s easy to just say you’re going to go back to the table. Or, in the case of a good song coming on, he’ll be quick to drag you to the dance floor and away from whatever conversation you’re stuck in. He’s a good dancer, too. You don’t miss the way Hyejin catches your eye when the first slow song comes on and he pulls you close to him. But, that’s a conversation for another day. All you wanted was to appreciate the way his hand felt on your lower back or your hand felt in his. 

When it was finally time to leave, Joshua led you out of the event, arm around you to guide you. Neither of you were drunk, but you had still hired someone to take you to and from the wedding anyway. A gift from your parents to appreciate you “doing the right thing” and coming to the wedding. For the sake of the families. It made you roll your eyes at the time, yet you’re thankful now. It would be far better than having to take an Uber or trying to get a room at the hotel (and risking seeing everyone else staying there the next morning). The ride home also gave you the chance to talk. Really talk. Neither of you cared much that someone else was driving (and he had the partition up, anyway), as you talked about your feelings honestly for the first time. 

As it turned out, you had a lot to say. Both of you. You hadn’t been nearly as good at hiding your feelings from Joshua as you had been at hiding them from yourself. He had hoped you were going to admit them to him after that night at his apartment. Instead, you avoided him. Yes, he knew that you had been avoiding him. You also weren’t very good at picking up on the signs he dropped about his feelings for you. He admitted that he could have just said something, but he was trying to be subtle so he didn’t scare you off. Trying to let his actions speak through more affection. You admit you were scared to think it was anything more than it actually was. Scared of your feelings. Scared of getting hurt again. Joshua completely understands that and admits that he’s a little scared, too, because you’re definitely more important to him than he was anticipating. He’s also confident that you can work through it together. It gives you a feeling of hope. Makes everything about you feel lighter. You see that relief reflected in Joshua’s eyes when they scan yours. 

The car pulls to a stop and he gets out first. He holds his hand out to help you out of the car. You’re not really sure what comes over you.

“Come up with me,” you ask, but it’s more of a statement. 

He hesitates, conflicted. “I don’t know if I should.”

“Why?” you ask, clearly confused.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to leave,” he answers and you smile.

“Then stay,” you shrug, “at least for breakfast.” 

Without waiting for him to respond, you turn and head for the front door of the building. It means you miss the way he freezes in place, but you can guess at that by how long it takes before he catches up to you. He’s unusually quiet and still beside you as you go up the elevator and then behind you as you unlock the door. 

“I’m gonna go change,” you announce after you drop your keys by the door. You look back at Joshua, appreciating him in the tuxedo one last time. “I’ve got some clothes in the spare room that should fit. They’re Jeonghan’s ” 

You take the opportunity to breathe for a second, to let it settle in that you asked Joshua to come in with you and stay the night. Then, you set about changing out of your dress. Carefully clean your face free of the make-up. Brush through your hair and twist it back off of your face. Once you’re in comfy clothes and bare faced, you head back out into the living room. It’s odd that you don’t even feel self-conscious about Joshua seeing you like this, you’re instantly comfortable. 

Joshua’s back is to you in the kitchen. When he turns around, you see that he’s put together a little platter of snacks. You also were right, the t-shirt and shorts he picked out seem to fit him well. Jeonghan is a little slighter than Joshua, but he wears most of his clothes on the baggier side. 

“Thanks for the clothes,” he says when you both meet on the couch. “I was worried when you said you had spare clothes they were gonna be from an ex or Johnny or something.” 

Your laugh is sudden and clearly catches Joshua off guard. “I wouldn’t have kept any of Johnny’s clothes. I gave them all to charity.” 

“I’m sure he was thrilled with that,” Joshua laughs.

“They made a killing reselling them,” you laugh in response. “Wanna watch something?”

“Sure, you pick,” he says.

You start clicking through your saved list to find something that the two of you can watch. Once you settle on something, Joshua motions you over. Even if you want to pretend you’re considering it, you can’t. Every part of you wants to be close to him. When you slide over, he pulls you in tighter to his body and you fit like you always belonged there with him. 

If you thought he was physically affectionate when he was pretending, it’s nothing compared to now that he knows you’re both in this. He has one hand running along your arm or the other along your thigh. Sometimes he reaches out to take one of your hands. Other times he presses kisses into your hair. It’s pretty clear right away that he’s not paying much attention to the show. 

If you’re being honest, you’re not really either.

Everything is distracting. The way his fingers on the bare skin of your arm raises goosebumps. The way his kiss in your hair makes your eyes close in appreciation. The way he squeezes your thigh and short circuits your brain. 

You can’t help it. You turn your head so that you can look at him. He caresses your cheek, so gentle. Runs his thumb across your lip. You’re holding your breath, just waiting to see what he’s going to do. When you feel like you’re going to go a little bit insane, his hand moves to the back of your neck and pulls you in. It’s exactly like the first kiss before the wedding. At least, at first. It’s gentle, but full of so much desire. It’s also slow, like there’s no rush to any of it.

The position is really uncomfortable, though. You shift your legs so they’re draped over one of Joshua’s. He doesn’t miss a beat. It just allows him to pull you closer. There’s something incredibly intimate in kissing him like this. There’s this weird contrast of desire and comfort. It’s heated, but also a little lazy. Like you have all the time in the world. Which you do, you think, now that you’re being honest about your feelings.  When Joshua pulls back from the kiss, you chase his lips for a second before realizing that he’s pulled away. The way he looks at you nearly melts you into the couch.

“I don’t want to assume where this is headed, but maybe we should take it to the bedroom?” he asks. It’s cute, the way he’s a little shy. Like you didn’t invite him in to spend the night. Yeah, you’re in way over your head. At least it seems like he might be too. 

You pull your legs back so that you can stand up. His eyes track your movements as you reach your hand back to him. He accepts it without a word and lets you lead him to the bedroom. Even if he’s seen your bedroom before, this feels different. You’re waiting for him to look around, but his eyes are glued on you. Joshua even waits for you to lead him all the way to the bed, so you direct him to sit on the edge. 

Once Joshua is seated, you step between his legs and tilt your head down to kiss him. He wraps his arms around you so that he can pull you against him. There’s barely any space between you. It sends a little bit of a shiver as his hands run up your back and back down. The touch is gentle and caring. Like he’s trying to put everything he feels into it. Something about it just makes you feel so insanely safe. 

He’s the one to break the kiss again, but this time it’s to move back onto the bed and grab your hand to pull you along with him. It’s easy to just follow suit and get comfortable laying next to him, bodies facing each other. The kissing picks up when your lips meet again. Joshua kisses you breathless with a passion you’re eager to explore. One of his hands rests on your hip, casually sliding beneath your shirt and caressing up your side. You press your body further into his and capture his moan with a kiss. It feels like you’re a bit drunk off each other.

When Joshua’s hand moves back down, you take the chance to throw your leg over his hip, allowing you to press further into him and feel how this is turning him on. Part of you knows that he’s still waiting for you to set the pace. Or that he wants things to be a little slower. So, you help him out and roll the two of you over so that you’re straddled on top of him. Putting his hands on your hips, you lean over to kiss him again. In this position, you can also grind into his lap. You delight in how he’s already getting hard beneath you, enjoy the way his hands grip the soft flesh of your hips.

He pulls back and looks at you with blown pupils. “Baby, please don’t tease me.” 

“No silly pet name?” you tease him. 

“Not when you’re getting me this turned on like a horny teenager,” he whines. 

“You mean like this?” you ask, injecting as much innocence as you can when you slowly drag your clothed pussy across his dick again. 

Joshua throws his head back, eyes squeezed shut, and grips you tighter. “Yes.” 

“So you don’t like it?” you ask, grinding a little more. 

“Fuck,” he hisses out. And somehow that’s the thing that almost breaks you. Why is that one swear so hot on his lips? 

Without saying anything, you sit up a little bit, still making sure you’re straddling Joshua, so that you can pull his shirt off him. Your eyes go wide because you’ve never seen him shirtless. You’ve seen him in well fitted suits or shirts, but this is entirely different. His chest looks like it was sculpted by an artist. All your attention is on your fingers running along his chest and you don’t see the way it makes him a little shy. 

His hands reach for your own shirt, playing with the hem like he’s asking permission. So, you move his hands aside and pull it over your head, leaving your skin bare as well. You watch him drink you in, feeling almost empowered by the desire you see in his eyes. He pulls you back towards him so that he can get one of your breasts into his mouth. The way he teases your nipple with his tongue has you clenching around nothing. You can feel how wet it’s making you and try your best not to squirm when he moves from one breast to the other. 

“I need you,” you utter. 

“I need you, too,” he says against your skin. His hips buck up into you almost involuntarily. 

You slide off of him and pull your shorts down and he gasps that you don’t have any underwear on. It isn’t like you were expecting anything, you just wanted to be prepared. While he’s still a little drunk on the sight of you fully naked, you help him discard the rest of his clothing. The sight of his cock springing free, precum leaking out, has you wanting to get your mouth on him. 

But, you’re realizing, what you really want is to feel him inside you. After so much tension and wondering, you just want to have this moment together. You want to be as close as two people can possibly get. You want all the intimacy and to be able to see his face. It’s this thought that pushes you back to the bed to lay with him. 

Joshua repositions and runs a hand down your body. Lets his fingers run along your thighs and tease their way up to gather some of your wetness. Your eyes close as he runs a finger up your slit. It’s such a little amount of contact and it makes you moan anyway. 

“Damn, are you this wet just for me?” he asks and presses a kiss into the first bit of your skin he can reach.

“I want to feel you,” you admit. Joshua makes you press a finger into your pussy, but you stop him. Confusion takes over his features.

“I thought…do you not want this?” he asks. 

“I do, but I want…I want all of you,” you admit. “I want to feel you deep inside of me. I want to be completely ruined by you. I want to come together.” 

“Shit,” he hisses, hand stilling against your body. “On one condition.”

“What’s that?” you ask.

“I want to taste you soon,” he says, pressing a kiss into your shoulder.

The thought of him between your legs makes you shiver. It’s almost enough to forget that you want this first time to be together. “Deal.” 

“Do you have condoms? I wasn’t exactly expecting…” he says, trailing off.

“That drawer,” you say and point. 

He rolls himself off of the bed to open the drawer. You’re not sure why you expect his hands to be a little unsteady when he rips open the wrapper and rolls it onto himself, but he’s so calm. Maybe it’s just you that’s a little nervous. At least, that’s what you think until you catch the look on his face. It has to be the same as yours, naked want mixed with a little bit of uncertainty. Everything else has been so easy with you, what if this is where it goes wrong? 

“Just lay back,” he urges you, voice calming any lingering nerves. His voice drops to a whisper, like the next statement is just for him. “You’re so beautiful, every single inch of you.” 

It makes your heart constrict in a way that you’re not really prepared for. It would be nice if your feelings could stop flooding in all at once like a dam breaking. It’s overwhelming. You do as he says, though, and lean back against the pillow. Joshua gently spreads your legs apart and takes another moment to appreciate you. He can’t seem to help himself from running a finger along your entrance. 

Even though he would fully be within his rights to tease you, he doesn’t. He lines himself up at your entrance and looks to you for final confirmation. All you can manage is a nod. You know he wants to hear you, but you can’t bring yourself to form the words. So, he accepts the nods and slowly presses into you.

“Fuck,” you hiss as you adjust to him. 

“Are you okay?” he worries.

“Feels good,” you say with a slight whine. “It’s just been a bit.” 

He presses the rest of the way into you and then stills so you can get used to him. It’s really overwhelming. Not just because you’re finally feeling him inside of you. More so because he’s looking at you with more adoration than you’ve ever felt in your life. Like this is it for him. Like you’re it for him. It’s too early to be thinking of love, but you really don’t know if anyone has ever loved you so completely. You think he’s probably it for you too. 

Once he finally starts to move, you know it’s going to be over entirely too fast. He starts with slow thrusts, testing what you want. You dig your fingers into his arms as a way to ground yourself. To anchor yourself to him and in the moment. When he picks up the pace, your mind goes entirely blank. It’s just the right speed. While you love the hard and fast fucking, there’s something so much more intimate about this kind of in between speed. 

“God you feel so good,” he whines as he snaps into you again. “So tight and perfect.” 

“You’re so - oh my god,” you moan out, unable to finish the sentence as he hits you just right. 

Joshua moves one of your legs so that it’s over his shoulder and presses further into you, hitting deeper than you were prepared for.

“Fuck, Joshua, holy shit,” you scream out. 

“Love the sound of my name on your lips,” he manages as his thrusts pick up pace. 

You want to respond that you love saying it, want to say anything, but the thrusts are entirely too much. As if it wasn’t already too much, Joshua adjusts again so that he can press his thumb against your clit. He rubs circles in time with his thrusts and you think that you might see stars. You throw your head back, eyes pressed shut.

“Look at me, baby. I wanna see you when you come,” he urges, his own voice sounding ragged. 

Despite wanting to focus on the pressure building between you, you do as he asks. Your eyes meet his and it’s that look that makes that coil snap. You’re coming hard and digging your fingers into whatever you can find to release some of the tension in your body. This might be the best orgasm you’ve had. 

When you come back to this plane, Joshua has stilled inside of you. One of his hands gently caresses your face as he mumbles quiet praises. It’s so impossibly tender.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, you can move,” you assure him.

“Thank fuck,” he mumbles. 

His pace now picks up to something fast and hard with one of his large hands anchoring your thigh to his body. Your hands grip any part of his body that they can reach and you relish the way he hisses when your nails drag patterns down his skin. Marking him so that he belongs to you. Just as you belong so completely to him. 

It seems impossible but you can feel the tension building low in your stomach again. His thrusts are so hard that you feel like his cock might split you open and something about it just works for you. You hadn’t thought anything about him would translate to this kind of hard and fast sex, but it’s somehow better than you could have imagined. With him so focused on chasing his own high, you rub circles on your clit to bring yourself over the edge again. You tumble over the edge for a second time just as Joshua’s thrusts get erratic. You do your best to take over the rhythm before slowing down. 

Joshua collapses on top of you, cock still buried in your pussy, and sighs. His weight on top of you feels like the best security you’ve ever had. Your hands find their way into his hair, gently stroking and scratching his scalp. As he comes back around, he presses his head further into your hand. 

“Hey,” you say when he looks up at you.

“You’re perfect,” he responds and you can’t keep the smile off your face. 

“You were pretty perfect yourself,” you say. 

“Am I too heavy, I could…” he starts and you pull him tighter against you.

“Don’t you dare,” you warn. 

He doesn’t say anything, just nuzzles his face into your neck. But, you know that you can’t stay like this forever. So you don’t protest when he gently pulls himself up and gets out of the bed. You’re right behind him, leading him into the bathroom so that you can get both of you cleaned up. 

After getting cleaned up, dressed, and doing your respective night time routines, you and Joshua are settled back into your bed (on top of a fresh set of sheets). Although you’ve never been much for falling asleep cuddling, you can’t imagine leaving any space between you and him. When he wraps himself around you, all you can do is smile and settle deeper into his perfect chest. Honestly, every inch of this man is perfect and you’d be annoyed if you weren’t so helplessly attached to him. 

And it’s the best sleep you’ve gotten in a long time. You wake up with his chest pressed into your back and his arm still wrapped around you. It sounds like he’s still asleep based on his breathing and so you’re just considering slipping out of the bed. He moves in his sleep and pulls you tighter against him, making you feel that he’s semi-hard again. You press back against him, almost testing if he’s really asleep. 

He’s not. 

Joshua’s hand, already against the skin of your stomach and underneath your shirt, moves further up to your breast. His hand squeezes your breast and then he brushes his thumb over your nipple. Your body responds to his touch embarrassingly fast, which only seems to spur him on. He’s got your nipple between his fingers before you press back into him again, wiggling your ass against his dick without pretending you’re doing otherwise.

“Good morning beautiful,” Joshua says in a raspy voice into your ear. 

The warmth of his breath along with the pressure of him rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger has you suppressing a moan. In the quiet of the morning, he hears it anyway. He removes his hand from your breast and you want to pout at the loss of contact. That is, until his hand works down between your legs, roughly grabbing hold of your pussy through your shorts. He runs his middle finger through your folds, likely feeling the way your shorts are getting soaked through already. 

“Feels like someone might have woken up ready,” he says into your ear, voice sinfully low. His finger is still slowly teasing you through the damn material of your shorts. Somehow that makes it feel hotter. 

“I wonder why,” you retort, undermined by the way you squirm under his touch. 

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks and stops his movements. 

Your hand immediately moves to his. To guide him back to your cunt. “Please don’t. Want to see what those hands can do.” 

His mouth is still by your ear, so you hear the dark chuckle and feel the air tickle you. He moves your hand aside along with your shorts as he slips his hand inside the fabric. His middle finger resumes the previous pattern almost lazily. You’re about to ask him to stop teasing you when he presses a finger inside you suddenly.

“Fuck,” you nearly scream. 

“Is someone a little sensitive?” he teases. He’s a fucking demon and you would gladly sell your soul so he didn’t stop. 

The way he pumps his finger inside of you is entirely too slow. But, when you try to meet his rhythm, he stops. Just when you think you might actually die, he inserts a second finger. It makes your back arch, pressing your ass further against his now very hard cock. He hisses and pulls his fingers out from you. As you’re turning over to adjust your position, you see him insert his fingers into his mouth. Holy shit. He really is the hottest man you’ve ever met. 

Instead of letting you carry on in any way, he pushes himself up and repositions. You’re not really sure what he’s doing until he reaches for your shorts to pull them off. His focus is on you, silently asking for permission again. All you can do is nod. 

“Told you that I wanted to taste you,” he reminds you once your shorts are off. 

“Are you sure…” you start to ask before he cuts you off.

His head snaps up so he can meet your eyes. “I’ve been waiting to taste you for weeks.”

That shuts you up pretty effectively. What can you really say in response to that? Anything you might have said dies in your throat as he licks a messy stripe up your folds. He quickly settles, using one hand to keep you spread open for him, and licks into you. It’s all you can do to keep your eyes on him as his head bobs between your legs. You thread your fingers through his hair to keep him in place even though you know he’s not going anywhere. (And okay, maybe it’s more to ground yourself to him than anything else.) 

It shouldn’t be surprising that his attentiveness translates this well, but it is a little surprising how well he seems to know your body. The way he knows just when to switch from licking into your cunt to flicking his tongue over your clit. The way he knows when he needs to add a finger and then a second. The way he can tell everything your body needs before you even realize it. 

By the time he pulls himself up your body, he’s got you nearly panting from the build up. The kiss he presses to your lips is sloppy and a little desperate. Like you’re both totally fucked out. His fingers inside you keep a relentless pace as he hooks them, hitting that perfect spot. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you yell out, breaking the kiss. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire in an entirely different way from the night before. 

There’s nothing in the world but Joshua and the way he coaxes everything out of you. The way he has you squirting on his fingers. You’re not even sure if the praise coming out of your mouth makes any sense and you’re definitely not sure what he says in return. It’s all you can do just to appreciate the moment. 

You think that you’re going to get the chance to get your mouth around his cock now that he’s given you another mind blowing orgasm. But, by the time you get your breathing under control, you see that he’s rolling a condom from your drawer onto himself. He pulls you to the edge of the bed so that your legs are hanging off. It’s instantly stronger than you’re expecting from him and pulls a gasp from you. 

Without even thinking, your legs fall open. Joshua seems to have found a bottle of lube, too, and spreads it over his cock. When he lines himself up at your entrance, you expect him to ease in like the night before. He doesn’t. He snaps his full length inside of you in one motion and you’re so overstimulated, but it feels so good.

“Fuck me, Joshua, oh my fucking god,” you say and clench down around his dick. 

“Shit, that feels so good,” he hisses. 

“You feel so good,” you moan. 

“You have no idea,” he answers and starts thrusting. 

It’s a complete haze from the moment you hear his skin slap against your own. Every coherent thought leaves your head. There is nothing in the world but you and him and the way you make each other feel. He leans over your body, crowds your space. Steals sloppy, desperate kisses. Praises you constantly and in broken sentences. It’s all you can do just to hold on, so sore and so unable to stop.

Your hands grip into the sheets around you that are completely rumpled. You try everything to keep your eyes on Joshua’s face. Memorize the way he looks when he’s concentrating. Appreciate how totally gone he is because you’re sure it’s the same look you have. Delight in the way his eyes get even wider when you clench your pussy around him. 

It feels a little like he’s using your body to chase his own high, except there’s total comfort in that. All you want is for him to feel as good as you do. All you want is for him to get that release, especially since you haven’t been able to get your mouth on his cock yet. 

“Harder Joshua, please. I know you’re close,”  you beg and he obliges immediately. 

Even though you’re trying to meet the rhythm, you can’t. It’s too erratic and too unpredictable. So you pull him down to you again and kiss him. Slip your tongue inside his mouth and let the kisses get as sloppy as they need to. You feel how close he is and only kiss him harder. He breaks the kiss for the last few thrusts, groaning as he comes. You’re right there with him. 

(Later, he tells you that he’s never seen anyone hotter than you when you come. It would make you embarrassed in any other situation. But, you realize that you’ve never been with anyone that’s come close to him, so maybe it’s okay to accept his praise. Maybe you deserve it. Maybe this is the person that you’ve been waiting for.)

Now, you really do have to get up and clean up. As tempting as Joshua’s offer to shower together is, you don’t want it to turn into shower sex because that’s just not sexy (or practical). Neither one of you can seem to guarantee keeping their hands off the other. Instead, you tell him that he can use the shower in your guest room. It’s fully stocked and there are still more spare clothes in there. He insists that he should get some laundry going because you must be running out of clean sheets and you definitely made a mess. 

With Joshua cleaning up some around the house, you’re the first out of the shower and dressed. Pleasantly sore in the kind of way you really enjoy. You’re sitting on the couch and scrolling through your phone, trying to decide if you want to order food or just cook what you already have. Before you can make a decision, there’s a knock at the door. It’s impossible to guess who it could be. Even Jeonghan wouldn’t bother you like this. Although he’s been texting asking for an update after you told him you finally got your shit together, he wouldn’t show up like this. 

When you open the door, you’d give anything for it to just be Jeonghan. Instead, you see a face that you’ve been seeing entirely too much lately.

“What are you doing here, Johnny?” you ask with a heavy sigh. 

“I need to talk to you,” he says.

“Why?” you ask.

“Come on, don’t be like that,” he pleads.

“Johnny, it’s the day after your wedding. What the fuck are you doing on my doorstep?” you ask, arms crossed. 

“Are you really going to make me do this in the hallway?” he asks. 

“I don’t see any reason to invite you inside,” you retort. 

“It’s about your, uh, boyfriend,” Johnny says a little awkwardly.

“Joshua?” you ask because that actually piques your interest a bit.

“Can I come in?” he asks.

“No. What about Joshua?” you ask.

“This is really awkward. It would be better if we were sitting down…” Johnny starts.

“My little honeybun, is everything okay?” Joshua asks from inside the apartment. He must be out of the shower. 

“Babe, we talked about the pet names,” you remind him as he joins you at the door.

“Oh, uh, I wasn’t expecting him to be here,” Johnny says.

“I’m her boyfriend, so I know why I’m here. What are you doing here?” Joshua says without hiding any disdain.  "Are you really her boyfriend, though?" Johnny challenges. You stiffen almost imperceptibly, but Joshua must notice it because he wraps an arm around you protectively. "Of course I am. Why are you here?"

“I needed to talk to her,” Johnny says stiffly.

“About you, apparently,” you say with your eyes on Joshua. 

“Right, so can you give us a minute?” Johnny asks with his eyes on Joshua.

“No, he can’t. If you have something to say, just say it. Then you can leave us alone,” you say.

“Fine, if you really want it to be like this, fine,” Johnny says. “I knew he looked familiar when I saw him at your parents’ house with you. It just took me a while. I ran into him at a couple of functions back when I was in college and traveling all around for my dad.” 

“Okay? And? I’m sorry, but I’m not sure why I care,” you say even though you know where he’s going.

“He was always with older women,” Johnny presses. 

“Can you just make your point so we can get back to our day?” Joshua asks.

“Fine,” Johnny says, irritated. “The whispers were that women paid him to come to the events with them. That he was selling himself to them.” 

You actually snort at the phrasing. It takes you several seconds to compose yourself. You wonder what the point of Johnny doing this and if it’s his way of trying to keep you on the hook. Then you realize that you don’t really care what he does. For the first time in forever, you’re genuinely happy. 

“I’m glad you think this is funny,” Johnny says. 

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I know how Joshua helped pay for his education. And like why am I going to give him a hard time over seizing an opportunity? There’s nothing wrong with profiting off of someone wanting his company platonically,” you say. 

“You’re assuming he wasn’t also sleeping with them,” Johnny says, a little stubborn.

“No, I’m not assuming. I know he wasn’t because we’ve talked about this. He told me all about it without even being prompted. And unlike certain people in my life, I have absolutely no reason to doubt him. I know I can actually trust him,” you say. “It was also years before we met. We’ve all got history.”

“Nice dig,” he says. 

“It’s not a dig, Johnny. Not everything is a slight,” you say with a sigh. “Where does Gabby think you are?��

“What?” Johnny asks. 

“Your wife,” you clarify. “Where does she think you are?”

“Oh, well, that’s not important. I just said I had some errands to take care of,” Johnny says and you roll your eyes.

“We’re done, Johnny,” you say.

“Wait,” he says as you’re moving to shut the door. “I know I fucked up, but…”

“There’s no buts. Not anymore,” you say. “Maybe there was a point where I’d want to hear the buts and the apologies and all that. I’m happy now, though, and you can’t even tell your wife that you came to see your ex-fiancee the day after your wedding.” 

“It’s not like…” he starts and you start to close the door at the same time.

“It’s exactly like that. Goodbye, Johnny,” you say. 

The second you close the door, you feel a giant weight lifted off you. You just feel tired. It’s obvious that there aren’t any feelings there anymore, so him pretending he cares as a pretense to see you just feels irritating.

“Are you okay?” Joshua asks, eyes raking over you.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you say.

“You sure?” he asks.

“Yeah, really. I think I knew when I saw him at my parents’ house that time you came over for dinner that I was completely over it,” you say. “I’m sorry he tried to bring something like that up or make it a big deal.” 

“I don’t care. It’s like you said, I did it and I’m not ashamed of that,” he says. “But, uh, I really wanted to thank you.”

“For what?” you ask.

“For defending me and for saying you trust me,” he says. It makes you a little shy for a second, so you look down.

“Oh, well, it’s not a big deal,” you say. 

Joshua closes the space and tilts your chin up to look at him. “It’s a huge deal to me. I know we started pretending, but trusting me means the absolute world.” 

“You make it easy,” you admit. 

That seems to render him a little speechless as well because all he does is pull you into him in the tightest hug he’s ever given you. Your body fits into his like a puzzle piece. Which sounds sappy, even if in your head, and you don’t actually care. It’s the safest and the happiest you’ve ever felt.

“What?” he asks when you pull away.

“Nothing, I just think this is going to work,” you say. 

Joshua smiles at you, that genuine smile he saves for when he’s at his happiest. “Yeah, I think so too.” 

i hope you enjoyed this fic! let me know your thoughts 💕

tag list: @aaniag, @gyuminusone, @crepecakeu, @tinyelfperson, @dokyeomkyeom, @amoryeonjun, @miriamxsworld, @hongrizoon, @klecksstorys, @sunflowergyeomie, @straykidswhoo789, @holistic, @vanishingboots, @babybae-shisui, @matchahyuck, @sonybear40, @kimseokgen, @hyneyedfiz, @miujunhui, @graybaeismytae, @hyucksrealm, @livixxn, @sharonxdevi, @coupsystar8, @sana-is-ms-rmty, @pyeonghongrie-main, @naajaeminsgf, @beomesbabe, @magicshop913, @deletingthekisses, @lissiesykes (strikethrough means i couldn't tag, check your settings!)

[whorekneecentral]

Only The Best For You

Kimi Raikkonen x Fem!Reader

Warnings: dad's best friend!kimi, reader is 20/21 - reader is old enough to make her own decisions, your dad isn't pleased with the gift, one mention of alcohol and one mention of death, sexual tension, kinda power imbalance, kimi gives into the intrusive thoughts, nipple play, fingering for like 0.2 seconds, one use of the word 'daddy' in a sexual way, penetrative sex (p in v), gagging, finger sucking, 'whore' used in a sexual/degrading term.

Word Count: 2,400

Author's Note: for all my dad best friend freaks and the kimi whores, this one's for you <3 -- also ignore that it's gucci in the pic but it's something different in the fic loool I couldn't find a different pic I liked.

merry smutmas series

--

Kimi spends the holidays with his old friends. He doesn’t forget you; bringing you exactly what you had been wishing for and you make sure to thank him.. properly.

An old L/N family tradition.

Since you were a child, your parents and grandparents allowed you to open one gift from them on Christmas eve, letting you enjoy the magic of Christmas a few hours early.

You were grown up now, in college and your grandparents had sadly passed on but your parents kept the tradition going. You had come home for Christmas break and it was Christmas Eve. Your parents have just finished dinner and you have moved to the living room.

It was yourself, your parents and your dad's best friend, Kimi. You had known Kimi your whole life practically but he was always away racing so you never saw much of him until lately, now that he's officially retired - for good this time.

"Shall we open gifts?" Your father asks, walking into the living room. He passed a glass of what looks like whiskey to Kimi, who was next to you, before sitting beside your mother.

She looks over at her husband. "Honey, isn't she too grown for that?"

Your father rolls his eyes, shaking his head. "It's a family tradition, now hush. Go pick a present."

Your mum picks first, picking one from your father that just so happened to be the new perfume she wanted. Your father was next and he picked out one from you. It's a story book he used to read to you as a kid, you had written all of your favourite memories of the two of you inside of it. You made him cry, both you and Kimi laughing about that.

"Go ahead, sweetheart." Your father nods towards the tree, you move from the couch to the floor, kneeling in front of the tree to pick out a gift.

A gift sticks out to you; red wrapping paper with little elves of it and your name written in cursive across the front of it. You pick it up, shaking it a bit to see what was in it.

It felt hard, as if it was a box. You looked towards your parents, "is it from you guys?"

Your dad looks towards your mom; she took care of all of the holiday shopping. The woman shakes her head, "it's not from us, sweetie."

The gift on your lap when you glance over your shoulder at Kimi. He gives you a small smile, so small you almost miss it.

He nods towards the gift, waiting for you to open it. You rip the wrapping paper very carefully, revealing the red box underneath; the gold lettering was cursive - Cartier.

Your jaw was already dropping, looking back at the man. "You didn't," you say and he nods again, waiting for you to open the box to see what was inside.

"Kimi, what did you do?" Your mother asks, looking over at your father. He was never one for brands or jewellery, he didn't realize that buying something there automatically was an expensive purchase.

Lifting the cover carefully, the velvet black fabric inside the box held a white gold chain, blue sapphires set along the entire thing.

If your jaw wasn't already on the floor, it would be now. "Kimi!" You turned to face the man, setting the box on the couch carefully. "You did not!"

"I did," he nods. He's always been a man of very few words; more of an action rather than words type of guy.

"What is it?" Your father asks and you hand the red box over to him for him to see.

He shows your mother as he holds the box, he doesn't realize that he's holding a little over €40,000 in his hands at the moment. "Oh Kimi, it's beautiful." Your mother gushes, handing it back over to you.

You were still on the floor, admiring the necklace in the box. "Well, turn around." Kimi says and you do, sitting just between his legs.

He reaches over to take the box from you and carefully takes the chain out of its box before you lift your hair. Kimi leans forwards and you can feel his fingers brush against your skin and his breath on your shoulders when he loops it around your neck and hooks the clasp.

"It looks gorgeous on you, darling." Your mom says, smiling at you.

Your phone's in one hand and your other hand gently touches the chain, straightening it as you admired how it looked on you. "Kimi, this is too much. It's so expensive." You whisper to him and he shrugs.

"How expensive are we talking?" Your father finally speaks, looking over at his friend.

Kimi answers nonchalantly; "Like.. €40,000."

Your father instantly sits up, his jaw hanging open. "What?! Kimi, are you out of your mind?"

"Please," he looks over at his friend in disapproval. His hand rests on your shoulder, his thumb passing over your soft skin. "She's a good girl, she deserves it."

You can't help but shift a bit when he calls you a good girl, the words hitting you right where you shouldn't. It was wrong, he was your father's friend and you were.. well, you were attracted to him. You couldn't deny it; Kimi was an attractive man and despite his lack of words, he was very charming.

"Y/n, say thank you. You can't not say it when he's spent so much." Your father tells you, and you turn around to face Kimi.

"Thank you, Kimi," you smiled at him, sitting on your knees when you reached up to give the man a hug. His arms wrapped around you, his warm hand pressed to your back. "You're welcome, angel."

Another nickname that hits you in all the wrong places.

--

As the night goes on, your parents head up for bed as do you. Kimi was the last one to bed from your understanding and as the house grew quiet, you tossed and turned, unable to sleep.

You find yourself sat on your bed, pjs on - a tank top and a pair of shorts with a €40,000 chain around your neck.

It was nearing 3am, the witching hours as your mum says. You find yourself getting up and heading downstairs. The initial thought was to go to the kitchen and get a glass of water but you got side tracked when you see a light coming from Kimi's room.

You knock, peeking around the space left between the door frame and the actual door. "Come in," he waves to you and you step in, shutting the doors behind you. The TV was on, a rerun of some show you couldn't quite place was on.

"What are you doing up?" He asks, glancing at his phone to check the time. "Do you know how late it is?"

"I couldn't sleep," you tell him, looking over at the TV. "Can I join you?"

He shrugs, nodding towards the empty space next to him. You quietly make your way over, sitting next to him on the bed. Kimi don't miss the way your shorts hike up when you crawl over to the empty spot; it's so wrong for him to be looking at you like that but can you blame the man? You were gorgeous and you were in his bed after all.

The two of you sit quietly, watching as the show rolls on into another episode. You unconsciously play with the chain, shifting it back and forth slowly.

Kimi looks over at you, smiling to himself; you were the picture of beauty.

"You're staring," you mumble, glancing at him. He smiles, like actually smiles. "You're beautiful."

Your cheeks are red, you hope that the light coming from the tv isn't bright enough for him to realize that just yet.

"It looks good on you," he says, "like it was made for you."

"Blue has always been my favourite colour." You smiled, glancing down at the chain. "Did you pick it yourself?"

He nods, "I saw it and thought of you, I figured you'd like it."

"I do, very much." You look over at him, Kimi smiles at you and your hand shifts from your thigh to his, rubbing along it softly. Kimi's brows furrow ever so slightly. He doesn't say anything, hoping that you'd stop if he ignores it.

You were persistent.

Your hand travels higher, about to rub over the ever so evident bulge in his shorts but Kimi catches your hand, holding your wrist. "We can't, y/n."

"Why not?"

"It's wrong," he whispers, glancing at the door - you weren't sure if he wanted you to leave or if he was catching to see if it was locked. You wiggle your hand from his grasp, Kimi lets out a small breath of relief; see, the man was stupid enough to think you were stopping.

You didn't stop. Instead, you got on his lap, straddling him with your hands on his shoulders. Kimi's hand rests on your lower back as he looks at you.

"Let me thank you properly," you whisper, lips ghosting over his.

Kimi reaches up, his lips pressed to yours but he's yet to kiss you. "You don't have too."

"I want to.. I want you," you mumbled, finally kissing the man. Your hand cupping his jaw, Kimi's hand slips under the tank top you had on and slides up your back to undo your bra but finds you don't have one on.

Kimi pushes the straps of your tank top down off your shoulders. You sat comfortably on his lap, letting him have his way with you and the man wanted one thing. He leans forward, arms wrapped around you as his lips wrap around your nipple.

“Kimi, fuck- please.” You mumble, your hand tangled in his blonde hair, tugging on it. As such as you loved the attention, you needed him.

He glances up at you, watching as your eyes fluttered shut. He groans when you pull on his hair a little harder but what's a little pain when he's making you feel good?

It was heavy, heated.

His hands on your body, pulling you over and onto him. You were perched on his lap, Kimi's hands on your ass when he kissed you again.

Not a word is spoken between the two of you and what little clothes you had on was gathered in a pile on the floor when he rolls you two over. You were flat on your back with Kimi settled between your legs.

“Please,” your hand rested on his jaw, “daddy, please.”

The pet name makes his cock twitch; it's sinful, so sinful in so many ways but he couldn't care less. You drove him mad.

His hand slips between the two of you, his fingers rubbing slow circles on your clit. Your hips lift, wanting more from him.

Kimi’s hand wandered a little lower, a finger pushed in slowly. He can feel how wet you are, wrapped around his finger and he smiles.

He moves his finger slowly, curling it. He takes pleasure in watching you, seeing how your face twists and how your body reacts to his touch.

"Please," you whimpered, "don't make me wait."

Kimi can't bring himself to say no to you.

He sits, pushing his shorts down and you get the hint, getting on top of him. Your hands grip on his shoulders, balancing yourself. Your knees on either side of his lap, Kimi's hand reaches under you to help you, the tip of his cock brushing against your clit, making your hip shift forward a bit. His free hand on your hip as you sink down onto him, his name tumbling from your lips.

You take a moment to get used to the feeling, your eyes fluttering shut as he rubs along your lower back, leaning into you to kiss down your neck.

You rock your hips forward and Kimi's head drops back, his eyes now closed. “Fuck, you’re perfect.” His hand pats your hip, “made just for me.” He tells you, your lips now on his neck - a trail of marks and sloppy kisses being left along his neck.

He pulls one of your legs up forward, pulling you down further. “Fuck,” you breathe, his thrusts faster and harder. How you wished you could scream his name right now. Kimi's hand drops between the two of you, rubbing your clit.

Your head falls back, manicured nails digging into his pale skin when he hits the spot he was looking for. He watches as you bounce on his lap, the sapphires around your neck bouncing in rhythm with you. His fingers that were previous on your clit now shoved into your mouth to muffle the sounds tumbling from your lips.

Your brows furrowed, an excited look on your face despite it all. You can feel his cock twitch in you, his lips next to your ear when he leans in.

"You've got to be quiet, angel. Wouldn't want them to catch you being a whore for me, hm?

You mumble something along an okay, your hips bucking, telling him you want more. Your tongue laps around his fingers, Kimi watches as you suck on them. There's a wicked smile on his face, his hips lifting to meet you halfway.

He lets you take over, setting the pace and using him for your own pleasure. Kimi leans forward as his lips wrap around your nipple. His tongue lapped over your nipple, biting on it softy; just enough to get you to arch your back, pushing into him.

“Come on darling,” he mumbles against your skin, now kissing up to your collarbone. Kimi's hand behind your neck to pull you down for a kiss. “Want you to cum for me.”

His arms wrap around you when you drop against him, your face buried against his shoulder, biting down to muffle the sounds. “Good girl,” he hums, rubbing your back.

Your heart beats out of your chest as you catch your breath. Kimi smiles, kissing along your shoulder. "Feel good?" He asks and you mumble something, your head resting on his shoulder.

"I take it I should spoil you more often, hm?" He chuckles, making you smile when you sit up. Kimi straightens your necklace, kissing your chin.

You shake your head and smile. "Don't have to spoil me for me to do that."

Kimi smiles at you, giving you a kiss. "Merry Christmas, y/n."

"Merry Christmas, Kimi."

--

taglist:  @nosugarallspice @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16 @books-and-netflix-pls @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @forza55 @norrisleclercf1 @allalngthewtchtower @therealcap @burningcupcakefire @stargirl36 @brettlorenzi3 @guiseppetsunoda @magnummagnussen @flippingmyshit @savrose129 @lovelytsunoda @irda12-blog @dhhdhsiavdhaj @slytheringirlthatkillpeople @f1lovers22 @toomuchdelusion @eviethetheatrefreak @faye2029 @lillians-world-is-f1 @chalando1604 @lenaxwbr  @im-obsessed @potashiuhm @lcxlerc16 @enjoythebutterflies3 @lillyfootballsworld @micksmidnights @mashtonbunny @chrlsleclerc @logischeroktopus

[01zfan]

paint you | l. at

swimmer!anton x art student!reader | 7.6k words

this fic has a little bit of everything good lord…set in uni, childhood friends to strangers to lovers, pining…very much a slice of life i think…i hope everything isn’t too scattered or hectic

contains: semi public sex, no protection (DON’T BE LIKE THEM)

you didn’t say a word as you watched the movers take all your belongings into your new home. you were like that now, completely silent as your form of rebellion. you had moved far away from everything you knew to come here. your mom was happy, talking about new beginnings and more adventures. you only thought about your going away card and bouquet of flowers you smothered to death on your way here.

you crouched in the driveway, drawing in the dirt with your stick as your mother called to you. you were no longer the sweet child that would come anytime their name was called. you only focused on the dirt and long lines you drew, imagining it was your path back home. you didn’t look up until a shadow was casted over you, and you saw someone foot over the line you drew in the dirt.

you looked up slowly, squinting as you took in the sun above the person looking down at you.

“my mom said i have to come say hi to you.” the boy said quietly.

you looked over to your mom, chatting with a lady while the movers continued to do all the work. you ignored the boy, looking back down at the path back home you etched into the earth.

“you don’t talk?” the boy asked.

you ignored him. you only continued to draw your lines, making your way to his foot. he took a small step backwards, letting you complete your line.

“i don’t like to talk either.” he said.

he crouched beside you silently and grabbed a stick. it was smaller than yours but still did the same. he started drawing shapes in the sand next to your lines and winding circles. you looked to him again, to see that he was focused on playing in the dirt the same way you were. you scooted over in the grass, leaving a space open for the boy to come next to you. he caught on immediately, moving from in front of you to be by your side. you two played in the dirt, pushing around the earth to mold it into shapes and lines. your mother’s got along, not noticing their kids getting their clothes dirty until it was too late. 

“anton!” 

both you and the boy snapped your heads to the voice of anton’s mother. seeing anton respond immediately to his name being called made you do the same. both of you got up from the dirt to walk to your mother’s and both of you were scolded the same, hearing a speech about how expensive clothes were. both of your mother’s were smiling the whole time, seeing their two antisocial and quiet kids get along. 

from then on, it was history. you stuck close to anton, trailing behind him in school, quiet and stealthy like a ghost to everyone but him. anton was understanding, becoming your representative anytime someone threw a glance over his shoulder to eye you, like they were confused if you were real or not. each time he would smile and pull you beside him, introducing you as his bestfriend. 

you and anton remained close. he was with you when you started speaking for yourself, no longer needing him to be your voice. you were with eachother all throughout school, spending more time with him than you did your family. 

the amount of time you spent together through swim and school made him know you better than anyone else. you were by eachothers side through the transition from kids to teens and the growing pains of puberty. you even made it through the trials and tribulations of being friends in highschool, surviving through the countless dating rumors that seemed to arise every week. none of it mattered, anton was there for you and you were there for him. you guys challenged eachothers personal records in swimming and were neck and neck in class. sometimes you were convinced he was the mirror image of you, your platonic soulmate. that’s what comes with the territory of being with someone for nearly twelve hours a day—you end up knowing them better than anyone else.

so it was unfortunate, after all the time you spent together as kids it was college that did you two in. you blamed it on the fact that you and anton both chose different paths in college. he stayed with swimming while you went to the arts. it called to you, the ability to make something with your hands. you never regretted your decision, but you did find yourself thinking about anton often. sometimes your mom would call and ask about him, and you would be forced to pretend like you had actually spoken to him and not just regurgitating rumors you heard on campus. the only truth you told your mom in relation to anton was that you passed by him on the way to class. that’s all you seemed to do, only seeing him in snatches as he walked around campus. 

each time you saw anton, something about him was different. he had somehow grown more, and his dedication to swim contoured his muscles and made him broad. he was visibly bigger than all of his friends, your eyes drawn to him each time he came in your vicinity. each time he waved back to you, the two of you reduced to sharing pleasantries while walking in opposite directions. sometimes it felt like it would’ve hurt less to be completely ignored, but you knew that wasn’t anton’s style. within his friend group he was the social butterfly, once he was able to get past his introverted nature he became the glue of his group, bringing all of them together and planning the gatherings. anton was such a social butterfly to the point that everyone seemed to know him, and before you knew it your friend groups began mingling and overlapping.

you were afraid you were going to regress back to the shy girl you were as a child when anton came to you at a gathering. you had practiced this moment, him approaching you and asked what you were up to now. you had your hobbies written down on your hand and your new interests saved to your phone. you had made a playlist of the songs you liked now and a folder filled with art from your class. you wanted to desperately show anton you had grown up too, that you used your hands to hold a brush instead of slicing through water and you smelled like oil paint now instead of chlorine. 

“how’ve you been?” anton asked.

he held a barely touched drink in his hand and you had a solo cup filled with soda in yours—neither of you were really fans of drinking.

“i’m good.” when anton nodded you looked around the living room of your mutual friend. everyone was mingling, engaged in conversation except for you too. “i read now.” you said abruptly.

anton smiled, tilting his head at your new hobby.

“what have you been reading?” anton asked.

“oedipus rex.” your grip on the red cup almost bent the plastic around your fingers when anton looked you in your eyes. when you held his eyes for too long you instinctually looked down at your feet, focusing on a crack in the floorboard. “it’s for class, but i like it alot.” you said to the floor.

“hey.” anton reached his hand towards you, making you pull your eyes back up to him. his eyes were warm, his smile lines made you smile too. “that’s cool, really.” anton assured you.

you suddenly felt comfortable, the imaginary tension dissipated like the smoke clouds around you two. you put your hands on your hips ironically and shrugged your shoulders.

“you know, it’s nothing.” anton laughed a little at your reaction, copying your little pose. “i read shakespeare during the weekends.” you joke.

“something light?” anton jokes back.

“you get it.” you say.

for the rest of the night, you and anton caught up. you talked about everything that happened between the last time you saw eachother, laughing at funny stories and eyes going wide when something scandalous was said. no time passed at all between the two of you, you went back to your old routine like it was second nature. you talked in every part of the house, sitting on your friends bed while talking about class then standing in the kitchen when you mentioned life at home. you guys stood by the restroom talking about life and next steps, and ended on the couch while the night was winding down.

even though you didn’t have a single thing to drink that night, you felt dizzy staring at anton. he had his arm on the back of the couch, head leaning against his closed fist as he listened to you so intently. you felt yourself forgetting some words, looking to him to fill in what you were forgetting. you saw his smile grow big as you talked his ear off about art—once he got you started you couldn’t stop. you related your major to swimming, how you get in the zone the same way you used to before starting relays. talking with anton about swim made you realize how much you missed it. you missed the camaraderie with your teammates, how it felt like they were the only ones who understood what it was like to be so dedicated to the water. you ended the conversation on a somber note, but anton looked wistfully at his hands as he recalled his own memories.

“i miss being in swim with you, but i’m happy you’re doing what makes you happy.” anton says.

he puts his hand on your knee and you quickly put your hand on top, enjoying that you have an excuse to touch him. his hand is soft like it always was.

“i appreciate it.” you don’t let go of anton’s hand, squeezing it slightly. “you should come to my class sometime. sometimes we get extra credit on assignments if we bring in live models.” you say.

“you want me to slut myself out so you can get an A for the semester?” anton asks.

you scratch the nape of your neck to hide embarrassment. you recover well, looking at anton jokingly.

“isn’t that what friends do?” you ask.

anton throws his head back to laugh. his hand on your leg squeezes your knee, causing you to move too. both of you laugh for a moment, but you can feel your face heating at the thought of anton posing for your class.

“maybe your next solo assignment.” anton looks forward at the party. a couple flirts in front of you guys on the shag rug, holding a joint to the others lips as they breathe it in. “i don’t know if i can do that in front of your whole class.” anton says, looking back to you.

you turn to look at the couple now, face feeling even hotter at the thought of anton posing just for you. you can’t stop your mind racing. suddenly you are inspired, the dynamic poses you see anton in flashes through your mind as you try to speak. you wondered if anton would be able to stay still as long as you needed him to, if he could keep his lips parted the perfect amount for hours on end. the ideas couldn’t stop flowing—you had to slightly shake your head to refocus.

“it wouldn’t be nude. i’ve seen it all before amyways.” you say casually.

when anton laughs shyly you turn back to him. he has a smirk on his lips, and you can feel your hands get restless. you want to paint his lips and his perfect teeth that show when he smirks. you think that if you were to paint it and show it to anton he would understand why you suddenly feel sheepish looking at him.

“first of all, you haven’t seen it all, you’ve seen my top half. second of all, i’m not that flimsy prepubescent kid anymore. i’m a man.” anton says, posing to show off his muscles.

you have to nod and smile to act like nothing is a big deal. you reach forward and poke his flexed arms for comedic effect. before you can say anything, the host of the party tells everyone it’s time to leave. the lights cut on and anton’s blushing face is revealed to you. when your eyes go wide he draws his hand away from your leg, hiding it behind a stretch.

“before i pose for you though, i’d like to actually see you again.” anton gets up from the couch, and holds out his hand to help you up. you grab it and stand right in front of him, looking at his broad chest. anton’s hands to to your shoulders, and you look up to him. “not just by chance at a gathering but like actually planning something out.” he says.

you nod your head. you find your hands to be restless again, the only way to get them to be still is to stuff them into the small pockets of your jeans.

“you have my number.” you say back.

“anton, let’s go.” you look and see anton’s friends beckon to him from the entryway. 

“were you drinking? you’re our DD.” another friend said.

“it’s literally kombucha.” anton shakes his head, and you can see the nonalcoholic text on the label. he faces you as he walks backwards to his friends, pulling out his phone. “i’ll text you.” he says.

anton turned back to his friends before you could say okay. when you walk out with your friends a few minutes later you felt the buzzing in your back pocket, and you open your screen to read the message.

let’s hang out tomorrow

this is anton btw

ever since that night, you started seeing anton everyday. whether it was a quick stop to eachothers dorms in between classes or eating together you were with him everyday. in a weeks time anton gave you the spare key to his dorm, emphasizing that you could crash there whenever you’d like. you had no sense of self preservation and neither did anton—both of you went all in, spending so much time together you started getting the urge to swim again. 

although you spent time together like when you were in highschool, there was a different feeling to it. there was a line you two silently set in the dirt when you got to highschool. you two came to the agreement then that friends didn’t hold hands, they sat on opposite sides of the couch, and had crushes on other people. it was upsetting, both of you mourned the loss of innocence and degree of closeness brought by skinship. but you guys were becoming adults, it was time to draw a line in the dirt the same way you did when you were children. sometimes you thought about the line, how it might’ve been the thing that drove you two apart. you two were on opposite sides, heading off in different directions. 

but time is a flat circle and you two went around the world to meet at the same line. this time, it was the division in his couch, the line down the middle that separated the two cushions the both of you sat on. a romantic movie played on the television in anton’s dorm, one about two people finding their way back to eachother. you scooted closer to the division in the couch and anton did too, still watching at the movie. 

that’s how it was at first, you two getting so close to the line until your thighs touched, but nothing more. you felt the cold sweats all over you body and heat across your cheeks and neck as your mind wandered to all the possibilities. his hand went to your knee first, the same way it did at the gathering. everything was different, the implication of being alone and him touching you made goosebumps spread across your skin. heat came from anton in waves, and you could smell chlorine and his body wash when he settled deeper into the couch, moving his body slightly towards you.

“i really like this movie.” anton said.

you nodded your head, feeling anton squeeze your knee. you tried mimicking him, relaxing further into the couch until you could lean against his body. when your head rested on his shoulder he visibly relaxed, lowering his body more to give you more space. his hand moved from your knee to your thigh, squeezing and rubbing what he could reach. you felt hot all over, trying not to read too much into how anton was holding you. 

anton was the one that crossed the line first. he stepped over the line in the dirt when he picked up your legs and moved them over his, coming completely into your space. a tiny sound left your mouth, you were excited, feeling static electricity across your body and inside your mind. you could only put your hands over anton’s as you got used to his touch. 

nothing happened that night, nothing seemed to happen when you guys would spend time together. it was grueling and agonizingly slow how you two were working up to being in eachothers space again. anton would hold you in the privacy of his room timidly, touches light as a feather like he was worried you’d flinch away. you were worried you were enjoying it too much, the way he’d look at you sweetly and hesitate when bringing the back of your hand to his lips. anton grabbed your hand while walking you back to your building, fingers lacing with yours casually as he talked about his schedule for tomorrow. the both of you could only speak absentmindedly and nod, too focused on how your hands fit together like puzzle pieces. 

even though you didn’t spend as much time with anton as you did when you were in swim, he still took up an unhealthy amount of your mind. the slow and delicate pace you two moved at burned across your skin, leaving your brain frayed at the edges. it was the worst when you were painting. you’d be focused on an object in front of you for a study and your mind would drift to anton. your fingers and your strokes would turn into half assed portraits of the boy you were getting close to again. it became an obsession, you were hiding your unfinished work of anton in the studio space, scared he’d find it if you put it in your room. 

just when it got to be too much, it was like the art gods were smiling down on you. your class got assignments to do a human anatomy study. you wrote down your name to rent the studio space to accommodate anton’s schedule that you now had memorized. when leaving class you texted anton, telling him about your upcoming project.

are you going to draw me like one of your french girls?

i’ll try my best.

you didn’t even have to ask anton to be your model. he agreed on the spot, only asking for the time, place, and how many clothes he needed to bring. he showed up to the studio shortly after his class, wearing a matching gray sweatsuit. anton had a duffle slung over his shoulder, and he held on tightly to the strap as he navigated his way around the studio space. he was unbelivably careful, almost tiptoeing around the half done sculptures that littered the floor. droplets from anton’s hair fell on the ground as he walked—he came straight from swim practice, not wasting the time to go back home.

you both hesitated before going in for a hug, making it an awkward embrace. you both knew the implications, and the tension made hairs on the back of your neck raise. anton patted your back twice, pulling away and asking about your day. his voice was sweet and nonchalant, but the blush appearing across anton’s cheeks told you he was nervous. you were the same, refusing to make eye contact as you stared at the zipper on anton’s tracksuit.

his hands rested at his sides when you were done exchanging pleasantries, trying to figure out what was next. you cleared your throat and motioned towards the block in the center of the studio surrounded by a circle of easels.

“just pose there however you’d like.” you pointed to the sheet neatly folded on top of the block. “there’s a sheet to cover yourself up with.” you said.

you walked past the block, weaving through a row of easels until you made it to yours. you focused on your name carved into the wood as anton rolled his shoulders to try and relieve tension. he slid his duffle down his arm first, and you had to stare at the blank canvas in front of you to stop yourself from stealing glances at anton’s body. his curly hair peaked out above the canvas, moving slightly as he got undressed. you focused on the curls when you hear anton but when you heard anton unzip his jacket you went to playing with the charcoal utensils. you had to duck your head when you heard anton’s jacket fall to the ground and him messing with the drawstring on his pants. you count the little paint splotches on the ground over and over again when you see the gray sweats pool at anton’s feet. you watch his feet as he steps out and makes his way towards the block. you hear him bump into an easel, how slow his steps are. you almost pinch your skin when you hear the fabric of the sheet move, hoping that the self inflicted pain will give you something else to focus on.

you refuse to look up until you hear anton’s voice in front of you.

“can you help me?” anton asks.

you realize it was a mistake inviting anton when you finally get the courage to look past the easel and at him. instantly you are bothered, watching anton sit on the block while looking at you hopelessly. anton’s stares right through you as you slowly walk over towards him, causing your palms to feel sweaty. you wipe them on your jeans a million times before you stand in front of anton. from up here you can see overheard lights in the studio reflect in his large brown eyes as he looks up to you.

you make minor adjustments to the sheet that wraps around anton’s body, trying not to focus on his smooth skin that’s exposed or the peak of toned muscle you see. you make the mistake of looking at anton’s abdomen as you move his legs to a more comfortable position. his stomach is chiseled, intense workouts carved anton’s body out of stone. no matter where you touch him he is so soft and so solid underneath your fingertips. you focus on anton’s shoulder, but you can feel him staring directly at your face. you move a piece of hair from anton’s face and travel down. you look at his nose before you can look at him in the eyes.

“looks good now.” you say.

before you can turn away anton’s hands go to your waist. he keeps them there, fingers splayed out but he applies no pressure. 

“what looks good?” anton asks.

you shrug quickly, trying not to shiver underneath anton’s look. he presses his fingers into your hips a little harder, and his thumb messes with the bottom of your shirt before slipping under. your hands go to his shoulders as he pulls you closer.

anton’s expression is almost pained when he leans his head back, blinking quickly before he opens them fully. his brown eyes almost look glossy when he focuses back on you. you see your reflection in anton’s eyes he pulls you in a little closer. your hands creep from anton’s shoulders to the nape of his neck. you let one of your hands splay across the back of anton’s neck, rubbing the pads of your fingers against his scalp. he leans his head into your hand with a sigh and a smile on his face. he brings your other hand that rests on his shoulder to his lips, looking directly at you when he kisses your hand.

he doesn’t stop at your knuckles. he works his way up slowly, moving his hand to graze over each kiss. you let him kiss you gently, and you let him pull you down until you’re face to face with him. anton stops at your tricep, his shaking hands still pressed to his trail of kisses.

“anton.” you say.

you close your eyes and lean in when anton looks back at you. for a moment you’re floating in space, heading towards the unknown. the thought of rejection flashes across your mind before you feel anton’s reciprocating, soft and gentle against your lips. 

you press into him gently, your hand fully goes into his curly head of hair to finger the ends and twirl them around your finger. anton’s hands hold your arms first, gripping them slightly as he brings you in place. when it’s not enough anton slides off the block he was sitting on, the thin sheet that was covering his naked body falls with him. more of anton is exposed to you but you don’t shy away, you place your hands on his skin and press into his solid frame. anton pulls you down to the ground with him, not breaking the kiss as you become more desperate. you two almost bump into the easels surrounding you, but neither of you can be bothered.

you cross the line of his lips to push your tongue into his mouth, and anton tilts his head so he can do the same. you guys find a rhythm, lips languidly moving in sync while your tongues press against eachother. 

“i rented out this space for the next hour.” even when anton pulls away from you while you keep a hand locked in his curly hair. “just us.” you say breathlessly.

anton hums and nods his head, pulling you closer by a hand wrapped around your waist. your back bows against his hold, giving anton space to drag his hands up your sides to grip your clothed chest. your shirt creases underneath anton’s hand, and you whimper when he presses his plush lips to your exposed collarbone.

“just us?” anton asks against your skin.

you nod your head vigorously when anton looks up at you from your chest, and you straighten your posture to try and bring your body closer to his. anton smiles, the creases in his eyes almost covered by the curls that cascade down the frame of his face. he presses his forehead to yours and the two of you look down between your two bodies. anton focuses on you two fitting together like puzzle pieces while you focus on his dick resting against his stomach. his tip is red and angry, the beading pre-cum making a patch of anton’s abdomen sticky.

anton pulls you onto his bare lap, his dick resting heavy against his stomach. his hands map your body, so desperate and unaware of his own strength that he overstretches the fabric of your shirt and causes you to move at his will. his hands mess with your jeans, pulling you closer by your belt loops. he rearranges himself on the sheet he used to cover himself as the charcoal staining your hands rubs off on his chest.

both of you are still, letting the weight of the situation sink in. your hand pressed against anton’s chest while the other grips his shoulder for stability. his hand on your chest, and the other on the small of your back as he splays his hand across the expanse. you look at your charcoal stained hand resting on anton’s chest. his heart thuds against your palm, mirroring the hammering in your own ribcage. your quickened heart rates effects everything, the way your breathing has turned into short huffs, the way your eyes flicker across anton’s face. the only thing that remains slow and steady is your hand as you drag it down anton’s chest. you make it past his heart, keeping eye contact as you trail down his stomach. when anton’s eyes close you let your hand finally wrap around his length, twitching and hard in your hand. 

anton sighs in relief, taking one hand off of you to prop himself up as he leans back. the other hand on your body doesn’t calm down. even with his eyes closed anton finds the bottom of your shirt, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat when you start pumping his dick. anton’s grabs at any part of your body he can get a viable grip on. he kneads the flesh on your stomach before reaching up and holding your chest over your bra.

when he opens his eyes again anton brings his other hand to you to lift your shirt over your head. you’re forced to take your hand off his dick to discard your shirt, but when it’s thrown somewhere in the studio you go right back to him. you don’t pay the sound of and easel moving or the sound of paintbrushes clattering any mind—you’re focused on something else. 

anton pauses only for a second, placing a kiss on your chest before he grabs a handful of you again. you go back to him, grabbing his dick in your hands. the slow pace you were going at previously was abandoned, you have waited too long to tease. the angle is awkward, almost uncomfortable—but the way anton’s eyes close and his mouth slightly opens in ecstasy drives your hand to go faster. anton’s precum makes your hand glide easily. the wet sound of you jerking anton off is subtle and quiet, almost as quiet as the whimpers that slip from anton’s mouth. you open your mouth too, mirroring the way anton whimpers pitifully when you tighten your hand around him.

anton lifts his hips and lifts you too, bringing both of you off the ground momentarily so he can fuck your hand. you look down at anton, how his body flexes to fuck himself and how his face is contorted in pure pleasure. you use your free hand to run over anton’s stomach, admiring the chiseled beauty in front of you. you can feel his abs ripple underneath his taut skin as you press your hand deeper into him.

“you look like a painting.” you murmur. 

when you start pulsing your fist around his twitching dick anton puts his hand over yours. he brings you both back to the present.

“i won’t last long.” he says sheepishly.

you can see anton’s face already becoming flushed, the blush adorning his face in splotches. anton pulls your hand away from his dick, placing your wet hand on his chest instead. you both start feeling eachother again, letting your hands feel everything in the calm of heavy breathing and occasional sighs. anton brings you in close, nudging your ear with his nose as he lets out a shaky breath.

“how do you want it?” he whispers into your ear.

“we have to be quick.” you say just as quiet.

anton nods, sliding you off his lap onto the sheet. he moves his body fast, resting on his haunches as he works the button of your jeans. the fact that you two are running low on time looms over your heads, and the thrill of getting caught makes you two desperate. anton’s dick is rigid in the air, twitching upwards when he imagines someone walking in on the two of you. 

you work your bra off your body, unclasping it quickly as anton pulls your pants down your legs. when he gets the denim down to your mid thigh he stops to abruptly lean over and kiss your exposed chest. it’s quick, a small peck right on your erect nipple. you wish you had more time with anton in this cramped studio, so you could whimper and while asking him to do it again. but you didn’t have time, and you were getting uncomfortable in your panties so you let anton pull your pants off the rest of the way.

anton pulls you in for a kiss, moving to stand on his knees and you do the same. he brings you in by an arm wrapped behind your back. you put your hands on his broad chest, letting his teeth clash against yours before pulling away.

“we have to be quick.” anton says.

he warns the two of you, but he still takes his time looking down at you and brushing hair behind your ear. being quick is lost on him as he caresses your cheek. he almost asks you how you’ve been before you pull away from him, turning around to get on your hands and knees.

“we have to be quick.” you echo.

anton laughs, looking at the position you got into so quickly. he doesn’t have anymore time to waste, he’s been doing that for the past fifteen years. so anton slots himself between your legs, letting his hard dick rest against your ass as he gets comfortable.

”i don’t have any condoms.” anton says. 

he looks at your dick rest against your ass, twitching each time you move.

“i’m on birth control.” you wiggle your hips, scooting backwards to get closer to anton. “i’m not seeing anyone.” you add.

“me neither.” anton says immediately.

you nod, moving your hand back to grab anton’s dick. he guides himself into your hand, and shuffles forward until his tip prods your entrance. he can see a translucent pearl of precum mix with your slick. anton grabs his dick where you held it previously, running his tip up and down your folds. he sees you sigh and shiver, pressing your hands flat to the ground to mentally prepare yourself.

“the door is locked right?” anton asks.

both of you look towards the small classroom door. it’s halfway across the room, but you can vividly remember turning the metal bolt. it was ironic how much you hated distractions in the studio but here you were on your hands and knees, the most distracted you’ve ever been in your entire life.

“it’s locked and no one comes here during the weekends.” you let out a sigh when you feel anton come closer to you. “it’s like if we were in the locker rooms on a saturday night.” you say.

anton visibly relaxes behind you, finding comfort in the fact that you remembered saturday night competitions. everyone cleared out of immediately when the swim meets were over, everyone desperately trying to enjoy the start of their weekend. by the time the meets were done there wasn’t a soul around, not even the cleaning staff. so it was truly just you and anton here, completely engrossed in eachother. he leans over to press a kiss to your shoulder blades before moving a hand to your ass. he spreads you out, wanting a clear view of you spread out. anton sighs, wishing he had the time to press gentle kisses to your bottom half. anton tells himself silently that you have no idea how well he’d eat you out, how he’d take his time and not stop until you begged him to. but time was of the essence and anton was getting impatient—he rubbed a hand down your back while he lined himself up.

“are you ready?” anton asks sweetly. 

you nod against the sheet underneath you. anton looks past your ass to smile at you. you’re so pretty with your lips pouted in anticipation anad your cheeks smushed from pressing into the sheet.

“yes.” you answer.

anton nods, and stays in the same position so he can see your face when he slides in. your eyes close instantly and your lips part, anton does the same as he watches you. he’s bewitched, locked in on how he’s making you feel. you suck him in more and more, and when anton bottom’s out he sees you bite down on your finger to stop yourself from moaning. he pulls all the way out before sliding back in, just as slow.

anton looks around at the easels surrounding your bodies, and the platform anton was posing on not even five minutes ago. he almost feels bad, he feels like he’s tainted the space you’ve created for yourself. he remembers when you used to be so shy you couldn’t look at someone in the eye, but now you gave presentations to seasoned artists about something as personal as art. he was proud of you, he thinks he loves you as he looks around and sees the art you’re working on. anton swears he sees a drawing pinned to the wall, an unfinished bust where the curls and side profile is unmistakable. anton looks down at your face, where you have tears prickling your vision and your teeth dig into your bottom lip. 

when anton notices you staring at him he sees your hand reach back for him. anton sees your other hand gripping the sheets, and how you slide forward each time his hips kiss yours. before he knows it anton reaches forward to grab both of your arms, causing your knees to move forward as you sit on the back of your legs.

when anton grabs your arms at your sides, he pulls you back to him. you grab onto his biceps, the only stability you have in your position. you can hear anton grunt as he thrusts forward, using his hold on your body to bring you back. each time he thrusts his hips forward he exerts his strength, nearly knocking the breath out of you each time. 

the sound of your skin slapping against his fills the room, and you can hear paintbrushes on the easels shake. your teeth digging into your bottom lip is the only thing stopping you from crying out anton’s name.

anton looks up from where he fucks you for behind, focusing on your nails that dig into his arm. he hisses from the pain, already feeling sensitive all over his body.

“feels good?” anton asks.

his voice is still sweet and airy as he talks to you. and you let a moan slip from your lips to let him know, and he sighs in response. the two of you can barely form sentences, becoming twitching messes as anton continues fucking you from behind. all communication turns to high-pitched whines and tightening grips from your hands. eventually it’s not enough, you let go of anton’s biceps to clench your fists to relieve the tension. he pulls your body back each time he thrusts forward, causing your body to jolt and the easels around you shake. you hear paintbrushes clatter against the linoleum floors far off in your mind, it barely registers when anton moans about how good you feel.

anton lets go of your hands and you plant them on the sheet. you can feel him behind you, his hand pressing into your stomach as he brings his sweaty chest to your back. anton continues to fuck you, a handful of your stomach in anton’s hands helps him drive your body backwards to meet his hips. 

anton lets a whimper slip from his lips as he presses his cheek into your shoulder blades. his thrusts turns to ruts, and his free hand starts gripping your ass. you start acting on your own needs, purposely clamping your walls around anton’s dick so you can feel every inch of him inside of you. you start pathetically pushing your hips backwards, trying to do some of the work.

anton brings his face forward, hitting deep inside of you as his body superimposes over yours. you can feel puffs of hot air fan your ear as anton presses his face into the side of yours.

“you feel so good.” anton whimpers into your sticky skin.

“your dick is perfect.” you whine.

“you’re so perfect.” anton moans when you clamp around him again. “you have no idea.” he says.

you can feel anton’s smile against the shell of your ear as he continues to desperately rut into you. his smile falls when your walls squeeze around him sporadically. you can hear the moans he tried to silence, how they recklessly slip past his lips. he’s loud, unmistakably loud. you think about the rare chance there’s someone on the other side, pressing their ear to the door as they try to make out the sounds they hear over the music.

anton realizes he’s being too loud, he moves his mouth to the crook of your neck so your skin can muffle his sounds. you can feel the vibration of anton’s voice against your neck, and his teeth pressing into your clammy skin to calm himself. hearing anton causes you to spasm around him more. you’re slowly losing control of your body, the same way you lose control when painting. you let the feeling wash over the same way your ideas do, following the strokes of your brush and the sound of anton’s whimpers becoming more desperate. his hand goes from your ass to your chest, kneading your breasts roughly as he pants into your neck. 

“i’m close.” you whisper.

you say it only for anton and for yourself, squeezing your eyes shut. you see anton pass by your eyes in a blur, all the times he’s looked like a painting you wanted to keep locked away in your sketchbook. the fleeting touches and palpitations in your heart seared to the back of your eyelids. just before the coil in your stomach snaps, anton pulls away from your body. 

“i need to see you.” anton says earnestly.

you’re on your back in seconds, laying on the white sheets anton used to cover himself. you can’t look away from anton’s wet eyes or his mussed curly hair. his chest is pressed up against yours in an instant when he pulls your legs to bring you closer to his hips. he kisses your forehead quickly, slowing down before kissing your lips then each cheek. you wish you could’ve kissed him back, but your brain was still foggy from being on the brink of an orgasm. only one thing is on your mind as you look at anton with big teary eyes.

“put it back in.” you nearly cry. “please.”

anton grabs his length, gliding it down your folds until he finds your hole. he doesn’t waste time sliding in, fully pushing inside of you. anton has to go to the crook of your neck to moan out his frustrations, feeling his hot pants bounce off your skin.

“i love you.” 

anton says it into the sweaty skin of your neck. if he had any self control he would’ve saved it for a better time, like a romantic dinner date or a trip back to your hometown. but anton can’t help it, he’s driven by needing you as close to him as possible. he tells himself he’ll confess to you properly again, when you both have time.

before you can tell anton you feel the same way, the words are taken from your throat as picks a brutal pace. you can only nod your head and pull your legs closer to your chest to help him hit deeper. you can feel anton everywhere, and you can see his curls bounce above your head as the ends become heavy from sweat. you can only pout, feeling your own eyes become teary from all the emotions.

“anton.” you whimper his name pitifully. anton puts one of your legs over his shoulder to free your hand so he can hold it.

“i know.” anton coos. he moans at the new angle and squeezes your hand tighter. “i know.”

when anton presses his lips to yours, you walls spasm around his dick again. this time anton doesn’t stop, driving his hips into yours while his name falls from your lips a million times. anton uses it as motivation, using the last bit of self control he has left to fuck you through your orgasm. when your legs become weak and anton’s name turns into incoherent babbles, he goes back into your neck.

“where can i?” he huffs.

you let your hands press into his shoulder blades, bringing his sweaty chest to yours.

“anywhere” you clench around anton, feeling yourself getting week. “don’t make a mess.” you mumble.

“fuck.” 

anton can’t hold on any longer, especially when your lips attach to his neck sucking harshly. he twitches inside of you and he goes as deep as he can one more time before stilling inside of you. your back arches from the ground when you feel him cum inside of you, hot and sticky in spurts. each time anton twitches inside of you his whole body shudders, and he lets out a sigh you think he’s been holding in for years. his grip of your hand never loosened, still white-knuckled as he presses your hand into the sheet. you let your leg wrap around anton to keep his waist in place and it’s your turn to coo at him now.

you two stay like that, sweaty chests heaving as anton stays inside of you. neither of you want to pull away, and you feel a pang in your chest when you can feel anton’s cum seep out of you. he pulls out, whole body shuddering as he slides out of you. 

anton taps your bent knee affectionately, and you nod your head as you try to breathe normally again. anton looks around the studio before pushing off your knee.

you see him meander around the studio for a second before wlaking to the paint stained sink. anton turns on the water and washes his hands before pulling out more paper towels than necessary.

he comes back to your body on the floor, wiping away the cum that seeped out of you and drying your sweaty face with another paper towel. you can only smile as anton cleans you up, and when he’s done he grabs your face in both of his hands and presses a fat kiss to your lips. both of you smile when he pulls away, and you run your hand through his curly hair.

“how much time do you have left?” anton asks.

[gingiesworld]

Fatal Attraction

Chapter Five

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader/Wanda Maximoff x Jarvis Stark

Warnings: Angst. Some fluff if you squint. Ick warning with Jarvis

Taglist : @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @marvelogic

18+ MINORS DNI

Wanda was extremely confused about everything, even when she returned to work the next day, Y/N remained at a distance but still treated her the same. Although she found it endearing, she also found it annoying.

"So, we only have a couple of meetings with some investors today." Y/N informed her as she nodded, handing them the files they needed.

"Do you want me to sit in or?" She 9questioned as they looked up at her.

"Of course." They told her. "We are still professionals." They smiled at her. "Besides, it will be going over the gala mostly, like how much we should donate to the cause."

"Oh." She whispered as Y/N looked at her, analyzing her face.

"I know the other day was extremely unprofessional." They started as Wanda shook her head. "I just need to say this Wanda." She sighed and let them continue. "I care about you, you're an amazing woman and your husband is extremely lucky to have you."

"Doesn't feel like it sometimes." She mumbled as Y/N gave her a soft smile.

"Look, I don't know what's going on in your home life, but I want you to know that I am here for you." They told her as she gave them a thankful smile. Everything seemed to have gone back to how it was, although the two kept thinking back to the kiss, they kept things professional. Even as they walked out of the last meeting.

"I'll file these, you go home." They told her as she just nodded, they took the files with them as she gathered her things, deciding to meet Natasha. Once she arrived at her friend's apartment, she had already had two glasses of wine ready for them.

"So, I am attracted to my boss." Wanda stated as she sat opposite her friend. "I just, they're being too perfect about the whole thing and it's just adding to it."

"What do you mean perfect?" Nat questioned.

"They are still treating me like they did before." Wanda told her. "Like the kiss never happened and they are blaming themselves." Nat listened as Wanda rambled on and on about Y/N, a smirk on her face as she only saw that look once before.

"You're falling for them." She stated as Wanda shook her head. "You are, the last time you looked like that when you spoke about someone was when you and Jarvis started dating."

"But I am married." She stated as Nat shrugged.

"Maybe you got married too soon." She told her. "You're only just fresh out of college and married literally after graduation." She filled the two glasses back up as she spoke. "And now he wants to start a family, it seems he is trying to trap you into being a stay at home mom and you deserve better than that."

"I." Wanda shook her head. "You're wrong. He respects me, he wouldn't do that to me."

"Wanda." Nat tried as she gathered her things, ignoring her friend's apologies as she left the apartment, heading straight home.

As the night of the Gala.came around, Wanda wore the light blue dress that Jarvis had picked out. It wasn't particularly a colour that Wanda would wear for herself.

"Are you ready?" Jarvis asked as he made sure he had his wallet, phone and keys.

"Yup." She spoke as she took one last look at herself, rolling her eyes at his lack of fashion sense.

Once they arrived at the Gala, it was in full swing, many people were conversing as they sipped on expensive wine and champagne. The music was classical as a vast majority of the guests were middle aged at the least.

Her eyes searched the room, finding Y/N as they stood beside Gwen, looking around at the other guests and chuckling between themselves. As soon as Y/N's gaze caught Wanda's, a smile formed on their lips as her stomach flipped.

"I'm going to talk with the Coopers." Jarvis told her, leaving her side without even a kiss on the cheek. She headed straight for the bar, Y/N approached her with Gwen as she smiled at the two.

"You look beautiful." They smiled at her as she nodded.

"It's not particularly my colour but he chose it." Wanda shrugged as she sipped on her wine.

"Well, he should leave you to do your own shopping." They remarked as their eyes found Jarvis Stark, laughing with a group of men. "He doesn't deserve you, Wanda."

"Y/N." She whispered, just low enough for them to hear.

"My apologies." They stood back as they ordered another drink.

"Aren't you drinking?" Wanda asked as they shook their head.

"I can't afford to make a stupid decision, not with you." They whispered before smiling at her. "Have a nice evening Wanda." With that she watched as they walked away. She spent most of the evening on her own, watching as Jarvis floated between the other guests, but she noticed how he stayed clear of Y/N. Knowing of their rivalry, the companies as Oscorp is a much bigger organisation since Stark Industries had halted a lot of their products.

"Come on." Jarvis pulled her with him to the bathroom, locking it before he kissed her roughly. Wanda was too caught up in the moment as he ripped her underwear away before he inserted herself. She tried to push him away before he came but he gripped her hard as she told him to stop repeatedly. Tears in her eyes as he soon came inside her.

"How could you?" She whispered when he pulled out.

"What?" He asked her as she just pushed past him and walked out of the bathroom. Her tears running down her face as she entered the ballroom.

"Wanda?" Gwen spoke up as she was on her way to the bathroom.

"I need to leave." She whispered as she tried to hold in her sobs.

"Come on." Gwen took her by the arm and led her to the parking lot, sending a message to Y/N who wasted no time in getting there.

"What's going on?" They asked hurriedly as she pointed to Wanda, their heart broke as they saw her red teary eyes. "Let's get you both home." They said as Wanda shook her head.

"I'll get an Uber." Gwen suggested as Y/N was about the protest. "She needs you now Y/N." With that she left the two.

"Come on." They whispered as they closed the car door, heading around to the driver's side and starting the journey, opting to go to their own apartment.

"What happened?" They asked her as they led her to their sofa, kneeling before her as Wanda kept her dress covering her exposed sex.

"He." She tried as she took a deep breath. "He came in me. I told him to stop. No. But he didn't."

"Here." They held out their hand, leading her to their bedroom. "Have a shower, use whatever clothes you find in the closet." They grabbed their keys again.

"Where are you going?" She asked them as they gave her a soft smile.

"The pharmacy." They told her. "I'm going to get the plan B for you. I'm not having him get complete control over you or your body. He doesn't get to have that." She smiled as they pressed a kiss to her forehead before leaving. Wanda wondered what it was about them that made her feel so safe.

She made sure to scrub her entire body, letting the hot water burn her skin, tears escaping her eyes as sobs racked through her body. She had no idea how long she was in there for but Y/N had returned, knocking on the door.

"Wanda?" They called out. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah." She whispered as she opened the door, a towel wrapped around her form.

"I got you the plan b." They told her softly. "You also have an appointment with my doctor, you can use the company's health care insurance."

"You didn't have to." Wanda whispered as Y/N shook their head.

"I know I didn't." They smiled at her. "I don't know why but I care about you deeply and that is strange for me because I never really let anyone in or see the real me but you." They sighed as they gazed in her eyes. "You've broken me down Wanda, you make me unafraid of being who I truly am." With that they left the bedroom, heading straight to the kitchen to make some coffee, giving Wanda the time on her own. She can't deny that she feels free when she is around them, she feels seen and heard. Her opinions matter to her.

[raapija]

OKAY, HERE WE GO FINALLY

So, let me introduce you to Nando's Nuggets aka his three little McChildren aka Carlito, Landito and baby Oscar 😘😘😘 (...aka the ultimate nepo baby trio of F1)

This kind of (I feel like this is a hedcanon more) belongs in the pookie au, go check it out ! ->

Huge thanks to everyone in my inbox for fueling this obsession 💚

Lando was a happy little accident born when Fernando was just 18. The relationship with Nando and Lando's mom, Ms. Norris, was pretty chaotic and turbulent and they ended up breaking up before he was even born. Lando stayed mostly with his dad and grew up as a grid-baby with other F1 drivers taking turns in babysitting him. He went through school in the UK since Nando kept his residence there most of the time and Lando got the English accent from there. He's always been around motorsport and it was just a matter of time before he would end up in F1.

Lando and Oscar grew up apart from each other, as Oscar was living in Australia. But whenever they were together while it was Nando's turn to have Oscar for a week or so, it was the highlight of their childhood. They got along well since they were pretty close in age and quite similar in other ways, too. Lando's mom wasn't around a lot when he was growing up, but as of lately, she has reached out to him again and is in good terms with the whole bunch.

✨✨✨

After Fernando separated from Landito's mom in the late nineties, he got together with this little known Aussie GT driver named Mark Webber. It was love at first sight and they had a really strong bond from the very start. They decided to get a kid together, which was wild since both were quite young and because of how difficult it was at the time for two men to get a child together. But, they somehow pulled through it and in April 2001, baby Oscar came along. (He is biologically Nando's through a surrogate) After a few quite happy years with this little family of two boys, Mark and Fernando eventually started to drift apart and the relationship fell flat. Through a mutual decision, they broke up and Oscar went off to live with Mark in Australia. Fernando still spent a lot of time with Oscar of course, but it was never enough. It was always sad to say good bye at the airport.

As time went on and Oscar grew older, he wanted to stay in the UK more. He got interested in karting like his two other brothers, and eventually moved over to try and make it into motorsport and connect better with Nando's side of the family. Mark was still very much around as he became Oscar's manager and pulled all kinds of stunts to get little Oscar in the best possible teams. Mark and Fernando are still very good friends and get along well. Oscar is definitely the most spoiled of them all.

✨✨✨

Carlos was an absolute menace and a troublemaker when he was young. When he was around 13-14, he took part in one of Nando's karting camps in Spain and that was really the only thing the kid was interested in. Later, tragically, Carlos would lose his parents in an accident and since he was such a difficult child, no one would take him in. But alas! Fernando heard about it and since he had seen how talented and passionate Carlos was about driving, he wanted to give him a chance and enrolled him into more karting classes at his own expense. Eventually, they became close and Fernando figured out since nobody else was gonna have him and the poor kid needed a proper home, he adopted him. Carlos immediately took the role of big brother to Lando and Oscar and would start to settle down since he now had a responsibility to be their role model. In time (and with lots of trial and error), Nando raised Carlos to be a sensible and well-adjusted young man who could safely be let out into the world knowing he was gonna be okay.

Carlos' protective nature over his little brothers and dad resulted in him beefing with Lance for years since he didn't exactly like the idea of his dad dating a guy who's four years younger than him. When Nando and Lance got married, it was finally enough proof that Lance wasn't going to leave and break his dad's heart like others had before. Now they're in good terms and Carlos thinks of him quite fondly, but will never admit it. Fernando is incredibly proud of how far Carlito has come and how he's now at Ferrari.

Lance has a pretty good relationship with the bunch overall despite Carlos' apprehensions. He often takes Lando or Oscar on fun trips and likes to hang out with them. Carlos sometimes asks Lance to go golfing with him since he can actually give him some competition.

It's strange for everyone that their step-dad is almost the same age as them (and younger, in Carlos' case), but somehow they make it work. He never actually considers himself to be a parental figure to them, more like a weird kinda fun uncle 🤷 It's weird, the whole family is weird, but they make it work. ❤️

Family portrait:

+This son inherited the magical powers:

[bagopucks]

N. Hischier - It’s My Footwork

✄————————————

Nico Hischier x Fem!dancer!reader

Word Count: 4.1k -almost-

Warnings: none?

I apologize for any typos. There’s only so many times one can read through 4 thousand words before dying inside.

—————————————

Ever since I was two, I have loved music. I blame my mother. When I was four, I saw ballerinas for the first time. My mom took me to see the Nutcracker at our local theatre. I fell in love with music all over again, but more importantly, I fell in love with dance.

I’ve danced my whole life. Ballet and Acro had been my favorite classes, but I took others. It was expensive, but my family had no issue paying for it. I consider myself lucky to have had the opportunities I did growing up. Because of that gratefulness, it fueled my dream to become a dance instructor on my own one day.

I opened my studio in the heart of New Jersey. Business was slow at first, but I had classes open for all capable ages. I loved meeting the kids and even the adults who came in curious to learn or pick up a therapeutic hobby. I was never one to offer solo classes unless it was for a child who was new and needed to catch up with their age group. But I made one exception.

The bell to my studio rang, barely audible from the room I was in. I heard a deep voice speaking to my best friend who worked at the front desk. We met through her job application. Within the year she’d been hired, we got a sizable apartment together, and I’ve loved every second of our time spent with one another.

“She’s in the back. We just had a class end.“

I’ve had parents come in before about a late payment, or more commonly, bullying that I could only so much about. I assumed that’s all it was.

As I stepped out of the studio room and into the lobby, I was met with the face of a man I had never seen before. His sharp features, thick brows and dark hair was unrecognizable. If he had a daughter or son, they certainly took after their mother in appearance.

“Can I help you?” I spoke up, smiling at the man as I crossed the floor to meet him, leaning against the tall front desk.

“I was.. I need some help?” The man sounded confused, and his furrowed brow only solidified my theory. His eyes darted between my friend and I, as if waiting for one of us to offer something- though we didn’t know what that was.

“You wanna dance?” My friend piped up, a condescending tone in her voice. She dealt with men who were too prideful to admit what they were doing there before. She had no patience for them. This one though, seemed nothing like that. Especially when I watched his eyes go wide and a nod follow. He looked relieved.

“We have different types, was there something specific you were looking for?” I try to sound nicer than my friend.

“Something.. maybe- something with strength? Or endurance. And stamina?” His accent was thick compared to an American one, and the words he used made me wonder where he’d come from. He was either looking for something incredibly specific, or trying to sound smart.

“I have ballet. It’s difficult, but it’s good on muscles. It helps strengthen your legs. Can you do some paperwork for me?” The man nodded and I looked toward my friend. She quickly handed over a clip board and a pen, which I handed off to the man. He mumbled a polite, ‘thank you,’ and took a seat to fill it out.

I watched him for the fifteen minutes it took to fill out the pages. He wore a t-shirt of the city’s hockey team, something that I found normal considering we operated in the middle of the area. There were bound to be fans. My gaze studied his posture, but at some point it shifted to the way his dark hair fell and framed his face while he leaned over the paperwork. I smiled at the sight of batting eyelashes and the way his brow would knit together every so often at something he had to think of before answering. He was handsome.

Once he finished, the man brought the paperwork back and handed it over. I looked over the basic information before my gaze turned up to him. The man’s lips were pursed as he looked rather impatient. Or was he anxious?

“Okay, Nico. We have classes for your age group on Thursdays at five-“

“No!” His outburst caused both myself and my friend to look at him in shock. “I’m sorry- it’s just… it’s for personal reasons. I need this for work, and- I don’t work well with..” I watched his expression shift into one of embarrassment, and his hand wave in a dismissive way. “People.” A blatant lie.

“Uh huh,” I immediately slapped my friend’s shoulder when she piped up.

“Jessie, please.” I tried to calm her down, but she shook her head.

“It’ll only be for a few months.. I know I’m asking a strange thing, but it would help greatly.” I’ll blame it on his looks, and the desperation in his tone. I gave in to the man’s request with a reluctant nod. Who was I to ask what his job was? If he needed it that badly, I wouldn’t turn him down. I was helping somebody, I was sharing what I loved, and there was still money involved.

“Better put an extra ten bucks on his bill.” Jessie commented as she looked back to her computer. The man made no effort to argue, but I still let out an exasperated sigh.

“Jessie!”

——

We compromised on Sundays. Nico said those were most likely to be the days he would consistently have off. I still didn’t know what he did, but he told me his schedule was often sporadic. Jessie thought it funny to suggest adult films. Saying his reluctance to work with others was merely out of anxiety not to be noticed. I told her she was crazy.

Sundays were my least busiest days. I was at the studio alone for the first few hours before Jessie came in. By the time she was heading out for lunch, Nico was just stepping in. And I took note of the way he held the door for her. And the way she still wasn’t ready to give in to the idea that he might just be a good person. Nico had on a pair of black shorts, which I was thankful for considering we hadn’t discussed the dress code or what was best for ballet.

My expression nearly dropped when I realized the absolute shit show I was about to experience. Teaching a grown man ballet on my own. One who was tall, and decently built. I’d handled this type in classes before. They usually ended up needing six feet on every side so they wouldn’t hit or kick somebody. My gaze travelled to notice he was wearing a similar shirt to the one from the week before. This one was white with a tiny thirteen on one of the shirt sleeves. So he had a favorite player.

“Kick your shoes off and follow me.” I heard the light clutter of two shoes hitting the floor before Nico followed. “Are you flexible? At all?” I stepped into the studio, the man following behind before I pushed the door halfway closed. Safety was always a concern of mine. When working with kids, or working solo with random men. The door was never entirely shut.

“A bit?” Nico’s response left me at a loss. Guess we’ll find out.

“What do you like to listen to, Nico?” I made my way across the room to the small table against the wall. I grabbed my phone and looked back at him with expectant eyes.

“Swiss rap?” He was clearly testing the water, a nervous smirk upon his lips.

“Try again.”

“ABBA is fine.” I nodded, going to pull up an album full of ABBA’s greatest hits. ‘Does Your Mother Know’ came on over the few speakers in the room. When my gaze lifted to this man, I almost lost my composure. Tall, dark and handsome liked ABBA.

“Come on,” I managed a quiet giggle as I set my phone down. Nico met me in the middle of the floor. “We’re gonna stretch. That’s step one. Just do what I do.”

Nico struggled with understanding a few stretches, but each time I explained it a little slower, or helped him contort his body in whatever form it was supposed to be in. I heard a few ‘Jesus Christ’s’, but it only made me laugh. And each time I glanced at him in the mirror, it seemed my laughter fueled a bit of his own.

The few times I had to actually touch Nico, I relished in the firmness of his muscles, and the hilariously hopeless look in his eyes while he tried to understand what I was doing.

An hour passed before I felt like I had a good gauge of his flexibility. He was stretchier than I would have assumed, and it brought me some relief to know his body was at least flexible enough for ballet. The real question was, did he have grace and rhythm?

I spent the next hour explaining basics and getting Nico further out of his shell. When it came time to actually try a few things, I remained as patient and kind as humanly possible. Until I could no longer control myself.

“I don’t understand! You’re not making this easy!” Nico’s distressed but amused voice filled the studio along with my own laughter. I was hunched over with my hands on my knees, watching him through squinting eyes as he stood in the most awkward position I may have ever seen. He looked like a three year old. “Tell me again!”

I loved that no matter how many times he didn’t understand, Nico insisted to retry it. He liked the challenge. Over the few moves we did get down, I learned that he had a nice core strength and great control over his own body. And maybe a little bit of grace. After I came to terms with that, I threw adult film making completely out the window. He was in another business. I just didn’t know which one.

“I think maybe ballet is not for you.” I teased as I stood upright, making my way over to the amused but nonetheless frustrated man. “You’re so-“ I tried to put my finger on a word. “You move like a child.” And I knew why. Because he had no prior experience. Nico’s eyes went wide as his jaw dropped and his lips turned upward into a smile. 

“What is it? What specifically is it?” Nico insisted I tell him, but there were too many things to possibly name one.

“It’s my footwork?” The question was phrased as a statement, and I was quick to nod. He hit one of the many nails on the head.

“Well then what would you suggest instead? I need this to help with my footwork.” He dropped the hint, but I stored it in my mind for later.

“I don’t even know what to suggest. I guess we just try again.” I shrugged and smiled, incredulous. That’s what I did with the kids.

Try and try again, fail and fail a little less. Nico slowly began to catch on, though I relentlessly teased him when he failed. He took it like a true champ. I never noticed when Jessi came back from lunch, or that I had missed my own. Or that Nico had been there a lot longer than he was supposed to be. Until Jessi gave a gentle knock at the door and opened it to inform me of the well overdue departure of my new friend, or student.

——

It continued like that for weeks, Nico coming in on Sundays, greeting Jessie before she left for lunch, and joining me in the studio with a bright smile. As his visits came and went, I could tell Jessie was growing comfortable with him. And I could say the same for myself. Nico was so kind, and incredibly personable. I enjoyed not only the moments when he stumbled over a dance, but also the moments when we took breaks to sit and talk. Or when he needed help with a word or two. I learned he spoke German, and very good English, but when it came to the French of ballet, his accent did not do it justice. We often giggled over the way he pronounced things.

As the first month passed, I began to feel the dread of losing him. While also coming to terms with my feelings for him. Nico was just getting good. Good enough even that I could dance with him. But I remembered him saying it was only a few months. I still didn’t have a specific number, but I didn’t want to lose him. By the second month, I went into each Sunday with dread that he might not even show up. Or that he might randomly call and cancel.

This particular Sunday afternoon, I got a message saying that he had to miss out on our lesson for work. I told him it would be fine, that I’d miss him and we could reschedule. An hour later I got a text back saying, ‘you can come visit me at work?’ And another after, ‘Jessie can come too :)’ he knew how much I loved Jessie. He even enjoyed her snarky behavior from time to time.

I was given an address, and perhaps at that point I should have known where we were headed. But it hadn’t dawned on me until Jessie was flustered searching for a parking spot in the middle of traffic and crowds of people, that we were attending a hockey game.

“Fuck. Jess we don’t have tickets?” It was the first thing that crossed my mind. I didn’t think Nico was a player, or maybe he was. But the bottom line was that we weren’t getting in without tickets.

“He sent them to me.” My brow furrowed in confusion, peering at Jessie with a lost look until brow shot up in realization.

“You’re in on this?” I almost shouted, but I got no response as we pulled into a parking garage. “This is why I was supposed to dress nice? God- to a hockey game? Where there‘s beer and food everywhere?”

I wasn’t wearing anything particularly fancy. Only my favorite leather jacket and a pair of white jeans, matched up with a faded grey band shirt. My converses matched the black of my jacket, and my silver jewelry was the icing on the cake. Especially my rings, which I’d always loved.

“We have good seats. I think we’ll be fine.” Jessie’s nonchalance about the entire situation had me in disbelief from the moment we got out of the car, to the time we entered the arena. It was busy, full of life. I had no problem with crowds, but this was an entirely new situation. I was lost in more ways than one.

“We’re gonna miss warmups if you keep gawking.” The sound of people talking filled my ears, along with the shouted offers of men trying to sell alcohol. Kids excited and screaming.. some girl going on about a boy named Jack Hughes. I feel like I met a Jack once? With light brown hair and too much energy for my taste. And he had a drawl in his voice that caused his words to sound slurred or unfinished. God I hated it. But he was nice.

“Warmups?” I did not understand the concept, but I allowed Jessie to drag me through the stadium nonetheless. We found an usher who helped us to our seats, and with each step down the case that led us closer to the ice, I felt my stomach turning. The atmosphere was electric. It had me excited for a sport I knew nothing about. Once we got to our seats, I discovered they were right next to the tunnel one of the teams came out of. My body was buzzing, my hand absentmindedly gripping Jessie’s arm for dear life.

“Unhand me before I kick you,” Jessie threatened, prying my hand from her arm. At one point I looked up at the Jumbotron, realizing that whatever warmups were, they happened in fifteen minutes.

Fifteen minutes later, I heard people screaming and shouting, erupting into cheers and boos as the team that wasn’t ours, entered the ice. Soon the New Jersey team did follow. The Devils. And I began to second guess my theory that Nico was a player with each face I watched leave the tunnel. I noticed the Jack boy, comparable to a jack russel terrier from the way he bounced down the hall and onto the ice. Then the last body, clad in a red jersey, and those thick eyebrows, I noticed Nico. Holy shit… Captain Nico.

“Nico!” My voice erupted with pride as I shot out of my seat. That was my dancer. My Swiss weirdo who listened to ABBA and loved Meryl Streep. It seemed he recognized my voice, or maybe he was only looking to see we made it. His lips turned up into that smile I loved so much, and I reached forward to bang on the glass like everybody around me. I never liked sports, but I certainly had the aggression and thrill to be a fan. Me excitement made him laugh, extending his stick to tap the glass where I was before skating by.

Jessie had her head in her hands, trying not to be seen by literally anybody else.

“Jessie! This is- oh my god!” I had no words. Of course I had no words. And I was lost for them for the entire game. Aside from Nico’s name, incoherent screaming, and any word that fell from my lips when the refs made any call against the Devils. Which were usually profanities.

Nico had two assists through the game, and a goal in the third period. It was an empty netter, but I was prideful all the same. The goal horn erupted seconds later, signaling the end of the game. I jumped up like everyone else, and I watched him dig the puck out of the net. I wondered what Nico was up to until I saw him skate toward the boards on the other side of the ice. He flipped the puck off his stick and right over the boards. My heart melted as some kid snatched up the rubber object and smiled.

I loved sharing my craft with young generations. It seemed Nico did as well. People began to clear out, but I noticed a bulk staying. I didn’t know why until the lights dimmed and the three stars of the night were announced. The third was Jack. The second, the opposing team’s player. The first, Nico.

“What a brilliant game played by your team tonight. I’m sure you’re all buzzing with excitement?” The announcer sounded as jovial as the rest of the crowd, who had barely finished cheering for their captain by the time he began speaking.

“It was an amazing game. We played well.. remained on our feet.. we did good.” I could sense Nico’s determination from here. His pride in himself, but more importantly his team, radiated.

“Now, after you came back from your leg surgery, there were a lot of questions about your skating ability. Can you tell us how that affected your gameplay?”

“It was.. it was hard. I don’t like to listen to what people say. It’s not always great for your mentality. But- I worked hard and, I’d like to think I persevered.” He must be used to this.

“What did you do to fix that? Your first two games back, there was definitely some weakness in your left leg there. But now you look like a racehorse on the ice. How did you manage to change that?”

A smile formed on Nico’s lips. He looked like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “I had somebody help me. She uhm.. she helped with my leg strength and balance and- all the edgework.”

Edgework. Footwork. That little shit. It was right under my nose the whole time! His shirts, his number- it sounded horrible, but even his nationality should have tipped me off. How many Swiss hockey fans did someone just randomly meet in New Jersey? Of all places.

“Did she get paid well for accommodating the captain of the New Jersey Devils?” The reporter asked with a playful grin.

“Yes, and an extra ten per hour.” Nico laughed.

“You really charged him that extra ten?” I whipped my head in Jessie’s direction. She was caught red handed.

“He wanted to!”

“She’s gonna get a kiss after this though.” I almost missed it. Trying to scold Jessie, I almost didn’t catch the comment Nico made. But I did catch it. And my head immediately whipped back to him on the ice. The reporter was in the midst of congratulating him one last time on his game before Nico walked off down the tunnel.

“Jessie-“ my best friend was already laughing, swatting at my leg from where she was seated. “What do we do? We should leave.” She shook her head at me.

I wasn’t running from Nico, I was just nervous. “I should go to the bathroom..” she nodded at me, allowing me to run off up the endless flights of steps and navigate my way through the crowd to find the bathroom. I checked my makeup in the mirror, my legs feeling like jelly at the disbelief of what was to come. I had to have heard him wrong. I adjusted my shirt eighty times, and even thought about leaving before ultimately deciding I could not steal Jessie’s car. I wanted to kiss him. Of course I did. It’s all I wanted.

When I got back from the bathroom, most everybody was gone, and Jessie was still seated in her place, feet up against the glass with her arms across her chest. When I returned to her side, she smiled at me.

“Hold my phone while I go to the bathroom?” I nodded, taking her phone from her and slipping it into the pocket of my leather jacket before zipping it up.

Jessie was gone in a flash, and I was left staring out at the ice, bouncing from one foot to another before I heard my name. I turned quickly, looking at the figure practically sprinting down the steps.

We both had the same thing in mind. I heard Nico’s comment, and he had that piercing determined look in his eyes. By the time he reached me, he was holding his arms out- possibly for a hug. That’s not what I wanted though.

“Can I-“

I gave him all the permission he needed by crashing our lips together. Nico tasted like cocoa pebbles, and I had to pull away to mumble something about the sweetness before he giggled and reconnected our lips. His hands held my cheeks, and mine his hips. By the time we pulled away again, we were both heaving for air. Nico more so than myself considering the marathon he ran down the steps to get to me.

“I had a snack during the second intermission.” It was like he could read my mind, answering my unspoken question while our foreheads pressed together. We smiled and laughed.

“Of course you did,” I responded softly, pulling back to shake my head at him.

Nico giggled with a nod. “Are you hungry? I could use a date to my celebration tonight.”

“Yeah.. but I’m gonna need some explanation on all this.” I gestured back to the rink, earning a laugh from him.

“Anything you want to know.”

Nico and I made our way back up the steps together, meeting Jessie at the top where she had been waiting for us.

“So.. she’s yours for the night?” Jessie asked, earning a fist bump from Nico. My brow furrowed in concern that this entire plan went over my head.

“I’ll have her back by twelve.” Nico promised as he snaked an arm around my hip. I melted into his side.

“Eleven, Romeo. Or I’ll track you down on snap map and fist fight you in a fancy restaurant.”

Nico mumbled a quiet, ‘oh boy’ before nodding.

We were not back by ‘curfew.’ Hell I never even went home, but I shot Jessie a message when Nico let me into his own place, informing her that I was safe and Nico would keep me company for the night. She sent me back an emoji with a hand over the mouth. Then one saying, ‘updating Facebook status to Aunt.’

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

[themanifestingbrat]

Favorite things I've manifested using the law.

Dating my sp There was a third party and "challenging" circumstances but I truly did not gaf. I persisted by saying that's my boo anytime I saw or thought of him, ofc seeing him all the time helped.

Desired apartment When I was moving with my mom, I fell in love with the first apartment we toured. I told her that's the one and despite her doubts and concerns, I didn't care. There was no way in hell I was going to live anywhere else. The application and move in process was extremely easy.

Desired jobs Pretty much every job I worked at, I manifested. Whether it was me simply imagining myself working there, "hearing" the call back that I was hired, or also "hearing" a family member saying they were proud of me.

$200 I felt like I had "blocks" in regards to money so I chose a small amount to manifest. Just claimed it and thought about what I was going to do with it. Came in less than three days. Randomly saw the amount around $300 added to my bank account from the government I think??

Desired friend Despite both of us being in two different cliques and having only a few classes together, I thought she looked so cool and just wanted to be friends with her lmao. I think I initiated conversations with her at first but then before I knew it, she was coming over to my house and we would hang out after school a lot. We are still close to this day.

Free drinks/food This is easy since I already had people always buying me free shit. So whenever I wanted to eat but didn’t want to pay, someone somehow always came through!

People's response/reactions These are usually instant because I'd immediately assume what they would say before they even get a chance to. I would simply imagine their response in a way that felt real and go from there.

Braces This one took me so long to manifest because I would not let it goooo! I wanted to fix my teeth so fucking badd. But after finally giving up and not caring about it anymore, randomly my parents just said they’ll pay for my braces.

Beauty I was hella insecure even though I always been told that I was beautiful. I didn't want to be beautiful tho, I wanted to be hot, cool, and sexy. I wanted to be desired and pull people left and right. I started to just tell myself that I was hot regardless of my insecurites. Now, while I didn't manifest any major appearance changes, just my mindset and confidence (maybe a lil makeup too) helped. I now can pull anyone and have people constantly staring at me, calling me hot, gorgeous, stunning, etc.

Desired School I was in my senior year and happened to tour a prestigous fashion school. Even though it was hella expensive and not everyone could get it in, I wanted to go to school there just for status lmao. I persisted and got accepted! Now, if only I could've manifested my parents to not force me to go to college...

Desired Sister I used to bitch and complain about how my sister is irresponsible, inconsiderate, and rude all the gotdamn time. But I learned EIYPO and I stopped. Whenever she pissed me off, I didn't react the way I usually would, I would leave it alone and maybe affirmed in my favor at times. Then her whole demeanor changed, she more kind, caring, and dependable and we don't fight anymore. She still be getting on my nerves sometimes tho.

My old friend to reach out This one was a doozy. So I was bored at 2am and watched a Youtube video about the 369 method. I decided to try it and chose a friend I haven't spoken to in a year because of a bad falling out. I kinda missed her so I used her for the method and went to bed right after. I get up a few hours later for work and I check my ig and she dm'ed me exactly what I wrote! I thought I was in a twilight zone, I couldn't believe I manifested it so fast!

My “perfect” partner I wrote a long ass list of things I wanted in a partner. But here's the thing, I admired my sister's relationship with her bf because they were so in love. So when I finaly met and started dating my bf, he checked off almost everything on my list AND the qualities of my sister's bf, the good... and the bad, which is why he's my ex now lmfao.

My dream car Way before it was time for me to get a car of my own, I always wanted a Jeep wrangler. Anytime I would see it on the road, I would claim it as my car, I would tell people it's my dream car, and I had it on my vision board. I even went to a dealership to test drive one, it was so fun! I also visualized myself driving it. When it was time to find one, I did get scared I wasn't going to find one I liked at a good price but I persisted and now I have one!

[starkwub]

This Is Love

(Tw. Starkercest, uncle/nephew, non-con/dub-con vibes)

Okay so I wrote this last night and kept it drafted because it turned out a bit darker than I usually go for, but alas I slept on it and am feeling much better about it :). I also couldn't decide between non and dub con, so I tagged both at the top there to play it safe. Probably going to tag it in a similar way on AO3 as well ^^

(Also starkercest anon, if you're seeing this and aren't a fan of the darker stuff I do have other drafts that are a bit more consensual and kinky that I'm working on too XD)

WC: 3,215

-- -- --

The familiar sound of train tracks kept Peter awake that night. He supposed the sound of a gentle oscillating fan as well as the memories of the night prior to his reclusive sleeping arrangements also didn't allow him to fall asleep either.

His mother and her boyfriend were down the hall, as were his aunt and her husband, the grandparents who owned the home, as well as his uncle (although he was currently MIA from the function).

Tony should be here--and yet, nothing. His laughter could not be heard at the dinner table nor around the tree. His stupid expensive car wasn't parked in the driveway alongside everyone else's cheap rides--and his bag wasn't by the couch where he usually took to resting it.

Peter sighed and continued resting on his back with his feet nearly dangling over the edge of the bed, and as his mind wandered to the times when his favorite yet illusive uncle was normally home, he heard the sound of a car door shut and a gentle grunt of frustration through the crack in his window.

"Stupid ice.."

Peter shot up in the bed which warranted his vision going dark and his head pounding for a few staggering moments before he stood and as quickly, and quietly as he could manage--walked out of his room, down the creaking stairs (though he knew stepping on the outer edges made it less noticeable), and through the living room towards the front door.

There was a jingling from a key fob on the other side but Peter was already unlocking it and muttering through the chill that he felt from the cold night air hitting his warm cheeks.

Tony jumped when he noticed, "Peter?? What the hell..what are you doing up?" came an urgent whisper, but his uncle was already walking past Peter before he had the chance to reply.

"Couldn't sleep." He confessed idly and continued on after he heard Tony's car lock from the driveway, "What are you doing here so late?"

"My flight got delayed--didn't your mom mention it?"

She most definitely had not because Peter would remember hearing anything that had to do or was in any way related to Tony.

Why hadn't she mentioned anything?

"No she..it must've slipped her mind. When did you text? She might not have seen it if it was later in the day." He tried, though when he noticed Tony's face scrunch up and contort in a sour sort of way, he knew that hadn't been the case.

"I called her--had a whole five minute conversation about it and everything."

Tony sighed heavily as he untied his shoes and placed them near the rest of the others and shot the front door a hard look.

"You lock it?" and as Peter nodded, eager to please as always, Tony nodded as well.

"Good, good.."

The silence that wore on in-between them was something that he'd experienced before. It was mildly awkward and a tad..tension filled, though he wasn't sure how exactly to describe the latter feeling. It often kept him up at night after getting home from family functions such as this--leading him to feel just a tad bit crazy which thankfully always passed on after a while apart.

Peter often would stare at family photos and the curt short messages the both of them had sent betwixt themselves in the dead of night when he felt particularly strange.

But why.. Peter began to ponder, shivering a bit from the cold air that brushed against his bare hair covered legs.

"Where you sleeping at?" Tony suddenly asked in the same whispered tone as before, making Peter's gaze snap up to see his uncle placing his bag against the usual foot end of the couch.

"Oh um..just upstairs like usual."

Tony nodded again.

He's so quiet tonight..though Peter supposed it made sense considering the time.

He also was, to his knowledge and hopeful guessing, completely sober. normally Tony got more talkative after a couple drinks--especially with him. Perhaps he just had nerves like Peter did, though he didn't think he was all too intimidating.

Peter shuffled into the kitchen and noted the glaringly green time staring back at him from the stove.

11:46

I guess it isn't too late..he wondered as he brought his arms up to cross across his chest, feeling the familiar chill of the house once more. He should've put on a robe (if he had one, that is).

A hand, shocking in its placement as well as its warmth came to rest across his back--it could only have belonged to Tony. Why was Tony putting his hand on him? Peter had grown so intensely accustomed to their 'singular hug at the end of the visit'. This, though, was foreign. It was unexpected and felt in many ways strangely intimate.

Peter knew that probably wasn't the right word to use in relation to his uncle--but how else was he supposed to describe it? It wasn't like he was trying to be weird or anything..

When Tony let his hand fall away he couldn't help but let out the breath he hadn't known he was holding and turned towards his uncle who was staring at the time as well.

"We should probably get to bed, hm?"

We?

"Y-Yeah."

His uncle seemed to sway just a tad too close when he hummed because as suddenly as the familiar strange feeling began to get worse, Peter was turning and watching his uncle's back return to the couch.

It was strange, the way Tony made him feel.

Peter's bare feet padded across the hardwood flooring till he was at the foot of the stairs and staring into the darkness towards where he knew the couch to be. He could see a subtle outline of a person, but nothing more than that. He'd thought to go get his eyes checked out but just hadn't gotten around to it yet.

"Goodnight Peter." He heard from the figure in a whispered huskier tone, and Peter nodded in the dark to comply with the underlying 'you can leave now' message that his uncle was sending his way.

"Goodnight Uncle Tony." and with that, began the hesitant and quiet walk up the stairs. Thankfully nobody had woken up, he thought as he shut his temporary bedroom's door shut with a gentle click.

He was glad to have his uncle in the house. He also wanted to say he felt just a tad bit safer, though he was also the one that slept with the window open, so safety mustn't have been such a huge concern.

He also couldn't..shut the thing either even if he wanted to since something was jammed, but that was neither here nor there.

Peter wished also to ponder on why his mother hadn't elected to mention Tony's flight predicament. Who had she told, if anyone? Had he been the only one on the outskirts of this thing? Why had they all lied?.. Why had his mother lied?

He supposed it wasn't out of the norm for her considering their recent strain but it still seemed strange to not at least mention something as simple as 'Tony's going to be late, he had some flight trouble' during dinner when the man had come up in conversation.

A sneeze suddenly resounded through the house--though it sounded muffled enough for Peter to not think anything of it.

He'd just have to figure it all out tomorrow since he couldn't imagine getting any answers now.

-- --

"Peter." Came a whisper to his left, though he elected in favor of not moving incase it was his dreaded mother trying to awaken him to cut the fruit.

A few moments later, his name came again, only a bit more masculine and a bit more stuffy.

"Pete--" which was soon followed by a muffled sneeze,"--ugh..shit."

He blinked, eyes straining in the dark to try and catch whoever it was that was standing over him, and noticed it was his uncle. What was he doing up here?

"Tony?.." He muttered whilst stretching his legs a bit.

"Yeah it's me kid..listen, I hate to ask this--but can I bunk with you tonight? Maria forgot to remove the stupid feather stuffed pillows and I didn't think to bring any allergy meds with me."

Maria, his mother--the pillows..right. Tony was allergic. That must've been what the sneezing and the stuffy voice was all about.

Mumbling under his breath Peter shuffled and closed his eyes whilst hoping Tony could take the hint and just get in. it of course couldn't have been that easy.

"Why do you have the window open?--"

Ugh..not this..just let me sleep god damnit..

"It's jammed." He stated bluntly, and rubbed his face as a shiver ran throughout his body via the lifting of the semi-warmed bedding.

"Sure is cold in here..not really seeing how you're fine with that." Tony started up again as he shuffled from Peter's left in an attempt to get comfortable. He shrugged sleepily and curled in on himself.

"M'tired Tony..that's how." He grumbled.

There was a bit more shuffling following his exasperated words, but thankfully things seemed to quiet down after a while.

Peter was nearly asleep again--or at least on the verge of it when he heard his uncle speak in a frustrated hush.

"blasted bed.." And Peter felt his back touch something warm--hot even, instead of the familiar cold air he had been forever used to.

"Never enough space on bed's like this.." his uncle muttered again and while Peter figured he could continue to lie as still as possible and attempt to fall back asleep, it became impossible when he noted even more shuffling along with a shoulder jabbing into his spine.

"What in the world are you doing.."

"Peter! Sorry if I woke you.." though he didn't sound entirely too apologetic when his words came out ecstatic, "Do you think you could scoot over just a smidge?"

his uncle turned again and while it was dark and cold and..strangely warm up against his back, Peter could feel something even softer press up against his spine..

"Or..this'll work fine."

How was he sober and doing this? He thought to himself as physical boundaries continued to be crossed.

Peter was aware, and he figured the word intimately was the correct term to use in this instance because his uncle was pressed up against him, chest to stomach to..and Peter felt his cheeks flush with heat.

"Mm.." Tony hummed against his hair as he seemed to take a deep breath in.

"Your shampoo is fantastic Peter.." which was soon followed by a hand wrapping loosely around his much thinner waistline. Tony's fingers brushed his t-shirt down for a moment before letting it lie still yet again.

That strange feeling was back at full force now that they were there--this close..it was..god it was almost too much to bear. A touch of the back to this?? How on earth was he supposed to be mentally prepared for this sort of thing.

Peter attempted to shut his eyes again and get some sleep--knowing that this would all be over in the morning and that he'd get his own bed back after the pillows are removed and the area is disinfected with whatever spray Maria keeps under her kitchen sink cabinet. It would all be fine and dandy..yeah, definitely.

Peter wasn't so lucky though because as he was trying to even out his breathing, that same hand of Tony's began to wander.

It was dark and very much unfamiliar to him--the chill brushing his front had nothing on the heat that was occurring behind him, and while he had never felt something other than a pillow brush against anything lower than his tailbone before, this was definitely not a pillow.

It was stiff and..and warm.

Peter blinked his eyes awake and shuddered in his uncle’s grip. It was loose but something told him he wouldn't be getting let go anytime soon.

I don't.. Peter thought suddenly.

"Tony I--" he swallowed thickly between words, trying to decipher how he was suppose to react in a situation like this. He'd heard about it at school and read about in in articles online..he'd..he'd--

Peter sniffled hard and felt his shoulders begin to shake.

"I don't.."

His words were soon followed by a hand slowing in motion and gripping his t-shirt tightly.

"Oh Peter I--I'm sorry..I didn't mean--" but Peter himself was shaking his head and turning to face his uncle.

The eyes he was met with were moon-lit and haunted, and the skin he watched contorted into something grave, giving his heart a sudden jolt.

"oh no..no Tony don't cry." Peter muttered out while reaching his arm up and around his tubbier uncle's waist in order to reach his back. He caressed the area in a way he hoped could prove to be soothing..and as he felt those large warm hands snake up his back he wondered if he should be trying to sooth his uncle at all.

Had he nearly just been molested?

A shiver ran down the length of Peter's spine that followed the trail in which his uncle's hands had just taken. What was going on?

"Oh god I don't know what's wrong with me.." and as Peter felt the familiar warm length now pressed against his upper thigh, he began to wonder if perhaps he should make a hasty leave for the bathroom.

The hands that continued to hold him close now felt like claws and clamps instead of the regular plush innocence they supplied.

it hadn't been him, Peter realized as something rutted up against him.

All those times he felt weird and..and sexually frustrated, it had been Tony.

Tony, Tony.

his Uncle Tony.

"T-Tony.." He wetly tried but to no avail was quieted by the other man's freshly shaven cheek.

"S-Shh..Peter be quiet..please just.." and it truly did sound like a plea on his uncle's lips, "close your eyes..don't..try not to think too hard, okay?"

Something murky settled in his gut like a stone to a chain as he was pressed up against the warm spot on their full sized bed. A leg rested between his as he felt yet again something hard and hot pressed against his loose pair of boxer shorts.

He felt the strange urge to cry.

Tears did indeed slip down his cheeks as he closed his eyes and tried to do as his uncle told him to. He tried his best not to think too hard but it was difficult when something harder was pressing up against him. Something wet and stiff--something that was too hot to be normal.

It burned and made Peter want to gag as a hand pressed against the top of his back in order to hold him down (as if he were going to go anywhere).

Was this really happening?.. He kept expecting for it to all be a joke--o-or a nightmare as a result of those weird familiar feelings he'd get when his uncle was around after one too many drinks under his belt.

More tears streamed down his cheeks as he heard his uncle grunt from behind and shove in a bit more--no doubt making his insides become coated with something sickly and red.

God he was a virgin!

He hated how much he hated it and he hated even more how much he couldn't stand to stop it.

He hated how much it hurt, and again hated even more how much he lived for the pain.

This corrupt saddled love that was shared between the both of them.

"A-ah.." Peter clenched the bedding tightly and felt the hand on his back disappear for a long moment before it moved to grasp his wrist.

It was wet and so was his hole. Tony had no doubt licked his hand and..and made it easier for his cock to go in, hadn't he?..

Peter shook his head and nearly cried out from the feeling of something being entirely entered into him, but restrained himself to muffled silence once more while his jaw strained against itself.

"Mmph..Pete.." His uncle muttered from above after bringing his now other free hand to his neck. He idly wondered if he would be choked but was shocked to feel the heavy body fall down against him.

"Don't want to move," Tony whimpered, "went in too dry.. don't want you to hurt m-more.."

Peter shook his head and attempted to raise his backside--bucking up into the pain and holding in a cry that would no doubt sound like the loss of his innocence.

When he felt tears hitting his still clothed back he couldn't help but wonder as to who was raping who in this moment. He figured Tony had started it, clearly, and then..well..now they were both crying and Peter was the one bucking into it.

Peter thrusted up as much as he could manage once more in hopes of being able to become the victim of this double edged crime, and grunted past his mute wishful words.

Tony, being as smart as he is, seemingly got the gist.

The pain was nothing short of utter agony scraped from the bottom of hell's dirty pavements, and while tears fell from both of their eyes and the mess that had been produced took a gentle warm rag and many kisses to clean..Peter couldn't help but yawn.

He was tired and never wanted tomorrow's light to shine through the open unchecked window behind him. He didn't want to see his mom or her blasted boyfriend. He didn't want to see the stupid feather stuffed pillows or the way that breakfast would look absolutely breathtaking in the morning.

He didn't want to breathe, but that wasn't really an option.

Instead he turned and wrapped his weak and battered body around the man that had done so much in the short time they'd spent together, and hoped that this love that had been shared between them hadn't been a mistake.

All he ever wanted to do was please his uncle. To be a..to be a good boy.

"I love you Peter..." Tony murmured against his temple, and kissed the area sweetly as if dirty blood had not just been shed as a result of his shame induced love.

"I-I love you too Tony.." he murmured back, and snuggled impossibly closer only wishing now that he could crawl beneath his uncle's skin and die there like a prematurely decaying pet. Wished that then maggots would infest the man in front of him so then he would feel as dirty as Peter did.

If he thought about it though, he presumed they felt much of the same in that moment. Perhaps they were both already infested with something much worse than maggots and creatures that thrive on the carcasses of the dead.

God he hated love..he hated everything that had to do with it because what else was this supposed to be?..Love love love..he repeated, on and on like counting sheep until he fell into a dreamless slumber.

-- -- --

[hollyhomburg]

who’s making a fool of themselves?? spill Pls

OKAY SO- i have this cousin who's basically made her whole personality the fact that she's classy and and has a rich fiancee. i'm trying not to give too much away with this because she is a Z list influencer. i wouldn't give a shit if it wasn't for the fact that she makes her whole brand the fact that she's classy and yet- treats everyone around her like shit. which is just grating to me.

She used to tease me alot when we were younger for my weight- but since i've lost a lot of it she's gone offaly quiet and in the last 6 months, and i swear she acts like i'm her bestie but tbh- a bitch never forgets and i see right through it.

she's getting married. long story short my mom and i are invited to the wedding but we weren't invited to the engagement party. normally i wouldn't have cared but she asked me to do about 1000$ worth of flower arranging for it for free. This almost caused a whole mutiny in my family- like half of them almost didn't go, i had to tell my two elder cousins to go to it and not make a stink.

To be honest, i'm like half in and half out right now like, part of me doesn't even want to go to her wedding but i'll go for my aunt and uncle who i care about alot. For a while i felt like i was being unreasonable for being hurt and i didn't want to stir the pot. it took me a few weeks to realize being bitter wasn't worth my energy.

however i can't help but feel like it's karmatic- she kinda made a big fool of herself this weekend because she's switching her venue to a whole different state after everyone made reservations for very expensive hotels in the area she wanted (beach wedding, the outerbanks, you get the drift) causing a good number of guests to lose a fuck ton of money (luckily we didn't) people have been blowing up my aunts phone, saying 'how could she do this??? to the people she cares about???'

Half of her guests have told her they won't be attending now. And a little while ago i heard my aunt screaming at her over the phone 'You're embarrassing us!' and my aunt never talks like this, let alone does she talk like this to her children.

It's very interesting to me how the people who try the hardest to appear like they have class often nuke themselves like this like- it's just satisfying to see her reputation sort of fall apart after she's taken everything she has for granted, like when i tell you she treats everyone who knows her like shit and everyone who doesn't know her like they're on a pedestal- it's so fucking annoying.

[critter-core]

Quick Chips Lore Infodump

This is thrown together on a google doc and now I'm smacking it onto tumblr so I'm sorry if it seems messy. That's cause it is lol

Not gonna tag anything cause I'm lazy so whatever lol

Eh, actually, I'll at least put the foodie tags ig lol

----------------------------------------

So Chips’ general story has always been that he inherited his ship from his parents in their will when they passed away due to the sea.

To go into more detail, Chips was on the ship with them when they died, so it’s kind of traumatizing to him a bit. They were sailing the seas, delivering an important package to Big Mama.

Let’s go back a bit though. 

Chips’ parents were mutated when the oozesquitos were released, and although they were both rather terrified, especially because they were being illegally sold as exotic pets, they did manage to escape. 

The two parents were a family before, and even had their own kid (who was like 15 when he got mutated, just so that he stays around the mad dogs’ ages), but were being sold to different owners. They were carried on the same ship though, so when the oozesquitos struck, with many different exotic sea creatures fleeing, they ran into each other during the chase, and it was true love at first sight.

For simplicity’s sake, the mom is Sea Salt, and the Dad is Vinegar (I’ll come up with better names later but I like chip jokes so this is the name for now). Sea Salt was a lighter pastel yellow color, and Vinegar was a darker orange color. I’ll make refs later.

So yeah, anyways, they escaped, and when they learned of the Yokai world, they chose to live in the Hidden City instead, since it’d be safer for them and their kid, who they managed to find despite the chaos.

The parents took transport jobs for Big Mama, in hopes that they’d be able to eventually leave her business and sail the seas when they had money they could spend without worry. The parents often delivered packages or people who were to fight in the Battle Nexus…

It hadn’t been much time before Chips’ parents died.

He was still 15. It was a heavy storm, but they had to deliver a very expensive package to Big Mama, as usual. Chips didn’t know what the package was, though, and he had never really wondered until now. He did sneak a look to see it was a cage with a wild animal of some sorts.

The animal scared him, and when his mother caught him, she told him to never go near that cage again, and so he didn’t. But out of nowhere, a big storm brewed up, and the waves were shaking the boat back and forth. Eventually, some large waves crashed into the boat.

One wave too big, and the whole ship was shaken to its side. Chips and his parents all got separated in the waves, and he found himself washed up on the shores of the Hidden City. His parents weren’t there. It was a miracle that he survived, but he was terrified nonetheless.

A tall purple lady walked up, and it was then that he understood what the package was. There stood Big Mama, a very rich lady who was very popular in the Hidden City, both for her gold and her show.

She told him she never got her package from his parents. She did so through strange words he didn’t quite understand, but it began to make sense when he broke it down. She wasn’t happy. 

“You’ll do, turtley-boo,” She said, before ordering her henchmen to grab him. He fought and fought, but before he knew it, he was in their dungeons. He did manage to break out though, when there was sudden chaos. It was something about some mutant turtles breaking into Big Mama’s vault for some stuff she supposedly stole from them.

Chips would have been more curious about it if it weren’t for the fact that he was too preoccupied trying to escape while he could.

When he did, he was at first lost.

He didn’t know what to do. 

But then some strange frantic seagull yokai ran up to him squawking about something. (I headcanon a bullhop esc voice lol)

“You! You there! Oh thank goodness! I’ve been runnin around with my head cut off tryin to find you!” He snapped suddenly, before searching his pouch. “You are the child of Sea Salt and Vinegar, yes?” Chips nodded. “Ah, good. Firstly, I am sorry for your loss. Secondly, in your parents’ last will and testament, it states that they grant you their ship and all of the money they had amassed at the time of death.”

Chips was frankly speechless…

But this seagull wasn’t. He proceeded to drag Chips to a large Hidden City Bank (no, like, that was literally what it was called), and took him to a vault. Chips was greeted to a large pile of gold. Chips hadn’t realized his parents had amassed so much, and he wondered why they were still working for Big Mama when they didn’t need the money…

Nonetheless, Chips knew that even if it was a lot of money, he shouldn’t spend it all immediately. So instead, he leaves it in the vault. He was about to buy a new ship, since he lost the one they rode in the tsunami, but the seagull who had been accompanying him informed him that for his 16th birthday, his parents had a ship ready to give.

The two decide to ‘open’ the 16th birthday present early, and Chips is presented with a new ship. A large ship. A ship just for him. It’s a perfect ship, reflecting the older regal pirate ships that Chips had always dreamed of. It even had a wooden sea serpent figurehead carved to wrap around the front wood panel.

Needless to say, Chips immediately forgot about the whole Big Mama fiasco. He saw this ship and he declared that he would sail the seven seas, just as his parents have once dreamed of. Although the seagull (who’s name was revealed to be Peter) had a job as a messenger, they still continue to be friends and talk occasionally.

From here, Chips began to sail the seas, just as he wished. He even built a crew! Though the only ‘crew’ he’s collected were animals he saved from ships that were bringing over illegal exotic pets like him and his family, along with other stray pets that he just adopted. Any exotic animals in his crew were ones that chose to stay with him rather than return back to their native habitats.

[maeveeislost]

SPEECHLESS

What happens when a mute girl on a trip with her recently married mom and new step-dad goes on a trip to her cousin's birthday in an exquisite hotel and meets a very exquisite man who intrigues her?

My first time writing here! So I'm pretty confused on how to do this whole layout thing but give me some time!

-----------------------------------------------

Walking into the five star place I settled my bag down on the nearby chairs, I looked around trying to find a peculiar pair of brunettes. But they got me before them as I felt a tap on my shoulder, turning back I looked at my mom and step father smiling and waving at me, I waved back too.

My mom had been single until very recently, but then she found my dad, he was an instructor at my sign language facility, he taught people and people like me, mutes, sign language. They had really nice chemistry and started going out and I was really happy for her, I loved my instructor, he was sweet and patient with us. And with that, it was my aunt's and her daughter's, my cousin's birthday tomorrow, we all had gathered at the five star hotel to celebrate it for an entire week. They wanted the family to gather and enjoy for a good whole week.

I head to my room and settled down my things, today was just a day where we all chilled and tomorrow the line of events would start.

I head out wanting to explore the hotel, filled with gold and silver, smooth marble, delicate carvings on the walls, expensive paintings, shiny ceiling, a spiral staircase, a grand diamond chandler, I walked into a huge room, it looked like a ballroom or a big party to for plenty of people to gather. There was music playing in the background, the exquisite hotel and music made me feel like a princess, the floor was smooth as I glided across, slowly dancing twisting my self with turns and grace. I had always enjoyed music, the beats, the melody's , the way the words glided off the singers tounge. I loved everything about it.

Another twist and, ow

I looked up to see a young man looking down at me as I rubbed my head. That's a hard chest I thought.

"Sorry there" he said, his voice was husky, deep, a bit rough; just as if he had woken up. Now that I took a good look at him I figured he had actually woken up.

Hair messy, face a bit slugged down, while his clothes in were wrinkled, and his eyes were a bit droopy and the rough voice evidence belonged here too.

I waved my hands in front of him, signing to him that it's okay in simple words, or should I say signs.

He wore clothes of a waiter, or server, I was not really sure but I could tell he worked here, I guessed that he had sneaked here to take a short doze.

The song was still playing in the background while I scanned his face, his face was smooth, a bit sun kissed, it glowed under the little light that came from the far away windows in the dark curtain filled room. He was handsome, and looked smart even though he was quite a mess right now. I didn't realize how long I had been staring untill he cut it for me.

"Are you done staring?" He questioned rising an eyebrow with his hand crossed, his muscles flexed under the material of his uniform, his delicate but surely huge veins coming to view.

I gulped a tiny bit, he sure was intimidating, I felt awkward and embarrassed as I felt hotness rising up my cheek.

I bowed down to him in a way of saying sorry, though I was pretty sure it was to hide the blush that hovered the skin on my cheeks.

When I slightly looked up he seemed baffled as he grabbed my shoulders and pulled me up, he did not expect me to bow, clearly.

"What are you doing here ma'am, are you lost?" He returned back to sounding professional before a stern cough.

Well now since I couldn't reply and this guy mostly had a chance of not understanding sign language, I tried to make it as simple as possible.

First I nodded my head in a way that explained, no. He raised his eyebrow again. Wondering why I would have come here then.

I pointed towards the speakers on the stage, he looked towards them and back at me. "The music?" He asked a bit amused. I nodded in a way that explained, yes.

He looked confused, I hadn't spoken a word till now.

"Could you tell me your room number so I can take you back ma'am, if you have somewhere else to go or don't require assistance you can just tell me." He said standing up straight again.

Well now answering this would be complicated. I gestured, writing. As in I wanted a pen, I spelled it out with my lips as well.

He gave me a look but nonetheless gave me want I wanted. I wrote on my hand.

I can't speak, I'm a mute.

And I waited for him to give me that look of pity, and be all like sorry and all that, but it never came he just looked at me and gently told me, "No problem ma'am, please use sign language, I will understand."

I signed to him, 'Thankyou for your understanding, I'm not lost, I was just looking around, Im sorry if I disturbed anything important' he smiled instantly after.

"Your welcome, and please don't say sorry, you have disturbed nothing, if your tired I still would insist I take you to your room."'

I nodded smiling. We walked together in the long and huge exquisite hallways of the hotel, rattling of utensils and plates could be heard in the distance, we walked in quite peaceful silence, no awkwardness present with the noise of our footsteps prominent.

As he dropped me by my door he gave me a smile as I asked him one last thing before I closed the door.

'What's your name?' I signed to him curious.

He smiled once again with his hands behind his back, "Taehyung" he replied.

------------------------------------------------------------------

I hope you guys enjoyed<3!

[bowiebond]

At Your Service

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41488101

Relationship: Stonathan aka Steve Harrington/Jonathan Byers

Summary: After the vandalism at the cinema, Jonathan lost his job and had to pick up another, at a cafe. His uniform is quite fitting, and Steve prods at him for being on the thin side, worried. All Jonathan can really worry about is how Steve’s hands fit entirely around his waist and how crazy it makes him.

CW: Dom!Steve, Sub!Jonathan, Dubious Consent, Steve worries about Jonathan’s eating habits but he’s healthly, trans!Jonathan (Steve knows so it’s not a reveal fic), rough sex, past Nancy/Steve, implied possible infidelity (Jonathan/Nancy), almost caught in the act trope, almost hatefucking, choking/breathplay, orgasm denial, fem language, blow job, subspace, coming inside because Steve will always have a breeding kink in my fics.

Words: 4.7k

Jonathan decided to work at a cafe as a waiter to help pay the bills after the whole fiasco with Steve and his lackeys, the fist fight that got him taken down town. Plus the vandalism from his ‘peers’ cost him his job at the movie theater.

So now he worked shifts at a cafe after school, and it wasn’t bad. He liked it well enough. The outfit was a little much, but it was provided so he didn’t have to pay any out of pocket expenses thankfully.

He felt kind of nice in it honestly; black pants, white collared shirt, black vest (they all fit unlike his goodwill collection) and a tie. Plus an apron tied around the small of his waist. It was expensive looking even if it wasn’t actually expensive, and his mom thought he looked handsome in it. Like a gentleman, even though Jonathan was pretty sure he looked more like a butler.

The cafe was small, quaint, and was frequented by parents and elderly more so than his school peers. Which made his life a lot easier. He didn’t need further teasing at school for having a job - which was ridiculous in itself, but some kids could be right assholes.

“Look, we can sit in here, I’ll get you something to eat, and you’ll let me finish my homework before we head to Mike’s, okay?” Oh god.

“But Steve,” Fuck his life.

“No buts! I drive you around, you deal with the inconveniences of it.”

“I should have just biked.” Dustin grumbled and Jonathan could hear their chairs scraping and squeaking as they took a seat at the booth. If anyone else had been on, Jonathan would have just gotten them to serve, but of course it was a slow afternoon and Jonathan insisted Bethany go home if she was unwell.

Jonathan groaned and sucked it up, pulling out his pen and pad. He peaked his head out and saw them chatting, going over the menu.

“Jonathan, dear, there you are.” Jonathan perked up at the older woman’s voice.

“Dot! The regular?” He liked her, she was sweet and always left a nice tip, plus her order was easy. One half-strength latte and a warm danish with a side of cream.

“Oh, you know me so well.” She reached up to pinch his cheek and he allowed it, chuckling.

“You’re here almost every day, how could I not?” He got behind the coffee machine to start her coffee and she tittered.

“I’ll just be at my usual table.” Fifteen. Her lucky number apparently. And right in sight of Steve and Dustin.

“Sure thing.” He held back the urge to sigh as he prepared her coffee and treat. He placed them on his tray and walked it over, giving her a small smile. “Have a good afternoon, Dotty.”

“It’s always ten times better after seeing you, Jonathan.” He’d admit, it was a bit flattering. Older ladies seemed to love him, even if they sometimes gossiped about the Byers family. Usually out of pity instead of scorn, but they rarely seemed to realize it was him too they were speaking of, not just his mother and brother who were well known by face nowadays.

“Jonathan?” He took a deep breath and turned around to the voice of surprise. Steve was hunched over his homework, hair falling into his face, with Dustin swinging his legs like he was trying to kick him, but the older boy had put his lower half just out of reach by pushing his chair back.

He tucked the tray under his arm and pulled out his notepad and pen.

“What can I get you today?” Jonathan drawled and Dustin jumped at the chance to answer but Steve shushed him with a hand.

“I thought you worked at the Hawk? The cinema?”

“Well, after a few ‘peers’ went and vandalized it, they thought it less trouble to just let me go.” Jonathan narrowed his eyes at Steve who sunk into himself with a guilty look on his face. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, smudging a bit of ink onto his skin.

“Yeah…I’m really sorry about that. I can’t believe Nancy didn’t tell me.” Steve pouted, dejected, and Jonathan rolled his eyes.

“She didn’t tell you because I didn’t tell her. It was easier to just get another job than whine about it to everyone that you lost me mine.” Steve winced.

“I’m sorry.”

“I appreciate the apology. Mostly because it looks like you’re trying to pull your own teeth out every time you say it.” He smirked and Dustin snickered.

“He sounds like a toddler being told to apologize, right?” Jonathan snorted at Dustin’s analogy and Steve made a pitched noise of offense in the back of his throat.

“I do not! And I really am sorry! I never would have done it if I thought it would cost him his job. Work is important! My parents would go nuts with boredom without their jobs.” Steve grumbled. “They’d be forced to hang around this tiny town more than once every three months.”

“Your parents suck, Steve.” Dustin said, point blank, and Steve colored with embarrassment.

“Shut up.” He mumbled, looking down at his homework. “Order your food.”

“I’ll have one Dutch apple, warm, an apple turnover, and an apple custard with an apple juice.” Steve looked up at Dustin with a bewildered expression.

“What’s with the apples, little dude? And why so many?”

“One, I feel like apples, and two, the apple custard is for Will because he likes them.”

“He does.” Jonathan chuckled. “Game night at Mike’s?”

“Yeah, and I’m gonna kick monster ass just like I do in real life.” Steve rolled his eyes at that.

“If you heading over, I can pack you guys some pastries? I get a discount.” Jonathan winked and Dustin beamed.

“Really?!”

“Totally.”

“You’re the best!”

“Hey! I’m paying for you, numbskull.” Steve gaped.

“Yeah but, like…Jonathan made the pot sweeter with the discount stuff.”

“That’s still a lot for four kids.” Steve huffed softly, turning to Jonathan. “Hey, pack some stuff you think the kids with like and just put it on my bill, yeah? You don’t gotta go out of your way to pay for them.”

“I’m related to one of them.” Jonathan quirked a brow, reminding Steve, who’s previously clearing cheeks grew pink again.

“Still.” Steve mumbled and looked back down at his homework, obviously not having a proper excuse. Jonathan watched him stare at his paper in confusion before sighing and moving his hand aside, leaning down to place his own pen on the paper.

“Carry the four, not the two. And what do you want?” He turned his head just as Steve did and the pair flinched at how close they were. Jonathan stood up straight and smoothed over his apron, clearing his throat. “Well?”

“Just uh…” Steve’s voice came out hoarse before he coughed, fixing it. “Just a hot chocolate.”

“Can do.” Jonathan wrote down the order and walked away.

Hopefully today would be the only day he had to deal with peers at his workplace again.

——————

It was not. Steve came back the next week for more snacks for the kids. Then the week after. And the week after that.

Steve was becoming a regular. Dear god.

Jonathan didn’t hate Steve, don’t get him wrong, but…Steve was Steve. Preppy, assholey, rich boy Steve, who taunted him more than once over the years. But he had put himself in the way of danger more than once for his family and Nancy.

He knew Steve was getting better, and he was glad, because Will seemed to like Steve, Nancy liked Steve even if it was kind of awkward after their break up, but - over all, everyone liked Steve.

Except him. Because he didn’t hate Steve, but he couldn’t say he liked him.

“Have you always been that skinny?” Jonathan frowned at the words as he taped up the takeaway box. He picked it up and made his way around the counter.

“Uh, I guess?” Jonathan furrowed his brows and Steve looked him over with pursed lips.

“You’re too skinny, man. Are you eating?”

“I’m eating just fine.” He rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to worry. I’m not one your gaggle of kids.”

“That’s not- I can care about peoples well-being’s even if they aren’t close to me.” Steve floundered with his hands and Jonathan stared, deadpanned. “I can!”

“Yeah.” Jonathan offered the box to him but Steve didn’t take it, still staring at his middle.

“Can I just-? One second.” Steve disappeared from his sight as he slipped behind him and Jonathan opened his mouth to ask what the hell he was doing before two hands wrapped around the small of his waist and squeezed.

He almost dropped the box, standing straighter with a sound of startled distress.

“How the hell- you’re way too skinny! My fingers touch, man!” Jonathan inhaled sharply at the words, now very much aware of the fingertips brushing together over his navel and the thumbs pressed against his slightly crooked spine.

“Quit it!” He hissed. “I almost dropped your stuff, I can’t afford to pay for the damages.”

“Be honest, you are eating, right?” Steve prodded, squeezing his waist once more. A reflex to flexing his hands when upset, but it drew out another half-stifled sound from the shorter.

“I am. I just have a high metabolism!” He couldn’t believe he was justifying himself to this guy. Steve huffed and Jonathan felt it tickle the back of his neck before he drew his hands back. Jonathan shivered.

“If you say so.” Steve grumbled softly. “I always thought you just tied your apron too tight.” He hooked his finger into the back of it and tugged.

“Well, I don’t.” Jonathan blushed, slapping his hand away and turning to shove the box into his hands. “Just go already.”

He walked out back before Steve could even say a proper goodbye and sat down on an empty crate. He buried his hot face in his hands, groaning. The touch was still searing into his waist. He huffed and reached down to place his own hands over the space Steve’s had occupied.

He couldn’t touch them together. Not like Steve had. Something hot pooled low in his stomach the longer he sat there, hands caressing his waist absentmindedly. He cursed softly and snuck away to the staff bathroom.

He untied his apron and stared down at his black trousers. He unbuttoned them after a moment of hesitation and slipped his hand inside with a soft moan, trying to ignore the bubbling of shame in his stomach. His spare hand smoothed up his thigh, over his hip and into the gentle dip of his waist. With a squeeze, his cunt throbbed, and his knees grew weak.

Shit. He could not let Steve that close ever again. He was making him weirder than he already was.

——————

A few weeks later, arriving home after a shift, he was surprised to find Steve in his room. He had seen the group of kids, hadn’t been too surprised by that, but he didn’t expect Steve to still be there, or in his room.

“Uh, hey. Hi.” Steve offered a wave and Jonathan pursed his lips.

“Yeah. Hi.” He dropped his bag onto the floor. “So…why are you here?”

“Your mom wants me to stay for dinner, but won’t let me help cook. And the kids don’t want me to bug them during their art session. So now I’m here.” He gestured to the room.

“Brats.” Jonathan smirked. “Kicking their chaperone out of playtime. Exclusionary behavior.”

“That’s what I said!” Steve laughed. “Nice, uh, nice place, by the way. Nice room. Homely.”

“That feels insulting from a guy that lives in a mansion.”

“It’s not a mansion.” Steve flushed at Jonathan’s teasing. “It is kinda big though. Too big for one person.” Steve chuckled lamely.

“I can imagine.” Jonathan untied his apron and tossed it over his desk chair. He unbuttoned his vest, loosening his tie and flipping his collar up, and Steve made a pitched noise of confusion at Jonathan’s blatant stripping. “What? You shower with guys after basketball, I’m just getting changed.”

“Yeah but - that’s different!” Steve looked away, cheeks red.

“You came into my room.” Jonathan shrugged, turning away as he unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it free from where he tucked it. His clothes were damp from wash up, so he flicked his tie over his shoulder to hang up properly in a minute. He didn’t want to mix it with his wet clothes that needed to be washed. He slipped the shirt down his arms and threw it over his chair, walking to his dresser to rummage for a shirt.

He flinched when warm hands touched his chilled skin. Wrapping around his waist. Arousal stirred deep in his gut as he left out a shaky sigh.

“Seriously, Jonathan. You gotta be smaller than your mom. That can’t be healthy.” He squeezed and an intense throb rippled through his pussy, clenching as he felt himself begin to leak.

“Quit that.” He breathed, unable to get it out any louder, and Steve’s hands froze. Slowly, they went lax and his fingers trailed up his ribs. Jonathan grabbed them before they touched his chest, nape burning as Steve’s breath caressed his bare shoulder, goosebumps scattering along his skin.

“Hey, are you…” Jonathan squeezed his eyes shut in mortification as Steve’s chest pressed against his back. “…turned on, right now? From that?”

“Shut up.” He winced out, in more mental pain than physical.

“Let go.” Steve said, voice softer now as he eased his hands out of Jonathan’s grasp. Jonathan bit his lip hard as Steve’s hands roamed down his sides, pressing his fingertips into the muscle beneath skin, into bone. Jonathan shivered noticeably and Steve smoothed his hot hands down his hips, teasing the waistband of his pants.

He unbuttoned them without a word and Jonathan held his breath, leaning back into Steve’s chest as the boys tugged his zipper down and hooked his chin over his shoulder.

He gripped his hips, hard. Jonathan grimaced.

“Those fucking Nancy’s?” He said it tightly, and Jonathan couldn’t tell if it was anger or restraint.

“No, fuckin’ hell, Steve.” Jonathan knew they weren’t because he and Nancy never did anything in his house. It was weird, they were a thing but not and Jonathan hadn’t asked yet if they were boyfriend and girlfriend or just friends who fucked. He liked her, she was pretty and had soft skin, made sweet sounds when he went down on her. She was kind of a princess though, wasn’t too interested in returning the favor. Not that Jonathan had many issues with that but a guy had needs, okay? Just a hand would be nice.

Them having similar underwear was a coincidence. Small town, same places to shop. Jonathan had had this pair for years, they were getting tight honestly.

“Sure.” Steve didn’t seem to believe that though. Jonathan gasped in surprise as his hand stuffed itself into the space between the seam of his pants and his pale blue underwear. His fingers rubbed against the wet patch growing between his legs and Jonathan moaned, wanting to curl into himself as pleasure spiked up his spine, only making his arousal burn hotter in his belly.

“Stay still.” Steve slipped his arm around his middle and kept him in place as he rubbed circles into his clothed clit, Jonathan’s knee jumping up in an attempt at stopping the intense sensation. It was different from touching himself. He didn’t know what Steve would do next, couldn’t be prepared for it, and it was making his body tremble all over as he squeezed Steve’s forearm.

“F-fu…”

“Thin walls. Don’t forget.” As if to remind him, he heard the kids laughter travel through from the living room and he bit his lip harder to suppress a groan.

“Q-quit it then.”

“You like it.” He said it with a certainty, like he knew better than Jonathan, his fingers leaving his pulsing clit to slip into the side of his drenched panties. He moaned, Steve’s thick fingers smoothing up and down his slick pussy lips. “See? It isn’t hard to just admit it, Jonathan.”

“Shut up, shut up.” Jonathan’s lips parted in a silent ‘o’ as Steve slipped a finger inside, soft and warm as he worked it in and out, shallow with the awkward angle. He raised his arm to wrap around his chest; tiny, perky things with hard dark pink nipples. He held firmly, forcing the lanky boy to stand straighter against him, giving him a more comfortable angle to work with as he pressed his own hot cock against the small of his back.

Jonathan groaned, cheeks ruddy and eyes shut as he twitched into his hand, accepting the second finger with barely a whimper.

“God, you’re totally hot for it.” Steve laughed breathlessly, pulling his fingers out to shuck his pants down around his thighs, underwear stained with his slick that smeared along his inner thighs as he fucked the first two knuckles into his cunt, not stopping or giving more as Jonathan squirmed and whined.

“C’mon.” Steve rutted his cock against the dimples of his back, only pausing in his ministrations to hook his thighs over his arm, driving his fingers in to the last knuckle. Jonathan bit back a whine, head falling back on his shoulder with a low moan instead.

“Tell me you like it. Tell me how good it feels.” Jonathan didn’t think he had enough brain functions to do either, tongue heavy in his mouth as he tried to focus on keeping his voice quiet. A dangerously pitched whine left his lips when Steve caught his nipple between two fingers, twisting it.

“Tell me.” He hissed into his ear and Jonathan swore.

“It’s good- shit, it’s good, okay?” He panted, griping Steve’s bicep to keep his balance as the brunet teased his clit with little circles before dipping back into his cunt, the obscene squelch making Jonathan’s face burn, flushed down to his chest.

“Better than Nancy, right?” Jonathan groaned at the mention of her. He didn’t want to talk about Steve’s ex and his current unlabelled something when he had Steve’s fingers steadily bringing him to a climax that already had his legs shaking.

“She doesn’t even- touch me, okay?” Jonathan’s head fell forward, a few strands of hair sticking to his temple. “Shit, I’m gonna cum.” He squeezed Steve’s arm, begging for him to keep doing exactly what he was doing. He was so fucking close.

He near sobbed when Steve pulled out entirely, the hand covered in his juices gripping his thigh. His pussy convulsed around nothing, so close to an orgasm yet too weak to be called one and it made Jonathan want to cry.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck you, Steve, please.” If he still had an inch of dignity, he was sure he’d feel mortified by his own begging, but he was desperate now. His rational mind felt miles away.

“Fuck.” Steve dropped his leg and pressed his face into the top of the dresser, undoing his belt one-handed with practiced ease. Jonathan groaned, aching to cum by any means necessary, even though he was pretty sure he should be denying all of this. The hands on his waist, the hot press of a cock against his right ass cheek, the fact that it was Steve’s cock. Steve who he didn’t even really like outside of how big his hands were, how nice they felt on him, inside him. How good his cock felt sliding along his throbbing pussy, wound up so tight from the denial of his last orgasm he thought he might die if he didn’t get some kind of stimuli to his painfully sensitive clit.

He’s pretty sure he should point out that he didn’t even have any condoms because he didn’t expect to be fucked like, ever. That he should ask Steve if he has any, or offer to jack him off if he lets him fucking cum, but not much rational thinking can come to the forefront of his mind when Steve was pushing the fat head of his cock into his hole, sliding in slowly as Jonathan gasped and exhaled and whimpered until he was pressed into the hilt.

Jonathan moaned against the wood, clenching around his cock. It sat hot and heavy, buried so deep he was sure Steve was kissing the deepest part of him. He was embarrassingly wet, hot flashes plaguing his body as his slick dripped down Steve’s balls. He prayed he wouldn’t comment.

He didn’t, but his hands squeezed the smallest part of his waist, his grip firm as he rocked in and out of the silky heat.

“If Nancy hasn’t touched you,” Steve chuckled, airy and low. “That means I’m the first, right?” There was a smug satisfaction in his tone and Jonathan would have punched him again if he had half a mind to. Unfortunately, his irritation was quickly doused by a steady stream of pleasure as Steve started to thrust, shallow and quick; maddeningly shallow. Steve wasn’t even getting half his cock inside him and it was driving Jonathan insane.

He rocked back into him, knowing his words would be slurred and unintelligible, and Steve grinned. He snapped his hips, shoving the brunet further into his dresser, and Jonathan moaned louder, gripping the edge of it. The pace was near punishing, fast and brutal, and Jonathan wouldn’t be able to keep himself upright if not for Steve’s hands on his waist, securing him in place.

Steve was the first to hear it, Jonathan too far gone as his voice got louder without his knowledge. Jonathan gasped and choked as Steve stilled completely, his tie wrapped around his fist as a knock sounded. Jonathan reached up to the loop of the tie pressed tightly against his throat. Steve tugged harder and Jonathan felt tears well in the corners of his eyes. Steve was still buried inside him, so deep he could almost feel the tip of his cock against his cervix, and it was dizzying, struggling on the tips of his toes. He hadn’t really noticed the height difference before now, but it felt vast when he was struggling not to completely impale himself in Steve’s cock. The mere idea made him throb and Steve groaned softly.

“Jonathan, is Steve with you?” Fuck, his mom. He prayed she wouldn’t open the door, for the love of everything holy, she did not need to see her eldest son getting railed by his brothers babysitter.

“We’re in here, yeah.” Steve answered for him, able to play unaffected and Jonathan bit his lip to stifle of whimper. He didn’t know how long he could keep himself like this, trembling all over.

“Oh, good, good, well, dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes. Make sure you boys wash your hands, okay?”

“Will do, Mrs Byers. We aren’t five.” He joked and Jonathan begged for him to just shut up. He felt light headed and grabbed at the tie to gain a gasp of air before Steve tugged it back into place. He squeezed his eyes shut.

“Oh, I know, but you know...hard to grow out of those habits even as your kids grow up!” She laughed. “I’ve always been like that, even Jonathan could tell you that.”

“No, really?” This fucker was playing him, he knew it. Torturing him. He had to be. He eased the restriction just a tad, allowing him to swallow in air, to possibly get a word in. To save himself.

“Mom!” He said it too quickly, too suddenly, and Joyce made a sound of surprise.

“What? Are you alright?”

“I-” He tried to conjure up an excuse, mind hazy, and Steve pulled him like a dog on a leash, lips against his ear.

“Quickly...finish your excuse.” He ordered and Jonathan swore quietly as he eased the loop around his neck. He shuddered out a breath, taking in a deep one.

“I just, um, don’t let dinner burn!” He fumbled, but he knew his mother well enough. She cursed and he could hear her footsteps disappearing down the hall. She always got distracted, it’s why he cooked more often than not.

“Nice save.” Steve grinned against his ear and wrapped his arm around his hips, bringing him down harshly on that last inch. Jonathan gave a soft cry, fisting his jacket sleeves as the older rutted into his tight pussy.

It was like he had found a new toy, the way he pulled the tie taunt around his neck as he pushed him forward, holding him down with one hand between his shoulder blades. Jonathan slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle his moans, the relief of breathing again after being deprived of it beginning to feel like it’s own little climax.

Steve’s hand eased off the tie to reach down between his legs, playing with his swollen clit as Jonathan gasped and panted, tears streaking down his cheeks. He doesn’t remember when the first tear fell, but it was a steady stream now, body so ready to cum it hurt to even think about.

“Steve, Steve, please,” He begged, dragging out his name, and the brunet listened, swirling his clit even he cried and tried to shy away from it.

“Gonna cum,” Steve groaned, hips smacking against his ass, his dick so wet it threatened to slip out with every thrust, and Jonathan groaned.

“’ot inside.” He slurred, eyes threatening to roll into the back of his head as Steve pinched his clit, rolling it.

“Inside?” Steve chuckled, panting hotly against his shoulder and Jonathan would have corrected him if not for his orgasm ripping through him. His cry of pleasure was choked, sputtered out weakly in time with Steve’s harsh thrusts as he shuddered, pleasure flooding through his body and out of his cunt. Steve fucked him through each wave, the floor and Jonathan’s pants beneath them soaked in his release as he sobbed in relief. He was twitching and sensitive as Steve sought out his own finish, hands back on his waist, digging his fingers into the soft skin hard enough to leave bruises.

Jonathan moaned when he felt it, Steve’s hips stuttering and cock sinking in deep to fill him with hot spunk. He thought it ended after the first few spurts, but then Steve started to move again, fucking his cum deeper if possible as he continued to stuff him full. When he pulled out, he could feel it dripping out of his cunt, a thick drop of it sliding down his clit and hitting the floor as he caught his breath against the dresser, afraid to move in case he collapsed. His knees were locked, but the slightest breeze might cut his strings like a puppet.

He was proven right when Steve reached around to his face, cupping under his chin, and Jonathan crumpled to his feet. Slick and cum smeared along his thighs, onto the carpet, and Jonathan found it hard to process any of it. Steve’s hand came back to his face, tilting it up to look at him and Jonathan’s head fell upon his thigh. Steve stared down with an unreadable expression.

He swiped a thumb along his lips, applying the softest pressure. Jonathan accepted, parting his lips to take the digit into his mouth. Steve’s eyes softened into something near fond.

“You know, Jonathan,” He guided his jaw down, opening his mouth wider. Jonathan didn’t resist. “I think the service industry is your calling.”

Jonathan blinked up at him, looking half-asleep even as he was offered the tip of his cock, covered in the both of them. He suckled the tip, lazily dragging his tongue over the length, cleaning it with soft sucks and wet licks.

They had a few minutes to spare. He’d just say Jonathan wasn’t feel well and wanted to take a shower to cool off. It sounded like the perfect excuse as he petted soft brown strands back from the younger boys face, feeding his cock past his lips, nice and slow.

Steve was willing to test his limits while he had him pliant and so, so willing to service him.

[freakbabyy]

see you in hell

chapter one

eddie munson x reader, steve harrington x reader, billy hargrove x reader

cross posted on AO3

i’m posting a new chapter every thursday, so by the time we hit 100 chapters, it’ll be 4 July 2024, and the new season will most likely be out :)

Alright, that’s the last of it. I put down the last box, and looked around.

“Sorry that the room’s not exactly ready, yet. It took a while to move stuff, and paint. Especially with it being summer. I couldn’t get Dusty to stay inside for an hour, and when he was inside, I had to go to work.”

I smiled at the gesture, and dragged the last of my boxes through the carpeted hall and to the door at the end of the hall, across from a few similar-looking doors.

“Don’t worry about it, mom. My room at dads was about half the size of this room. It means a lot for you to do all of this for me, though. I hope it wasn’t too expensive…?”

Mom waved her hand around, making a gesture saying it was no big deal. I put the heavy boxes down before wrapping my arms around the stout woman, sighing at the smell which reminded me of baked goods.

“I’ll leave you be, for now, honey. School starts next week, don’t forget! I have a couple of bucks your father slipped me before we left for you to buy some supplies, too. I’ll be in the other room if you need anything.”

The door shut with a small click before I finally took a glance around the room. The carpet was freshly vacuumed, and the walls smelled freshly painted. When it was about to rain, the blue walls reminded me of the sky. A few bedroom furnishings were already in the room, stacked in the corner for me to figure out how to arrange them later. The door on the wall led to a small closet, which had a few shelves built into it.

I guess I should start by rearranging the furniture. I pushed the bed against the wall in the corner, with a small table beside it. The dresser was pushed to the opposite wall, with a desk and chair in the corner still. The furniture all had a few bumps and scrapes on it, but I didn’t mind. It gave the room character.

I opened one of my heavy boxes and began the dreading journey which would include putting everything away while also trying not to cry thinking about my dad. He was a good guy, eccentric, but a good guy. He home-schooled me my whole life, while also picking up odd jobs when he could to provide for us.

My mom and dad were together for a few years, but when I was about three and Dustin was almost one they split up. Mom got Dustin when he was still a baby, and I got dad. Of course, they tried to make things work with co-parenting, but it just didn’t work out. I didn’t mind, though. We always had holidays together as families, and in the summer we would always go back and forth.

“Agents of Fortune, or Holy Diver?” I asked myself while pulling out the two worn cassettes,

I ultimately decided on Agents of Fortune just to listen to Don’t Fear The Reaper, my dad, and I’s favorite song. The familiar tune played as I popped it into the boombox before going back to unpacking.

Considering I only had about five boxes, I finished unpacking in record time. The closet held a few pairs of shirts and jacket and the dresser held a few bras, panties, and a couple of pairs of jeans. I didn’t mind not having a lot of things; I knew I found all of them at thrift stores with my dad throughout the years.

Dad always supported every fresh interest I had, and I was always grateful for that knowing not all parents were like that. He put together a net after buying a soccer ball for me. When I wanted to try playing the piano, he paid for piano lessons for me, even if it had costed more than we could afford. He shaved his own when I wanted to shave my head. When I wanted a tattoo, he went, and we got tattoos together.

He was the best dad I could have ever asked for. Even if it meant having to send me to live with my mom, I knew he was doing it so he could save money and buy a house, and get a steady job, too.

“Y/N? Honey, do you mind if I come in?”

“Sure, I’m done unpacking already.”

The door cracked open as she peeked through, before stepping through fully and looking around. She smiled a bit before pointing at the boombox,

“You know, Dusty has the same cassette. He loves it, never stops playing it.”

“Speaking of the devil, where is he?”

“Oh, he’s over at his friends’ house. I was coming to ask you to get him, dinner’s almost ready. You still like lasagna, right?”

“I love it, mom. But, yeah, I can go get him. Whose house is he at?”

“Oh, I think it’s Mike’s? If you go down the road, take a left, then when you see Piney Wood Lane, you’ll follow that road until you get to house number 2530. Do you drive yet, sweetie?”

I briefly thought back to dad trying to teach me to drive. With backing up, parking, or anything else, it was a disaster. I had recently taken out our mailbox trying to park, and ever since I hadn’t attempted.

“No, the last time I tried, I murdered our mailbox. I wouldn’t recommend it. But I have these,”

I went to my closet before pulling out the old torn-up box which held my babies. They were a pair of roller skates, but not just any roller skates. They were velveted black booted roller skates. The wheels were a deep red, which resembled blood.

“Those are nice, honey.” Mom said, watching as I pulled them onto my feet before lacing them back up, grabbing my helmet from beside the box, as well as a small backpack, which held my Walkman.

I turned the boombox off, before popping in the cassette to my Walkman. I put my headphones on before slipping my helmet on, as mom gave a kiss to my cheek as I made my way out the door,

“Be careful! Love you!”

I shouted back Love you, before starting my way down the road, glad about it being downhill. Hawkins, Indiana wasn’t that different from where dad lived, it looked the same, anyway. Lots of trees, scarcely populated, and quiet.

“Piney Wood Lane!” I turned my feet so I’d make my way down the street, which turned into a suburb. A suburb in the middle of the forest? Odd.

A few kids played outside, but few considering it was nearly dinnertime. A few were on their bikes making their way home, most likely.

The Wheeler's house had a mailbox with their name engraved in it. The house itself had a fairly big yard, where four bikes were in a pile. It was two stories and looked like it also had an attic. I couldn’t imagine what the mortgage must be.

I knocked on the front door, taking my helmet and Walkman off before I heard someone yell that they were coming. The door swung open and a middle-aged woman was standing before me; she had brunette hair which was permed, with matching brown eyes. She was actually really pretty, especially with the kind smile she offered.

“Hi, how can I help you dear?”

“Oh, I’m here to pick up my brother, Dustin. My mom said he would be here.”

Her face lit up, before she opened the door wider, welcoming me inside. The inside of the house was just as extravagant as the outside. Pairs of shoes were on the side of the door, and I noticed the floors were all carpeted, so I had taken off my roller skates, not wanting to ruin the carpet.

“You must be Y/N, Dustin’s been talking about you all summer. He’s very excited. I think they’re almost done with their session of Dungeons and Dragons if you want to wait up here.”

“That would be great, thank yo,u Mrs. Wheeler.”

“Oh please, call me Karen. Make yourself at home, My husband Ted is in the family room with Holly, and my oldest is upstairs. Nancy! Could you come here for a moment?”

Ted seemed to be older than Karen and had glasses similar to my dad's. A small toddler was on the floor playing with some toys, and she looked up curiously hearing her mom speak. I waved a bit at her, to which she shy’d away. I stuck my hand out for Ted, introducing myself, as he shook my hand, mentioning something about ‘finally someone with manners’ before I heard footsteps coming downstairs,

“Nancy, this is Dustin’s older sister, Y/N. The boys are finishing up downstairs and then dinner will be ready.”

Nancy had big brown doe eyes, which reminded me of her mother and matching brown curly hair. Her clothes were pastel-colored and were a big difference from my ripped jeans and The Cramps t-shirt. She stuck her hand out and offered a smile,

“I’m Nancy, Dustin’s talked about you all summer. Honestly, I’m glad you’re here finally so he’ll shut up about it.”

I shook her hand, not quite knowing how to respond. I can thank dad for homeschooling me my whole life for my terrible social skills.

“Hi. Uh, yeah. I’m glad to be here, too.”

“So are you a sophomore, too? You’ll be going to Hawkins High with me.”

“Yeah, but I’m a Junior,” I nodded, “I’m really nervous, actually.”

“Don’t be, everyone’s nice, mainly. You can hang out with me and my friend Barb. Jonathan, Will’s older brother goes there, too. It’s really just like any other high school.”

“Oh, they homeschooled me my whole life.”

“That’s alright, I can show you around. Plus, I can help you with studying, too.”

The conversation ended abruptly when thundering footsteps were heard making their way up the stairs before four loud voices joined them.

“That campaign was wicked, Mike! How did you even come up with that stuff?”

“Yeah, really! When the ware-bear showed up, I almost peed my pants!”

“I can’t believe that-”

They cut the conversation short when Dustin’s sentence was cut off by him stopping where he was, grinning so wide his eyes crinkled, and then bursting forward with energy as if he had just done a line of cocaine, before nearly toppling me over.

“Y/N! You’re here! I thought you were coming next week!”

“Surprise?”

The curly-haired 11-year-old turned around and showed his smile off while gesturing to the taller girl beside him,

“This is my sister, Y/N! Y/N, this is the party. That’s Will, Lucas, and Mike.”

The boys all started talking at once again, and I glanced at Nancy who had an amused smile, who leaned over to me to whisper,

“They do this all the time.”

Karen interrupted this time, saying that it was almost time for dinner, so the boys all better head home before their parents got worried. On the way out I had told everyone goodbye, before putting my skates on, as Dustin grabbed his bike from the pile.

“See you later, guys!” The boys all wished each other goodbye, before going in separate ways.

“When did you get here?” Dustin asked on the way home,

“Around lunchtime, I was unpacking the entire afternoon.”

“And you didn’t get me sooner?!” Dustin nearly shouted, clutching a hand to his chest while making puppy dog eyes. I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up from my chest, as I squeezed his cheek with my hand, which he slapped away.

“I’ll be here all year, dude. Maybe even longer. It all depends on dad.”

“So he’s working right now?

“Yep. We were running low on money, and I offered to come to live with you guys until he had enough money to support the both of us. He wants to buy a house, too. I’m trying to convince him to move here in Hawkins.”

“That would be so cool!”

Luckily the way home had a hill, so we had gotten home a lot faster than it took for me to get there. Walking inside the door, we were both met with the delicious smell of home-cooking. I looked down at the feeling of something on my leg,

“Aw!” I crouched down, picking up the golden cat, before snuggling it.

“That’s Mews, he’s practically our sibling with all the love mom gives him.”

I laughed before kissing his head and setting him back down, before ushering Dustin to my room,

“Where are you two off to? Dinner’s ready!”

“We’ll be right there, Mom! I’m just showing Dustin Mew’s new friend!”

Dustin gasped as I opened the door, leading him inside before closing the door, walking over to the one end of my room which held a cage about my height, I grabbed a bottle of hand sanitizer before passing some to Dustin after grabbing some myself.

“What is that?”

I only smiled, picking up the house inside, scooping the small creature out, before turning around, presenting the small fluff ball, as Dustin’s eyes lit up, as he had a face of pure awe.

“This is Galadriel, and she’s a chinchilla! She’s been waiting to meet you for a while! Do you want to hold her?”

Dustin nodded before sitting on my bed, holding his hands out, as I put her down in his hands, to which she turned and looked at him, moving her nose around before making a small noise, and hopped onto the bed, before hopping around Dustin, even hopping on him, as Dustin kept giggling.

“What’s she doing?”

“She’s dancing! Well, she’s hopping. It means she’s happy, she’s even chittering! I’m glad she likes you. Mews isn’t too sure of her, yet.”

“She’s so cute. I’m literally in love with this little dude.”

“C’mon, I can bring her back out after dinner, I don’t want mom to get mad at us.”

Dustin nodded, before picking her up and giving her a light hug, before handing her back. I scratched her little head behind her big ears, and set her back in her hammock in her cage, to go back to bed.

“Can I show her the party one day!?” Dustin asked, on the way to the table.

“Sure, I’ll be here.” I winked before settling in for dinner.

At home I didn’t have many home-cooked meals, I was used to takeout and noodle cups. Dad knew how to cook, we just couldn’t afford it. Though, I suppose this is my new home.

99 weeks left until season 5 :)

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[syncrovoid-presents]

Researching for my hazbin fic (A Cannibal's Guide on Living Comfortably) has also made me realize that my adoptive family (and me in relation to my birth family) actually suffer from cultural loss. And this ties to my adoptive family being half french like Alastor.

This is sort of a personal ramble about my experiences and how it relates to cultural loss. Just thoughts I've been having that's making me rethink a lot of things from my life.

(Technically I'm not but that's a whole other thing. I was found as a kid and never allowed to learn about my birth family or heritage so yeah. I'm just whatever people say I am. Means I have double the cultural loss, both from the people that raised me and my own! Yippee! <- sarcastic)

Both my parents are half french and grew up in small communities where there was very very high English vs French tensions. Both of my parents parent's decided that it would be best to give their children the easiest life they could so they raised them as English as possible.

They weren't allowed to learn french and were punished if they tried (both by family and the community. It was a lot worse where my mother grew up), and weren't allowed to continue any traditions, songs, or anything culturally French. Assimilation was the best chance at a future, but meant that they lost all ties to culture that wasn't acceptably English/colonial.

They were born a long time ago, so this was during the era of corporal punishment in school, my mother wasn't allowed to wear pants, my father was punished repeatedly for using his left hand, etc. They were also forced into churches because that's what The Good English Do, even though neither are religious now nor would they have been forced to if the hatred against the french hadn't been so strong.

The small town my mom grew up in had a segregated neighbourhood for the french, and her family fought to cut all ties. Her mother was french but was forced to only speak English and cut all ties to her family.

I don't know as much for my father, but it was his father that refused to teach or share anything French because of the hardships he went through growing up (he also ran away and lied about his age to fight in the war too young, so he likely faced heavy trauma too)

While neither of my parents are half english, they were able to pass as english at the expense of their cultural identity and connection to their family. I've spoken to my mother about it and she says white culture is genocide, but I don't know if she realizes how it hurt her too (not to say the french did nothing wrong. They were colonialists and took part in genocide as well)

It's weird to realize. I was put in french immersion and while my french isn't great, I've realized that my parents did that to give me the only opportunity I could have to learn about their lost culture. They learned a bit from me and would use french words and sometimes share translation quirks their parents had caused by learning english after french.

I grew up thinking that because I don't know anyone I'm related to that i had no culture. I've realized that part of the reason it feels that way is because anything non-English was forced out of people. The more you could pass as english the heavier the assimilation is. To join the oppressors is to sacrifice culture, history, and family, but that's a choice both my parents parent's made and it's one we all struggle with.

As far as I go, I don't know my precise ancestry, but I do know my birth grandparents fled from a country that was dealing with fighting for independence and a highly struggling economy. I'm not supposed to know that or know anything more, but from what I can guess and based on what people have said I look like (closest thing I got) my ancestors dealt with fighting against being colonized for centuries, their culture and history actively being destroyed and demonized, and the language borderline dead because of it (isnt the british imperialism great? <- sarcasm). A bit over a century ago it would have been the cause of much prejudice and hatred, but like my adoptive parents parent's they traded culture for assimilation.

It's.... weird. There's not much I can change nor not much I can do with this information movie forwards. It has helped me connect my experiences more with that of cultural loss, especially those felt by others who don't know any birth family. Because I pass as white (I do not know my genetics, so I'd rather say that than call myself white. Especially because what ancestry I do know I have weren't historically called white and faced discrimination by white folks) I previously thought these experiences could not apply to me.

As a side note, I do hold the belief that orphans like me, or others that lacked any family for much of their lives are part of a "hidden" minority. I faced a lot of extra difficulties, social pushback, and was treated worse than my peers because I am an orphan, as did different foster siblings I had over the years. Adoption means either never speaking about my life to pass as "normal" or speak about it and face the consequences. Every person's experiences are different when it comes to this, but it really changed the expectations adults had on me and forced me to be more mature, resilient, perfectionistic and less reactive to my peers. The expectation was if you acted bad you didn't appreciate having a home and therefore didn't deserve it. What others kids could get away with can be what loses your home when you grow up an orphan.

Anywho, circling back to my fic I'll be adding some elements of my experiences in there too. Not as the main focus, mind you, but some of the struggles of adapting/assimilating to the majority to avoid discrimination will be present (as well as some French (more focused on Creole French history. It was something a few of my french teachers focused a lot on) ). Just background info, I'm as of yet undecided on how much of a character study it will all be, but if it does go into it more then these themes will be present

[demonichikikomori]

Hello! ♡

It honestly does feel like the dream helped honestly lol Thanks Doppo!

I also really like Sailor Moon! I had a big crush on Seiya (Sailor Star Fighter from the Sailor Starlights) growing up. She's always the first thing I think of when I think Sailor Moon lol Tokyo Mew Mew is another anime/manga I have fond memories of! And Shugo Chara! ♡ Ughh it's so nice to think back to all these animes and mangas, just all the memories it brings! ♡ I had to look it up but I do remember Say I Love You! I read the manga! I haven't seen the anime adaptation so I'll have to check it out! Like as soon as I saw the cover of the first book memories immediately came rushing back lol

Omg that's so funny to think about cause I can just imagine like, if we took pictures during like a date or something they're just....in the background with their sunglasses and big coats at the table next to us lol But no I LOVE that! Like yes that is canon, if Rosho is going on a date with someone Sasara and Rei will be there. Lurking, chaperoning, giving Rosho moral support without him knowing lol

I agree, I'm a social drinker too! I feel that's the only time I do drink actually lol Omg everyone in my family loves Fireball except me and I'm not even joking. My mom (and a few of my other family members) will actually put an atomic fireball candy in their mouth before doing a shot of Fireball. But I do think the same thing that happened with you happened with my cousin as she also got sick off of Whiskey/Fireball. I guess if I HAD to pick a Whiskey to drink it would be Apple Crown, as I have tried that before and was able to stomach it lol Blue vodka lemonade does sound good though! Sweet fruity drinks are the best (at least to me lol)

Oh that is nice to think about! Rosho with his huge beer and me next to him with my sweet mixed drink lol ♡ I honestly love that post! Like I have honestly thought about writing scenarios based on that post cause the moment I saw it I sent it to my friend and her immediate response was, "Oh it's you" (in regards to the op being drunk and getting so excited seeing their cat they kissed it a million times lol) Cause it really is so me like if me and Rosho went out drinking (and I had a lot drinks) I could totally see myself just looking away from him for a moment (or leaving the room) and when I see him again just being so happy and excited to see him like, "Rosho!! ♡ When did you get here!! ♡ " even though he'd been there the whole time lol

Awwww it's no problem!! I'm happy to help! I didn't know people were talking about it on TikTok, as I learned about it from people posting recommendations for where to get pins for ita bags. Though I know there used to only be a jp site for them, and that you could only buy stuff from them through a proxy. There international site (which is the one I linked you!) is where you can buy directly from them! The most important thing is to wait for a free shipping promotion before ordering, cause if not the shipping will be very expensive! But they have these promotions a lot (usually on the weekends!) so just keep an eye out for them! ♡

Thank you! ♡

Magical girl anime is a staple in 90’s and late 80’s anime!! It’s such a fun genre for everyone too!! It’s not just romance which I like. I wanna see cute girls change into frilly costumes and defeat bad guys in the name of friendship!!!!! Just because that’s more fun than kissing boys!!!!!

You having a crush on Seiya reminds me of when I fell in love with Sessomaru before I learned ‘she’ was a ‘he’ LMAO!!! Still, very excellent taste!!

Rosho has a suspicion his chaperones are around somewhere, but he doesn’t want to alarm you with the fact his friends are third and fourth wheeling your date hahah!! Omg adding the candy before the shot is kinda nuts that might melt my stomach… Honestly I love the fruity drinks but if I HAD to drink whiskey again I would go back to Fireball. It tastes like cinnamon candy to me!! Just very strong…

Rosho wouldn’t know how to react to being covered in kiss marks wwww I think he would stick close to you at an event if you were drinking. But you have to hurry!! He doesn’t want you to miss the last train home, but if you do?? Don’t worry!! He’ll invite you over and bring you a shot of pickle juice and a water bottle. I think he's a very kind person when it comes to hangovers. Except when its Sasara and Rei. They did that to themselves. They need to deal with it!! I think he would have a hard time washing away your kiss marks. He absolutely took a picture in his bathroom and he wants to show you later to tease you a bit hehe.

I am one of the many youths who get all of their news and daily info on TikTok... Its a bad habit because I have been tricked many times... But I go back to them anyway!! Again, I saw the site but I'm so used to people using words like 'dropship scam' and 'fake site' and all that so I usually just look and turn away. But if you've used it then I'll trust your recommendation!! It's so hard finding merch but now I'm feeling at ease being able to find things for my Ita bag. I'll have to show you mine soon, it's a lil pathetic since I don't have a lot of merch but its slowly coming together!! <3 <3 <3 I'll try and order during the weekend like you said, and if I do a haul I'll let you know!! That and if I see anything for your faves I'll shoot you the link ASAP!!