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#‘are you actually going to— put me in there’ ‘yes >:)’
the-boy-meets-evil · 11 hours
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not according to plan | hjs
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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)
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“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? 
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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?” 
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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. 
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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. 
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“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. 
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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. 
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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.
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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. 
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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. 
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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.” 
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i hope you enjoyed this fic! let me know your thoughts 💕
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mrchiipchrome · 1 day
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You Always Go To The Parties
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W.C. - 5.7 k
okay so this is the project i've been working on for a little, hope y'all like it:) (also listen to American Wedding by Frank Ocean while y'all read this.)
To clarify, this is a lionesses x r series too, but this is literally just the chapter of introduction so that we can get to know the characters.
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“Do I really have to go? I can’t even drink legally here.” You groan, there was nothing stopping you from collecting your things and getting the hell out of that apartment in Boston, well except the manners instilled in you from an early age. There was nothing you’d like more than to crawl up in bed and sleep for the next few weeks.
No way Emma would let you do that. 
The sophomore defender had been one of the only people that had come back to college early, having been asked to show you around the campus and the facilities. She had quickly taken you under her wing, which meant that she wouldn’t let you sulk in bed the rest of August.
Brown cardboard boxes filled to the brim with different things, ranging from clothes to knick knacks, were stacked to the ceiling in the otherwise empty apartment. You didn’t mind, clearly, but it bothered Em.
You tuck your hands behind your head, staring up at the ceiling from your mattress that was placed directly on the floor. Your button up had the first few buttons undone, the top of your chest displayed for Em to see, you had even put your fancy trousers on for the stupid party you didn’t even want to attend.
“Yes, you really have to. How else do you expect to make friends, your cute British accent will only get you that far, you actually need to put in some effort okay?” Rolling your eyes at her words, you were quickly made to get up off the makeshift bed, getting pushed towards the door.
“But-” 
“No buts, you are going because I need someone to drive me home when I’m black out drunk tonight, you don’t want me to drink and drive right?” You can’t help but contemplate over her words, feeling the girl’s hand come down on your shoulder harshly. 
Clearly she didn’t like that.
“I mean you could just, I don't know…not drink?” She looks at you like she’s disgusted you’d even think about saying something like that, like she has to drink.
“Wow, it really is obvious your parents are rich.” You lock the door up as you look at her through the corner of your eye, a slightly judgemental look in your eyes.
Your parents were rich, but they didn’t spoil you so you weren’t one of those snobby rich kids, you were just like anyone else. Only you had access to more money than most.
“Shut up.” Emma puts her hands up in the air, like she’s surrendering to you, but you see the way she’s smiling slyly at you. Note to self; don’t get defensive when Em brings up your rich parents.
“You know, I could use a new Gucci bag if you want to contact daddy dear.” She looks up at you pleadingly as you make your way to her car, there was no way you’d use your car, it was far too expensive to be left outside a frat house. You really had to get a more beat up one.
Maybe you’d sell it, and donate the money you got for it to charity. 
“Aw, we’re taking my car?” Em whines, clearly she wanted to take your cool car.
“Aw, I’m not leaving my really expensive car outside of a frat house for hours.” You roll your eyes at her almost like she’s stupid, throwing her the keys so that she could drive, you didn’t even know where it was you were going.
“You know, you are really sassy for being a rich kid.” Em pulls out of the garage, the apartment complex you were living in was just off campus, so near that you walked there every day for pre-pre-season training (absolutely destroying Em every single time without fail).
“Yeah well, I grew up in the public education system in London, so that’s where I get it from.” You look on as the girl in the driver’s seat taps her fingers against the steering wheel, waiting for the red light to turn green.
“Really, I would’ve thought that they had you in private school from the second you popped out.” The green light stands out against the quickly darkening sky, starless and rather bleak, but that’s what you get for living in a big city.
“Nope, they wanted me to have a normal childhood, so here I am.” You motion to yourself, feeling the bumps and dips of the road beneath you, damn potholes.
“I mean fair enough right.” A certain quietness envelops the space between the two of you, it wasn’t uncomfortable, just present without any real purpose.
Your eyes slip shut, with Em turning the radio on, playing soft instrumental music like you weren’t in the middle of Boston where most people prefer hip hop and bubblegum pop. That was probably the biggest culture shock you'd been given so far, the music.
At home it was different, in a neutral way. It was neither better nor was it worse, but it was simply different.
You sink into your seat, the cool air blasting across your skin in that refreshing way, the summer’s heat canceled out by the air coming from the car. Slowly, sleep starts to take over your body in that calming sort of way that you’d wished for earlier.
It had only felt like moments since you’d fallen asleep as Em shakes your shoulders to get you to wake up, the pulsing music coming from the frat house a walking distance away already making your ears hurt. You look around at the surrounding nature, it wasn’t familiar to you, not the trees you’d found yourself memorizing nor the architecture present in Boston.
Even the people looked different, shirts with the printing of a dog on the front instead of the three books representing Harvard. Stupid of you to assume that Em would be rational for once.
“Where are we Em?” You ask, voice riddled with a sleepy kind of innocence that suggested that not everything had registered yet.
“We are in Connecticut, home of the huskies and what might be the best parties you’ll ever experience.” Your eyes shoot open wide, a more than flabbergasted look on your face at her naïve words.
“You kidnapped me and then drove me all the way to Connecticut for a party we could just as well have found in Boston?!” You ask her incredulously, like you couldn’t really believe her. And you couldn’t.
“Yeah, technically I did but you’ll also get to experience the party of your lifetime, so I think that it’s fine.” She tries to justify her actions by trying to reason with you, and whilst it doesn’t work in the way she wishes, Emma’s just happy you’re not totally freaking out.
“Come on grumpy, let’s go. Who knows, you might even have some fun.” Em pulls you along towards the house spewing flashing lights in a hundred different colors.
You let your eyes adjust to the blinking lights as you enter through the open front door, seeing the entire bottom floor of the mansion-like house covered with hundreds of students, packed together tightly like a sweaty sardine can.
The house reeks of bad body wash, moldy pits and strong cheap alcohol, and in a sense of the word Em really did tell the truth, you’d never seen anything like it before. It was almost like those frat boys couldn’t afford to buy deodorant.
If your arm wasn’t as firmly attached to your body as it was, you were sure that Emma would’ve torn it off by now, the resistance of the sweaty bodies pushing against your own as she leads you to the kitchen proving to be a difficult task for her weak arms.
Reaching the entrance of the large kitchen, the first thing you notice is that it’s not as tightly packed as the living room, only a few stragglers here and there with the stereotypical red solo cups can be found in every single person’s hand. Future alcoholists.
 “Okay, base rules since you’ve never been to a college party before, don’t take a drink from anyone you don’t know, don’t accept anyone’s request to go upstairs or somewhere private, you’ll most likely get robbed, don’t be too snarky, people don’t appreciate that and… I think that’s all. Have a nice night!” And with that she’s off to the living room, plucking a cup from a random man’s hand and taking a sip before leading him to the dance floor.
Yeah, base rules or whatever.
Standing alone in the kitchen, you suddenly feel so awkward. The only real parties you’d been to were the one’s your friends threw when your parents were away on their stupidly long business trips, just the chaotic friend group drinking together.
So this, college parties, was something that was totally out of your comfort zone and you’d never hated anyone as much as you hated Em right at that moment.
Spotting a boy out of the corner of your eye, you approach him with confident, yet still relatively hesitant steps, a question at the tip of your tongue. He looks up at you when you’re close enough to smell the odor of old spice deodorant and way too much sweat, his hat turned backwards on his head to hide the greasy hair still somehow poking its way through.
You almost feel bad for the poor thing, well that is until his mouth opens and you’re staring into the hell that is a frat boy’s gob. 
“‘Sup dude, what can I do for you?” His eyes run all along your body, from your ankles up to your face where he notices the annoyed expression.
“I was wondering if you had anything non alcoholic.” You smile staley, eyebrows furrowing together when his eyes light up like a kid on christmas. His laugh feels slightly insulting, especially when his hand comes up to point at you, but there’s really not a lot you could do.
“Dude totally, say the thing though.” You look at him confused, like you didn’t know what he meant. Spoiler alert; you did. “Y’know bo'ohw'o'wo'er.” 
He laughs again when you roll your eyes, and even if all you desire is to punch his stupid face in, you still say the phrase. Was it worth it for a coke? Eh, debatable.
He opens the fridge and throws you the can and laughs once more at your dirty look.
Sipping the drink slowly as you make your way around the house, the UConn students around you stare unashamedly at you, like they knew your face from somewhere, but you weren’t familiar per se. 
Your face scrunches up at the metallic taste of the American coke, much preferring the Mexican one they had in the canteen. You couldn’t complain too much though, you were the one who actually let yourself get dragged to the party.
It’s sudden, the way her eyes catch yours. Deep pools of endearing brown that capture your entire soul in a single second. The girl was mesmerizing as she stood leaning against the wall across from you, her long brown hair falling so effortlessly down her back.
Her gaze is just focussed on you for a second or two, her attention soon being stolen by the man standing in front of her, a sleazy smirk on his face as his eyes ran all along her body. It was clear that she was uncomfortable purely by the way her lips were turned downwards and the way her hands fiddled with the hem of her crop top.
There seems to be a lull in their one sided conversation as she looks to you almost pleadingly, getting the hint almost immediately, you walk over with confident steps, dropping the now empty can on the floor on the way.
The man is almost as tall as you, his burly shoulders disproportionate to the rest of his awkward body, his meaty hands gripping the red cup tightly like he was afraid someone would steal it from him. His hooded eyes do a once over when he spots you nearing them, almost turning a green pale at the sight of you.
You don’t understand why, there was no way you knew him and being recognised as Harvard’s newest addition would be unlikely. Especially in Connecticut.
“Everything alright here?” The girl seems startled by your accent, but she quickly schools her features so as to not show her surprise. Her hands wrap around your waist, and when you look down at her she looks back up at you with pleading eyes, asking you to just go along with it for the time being.
Your arm wraps around her shoulders and she leans into your body almost subconsciously, like you’ve known each other for much longer than you have.
“Yeah, everything’s going good.” He says, not backing down despite having been nervous at your mere presence only seconds before.
“Really? Because from where I stood it looked like you were flirting with my girlfriend.” You don’t even get the satisfaction of watching his gummy smile fade from his thin lips as he takes in your words, because he walks away from you before you can see it.
It makes you chuckle, especially since he walks up to another girl almost immediately, getting turned down in the same second.
“You okay?” You question the girl in your arms, her hand still resting on your waist as you take her in. You can feel her hair against your arm, her nails digging into your skin ever so slightly and the rest of her body pressed so tightly against your own.
“Yeah, he just wouldn’t leave me alone, thank you for the help.” She smiles at you sweetly, her brown eyes shining under the flashing lights. You smile back at her softly, noticing the way her grip loosens, you quickly let up on your grip of her shoulders.
Her unsure steps catch your attention as she takes your hand in her soft one, just like Em had done earlier in the evening.
“Where are you taking me?” You laugh through the sentence as she tries to pull you through the crowd of people, stumbling over her feet clumsily every so often.
“Do you like burgers?” She questions hastily, nearly having pulled you all the way to the front door already, she was a lot stronger than Em that’s for sure.
"Doesn't everyone?” You smile goofily when she looks back at you, her eyes narrowed playfully when you send her a wink. It’s only when you’re already out the door that you realize that Em is still in there, with people you don't know. Strangers.
You stop walking, the girl’s hand still in yours as she too stops, looking back at you confused.
“I’m sorry but my friend, Em, is still in there and I don’t want to leave her alone with strangers.” Her eyes light up again and you look at her weirdly, not understanding why she looked so happy that you had to leave.
“Em Whitmore?” She giggles at the shocked look on your face, clearly you didn’t know much about Em, the girl thinks to herself. You look at her suspiciously, how did she know Em?
“Yeah…how’d you know?” You ask her, still suspicious of her pretty intoxicated form. Her laugh carries all throughout the empty night, no one out and about except you and the mystery girl who’s soft hand is still in yours.
“I know her brother, she comes to a lot of parties here, because she knows she’ll be safe.” The brunette starts pulling you along again and you let yourself follow her, no longer worried about your Harvard counterpart. Her brother wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her.
By the time you reach the 50’s themed diner, you’ve already walked for ten minutes, side by side with the dark haired girl. You’re lucky that it wasn’t too far away, the half stumbling girl beside you probably wouldn’t have been able to walk that far without falling over.
The bell at the top of the door chimes when she pushes it open, the bored looking cashier perking up when he sees your companion. It was empty in the diner and you couldn’t imagine that keeping it open for this long wasn’t only for the drunk college students looking for a quick snack.
She drags you over to a booth in the corner, decorated in red and white stripes, a glass with straws standing in the middle of the table with a napkin holder beside it.
“Welcome to Donna’s Diner, what can I get for you?” The boy from the counter comes up to the booth after you’ve both settled, handing the two of you plastic menus. The dark haired girl smiles up at him, that fantastic glint in her eye once more.
“Come on now Alex, no need to be all professional.” You look up at him from where you’re sitting, his blonde hair curling around his ears, green eyes staring into yours kindly, thin fingers clasping the small notebook in his hands.
“Alex, this is my new friend, she knows Callum’s little sister, mystery friend, this is Alex and he’s in one of my classes.” You smile at him softly, sticking your hand out for him to shake, and he does take it in a confident grip, sending you a smile of his own.
“I’m Y/n.” Now the mystery girl looks up at you, finally a name attached to your face.
“Nika, I already know what you want, but how about you?” He looks to you when he speaks, obviously you wouldn’t know what to order, it being your first time there and all.
“I’ll just have whatever she’s having with a chocolate milkshake.” Alex disappears behind the counter again, your eyes following his retreating form. Looking away from the kitchen door, your eyes quickly meet the ones of the girl you now know as Nika.
One of her hands was tucked under her chin, keeping her head up in order to look at you. Relaxing into the cushions behind you, the small smile slowly taking over your face suddenly becomes full blown.
“What is it?” She giggles under her breath at your inquisitive look, and despite not knowing much more than her name, you already felt like she knew your soul inside and out.
“Nothing…it’s just that this is the last place I would’ve thought that you would bring me to.” The furrow in her brow is frankly quite adorable, her head turning to the side just in time to catch Alex walking out the kitchen with your food. 
You see the way her eyes light up again, the platter of pure greasy goodness at the center of her attention right at that moment. All you could think about at that second was how thankful you were that the season hadn’t started yet, because everything there broke every single diet you could think of.
Looking to the brunette, the laugh bubbling up from the pit of your stomach is almost one of wonder, because the beautiful girl had already managed to get through half the burger that was in front of her. It seemed like her intoxicated brain only was focussed on one thing, satiating her hunger.
It isn’t long until you follow her lead, picking up the burger and just trying to get the most you could of it in your mouth. You can’t help the groan that escapes you when the exquisite flavours hit your taste buds all at once, having to lean back into the cushions of the booth to be able to take it all in, closing your eyes fully to enhance the experience even further.
It’s only when she laughs that you finally open your eyes again, only to see her looking right at you like you were made of glass, like she could read you like a book and then play you like a fiddle.
“I understand, I had the exact same reaction when I tried it.” She continues to giggle at you when you start to eat like a poor man starved. It was a funny sight to be fair, the way your fancy act completely disappears when in contact with amazing food.
“How’d you even find this place?” You question her when you’ve swallowed and wiped your mouth off with a napkin, you still had manners after all. She smiles at you, gesturing at your surroundings, at the tables and the booths, the chairs and the ketchup bottles, at everything.
“I was drunk after a party once in freshman year and I just stumbled across it.” You nod in response, completely understanding the randomness of how she’d found the place. When you’re drunk, all you want is some greasy food.
“So it’s a well guarded secret between the students then? I assume there’s usually more people here at this time of night.” You take a sip of the milkshake when the last word has fallen from your lips, heat spreading across your face at the intense look you’re getting from the brunette in front of you.
It’s probably just because she’s drunk, you think quietly to yourself, almost trying to convince your mind that the stupidly attractive smile on her face was just one of momentary value, that it was only because it was late and you were tired that it affected you in the way it did.
“Yeah, something like that.” She responds, a comfortable silence enveloping you two as you continue to eat.
The only thing that could be heard was the murmur of the fan across the room, the patting of the fingers of the boy, Alex, at the counter and the sound of shallow breathing. Well that was until her accented voice breaks it with a question.
“So, how’d you manage to befriend the girl with the scariest brother ever?” Nika asks you, her fingers playing with the napkin she’d taken only moments before. Her teeth capture her bottom lip softly as she looks at you tentatively, she’s positively driving you nuts with her pure unfiltered beauty.
“Well, for starters we both play football for Harvard, but she was the first one there to greet me, to help me pack up the necessities and all that. She never did mention a brother though.” You relish in the way she looks at you, all flustered and sweet despite you not having done anything in particular. It was adorable. Pause.
She nods absentmindedly, opening her mouth to speak before closing it and then opening it again, resembling a fish out of water more than anything.
“Were you going to say something love?” You ask the now blushing girl, and she hides her face in her hands at the embarrassment, clearly having zoned out for a little while there.
Reaching over, you pat her shoulder comfortingly before you ask her your next question.
“How about you? How do you know Em’s brother?” Nika reaches over the table to steal a few of your fries, laughing at the betrayed look on your face.
Maybe it was the drinks or maybe you were just funnier than you’d originally thought, either way the angelic sound of her laughing had graced your ears many times that evening. Not that you minded, you didn’t even mind a little bit.
“He plays basketball, I play basketball, and sometimes we train together.” You can’t help the feeling taking over you, the burning feeling that makes you question everything you’d ever known about yourself. Just the thought of your friend’s brother getting to enjoy her company makes the feeling inside you that much worse.
 It seems like she sees the way your expression changes just that little bit before it goes back to normal.
“So, you’re like…close?” You ask the basketball player timidly, rolling your eyes only seconds later when the brunette decides to take a sip of your milkshake.
“No, not especially close. I mean, we talk when we have to at the shared training sessions, but not outside of it. But realistically though, who in the world of college sports doesn’t know Callum Whitmore?” Looking at her cluelessly, you sarcastically shrug as if to say you, because you truly hadn’t known a single thing about the man before she had told you.
By the third time Nika reaches for your fries, you decide to just push them towards her and let her have them, you weren’t even hungry after the monster burger you’d just consumed. It wasn’t at all just because she was too pretty not to get whatever she wanted. Pause.
“You want to switch?” She gestures to your drinks, she’d gotten a strawberry milkshake that she didn’t seem to fancy all that much right at that moment. Sighing goodnaturedly, you give her a nod and allow her to take whatever was left of your shake, smiling softly as you sip absentmindedly at the pink shake she’d given you. 
Soon enough, the only thing that could be heard over the natural noise of the diner was the slight slurping every so often.
“I just got to go wash up, then I’ll walk you home, okay?” The brunette nods as she looks at you leaving, pulling out her phone to seemingly start to text someone not long after.
You walk up to Alex, who’s still standing at the counter and he smiles in your direction when you near, only seeing you out of the corner of his eye. Pulling out your wallet, you hold out your card to him.
“Could you do a to go order? God knows she’ll need that in the morning.” You nod your head in Nika’s direction, Alex smiling widely at you.
“You know, I’ve never seen her with you before…” His voice trails off, as if to tell you to fill in the blanks.
“Yeah, we only met tonight.” You smile at him staley, not understanding why the timeline of events was so important.
“You must be special then if she brought you here, it’s not often she brings anyone other than her friends here after a night out. Nico, drop me two burgers on the grill, one choc milkshake and a strawberry one.” As you walked towards the bathroom of the establishment, putting your card back in your wallet, you started to think about his words, wasn’t this place well known? What made it so special to Nika that the server had to point out how she never brought strangers there?
Wiping your hands off on your trousers, you go up to your table to collect Nika before swinging by the counter to pick up your to-go order, the brown paper bag looking out of place next to the two of you. It seems like she’s sobered up at least a little as she looks at you questioningly, her eyes soon falling to the bag in your hands and then back up at your face.
The bell chimes again when the two of you exit the diner, the cooling air of the late night a contrast to the warm atmosphere of the diner.
“What’s that for?” The furrow in her brow is so endearing that you almost feel the skip in your heartbeat, her eyes narrowing at you ever so slightly. Her arm threads through yours, one of your hands in the pocket of your trousers, creating the perfect space for her arm to go through.
You sneak a glance at her, flyaways being highlighted by the streetlights you were passing. Her head meets your shoulder as you start to walk back to the party, her apartment couldn’t be too far from it considering she hadn’t mentioned anything when you offered to walk her home.
“It’s for you, I just know that hungover Nika is going to crave Donna’s diner’s milkshakes to calm her raging headache.” You tease her softly, but there was definite truth there either way.
If there was one thing you knew about being hungover, then it was that good food usually helped at least a little (well, after the spells of throwing up everything from the previous night.) You give her a cheeky smile as you near the party once more, the booming music being heard from miles away. 
“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that.” She speaks sincerely, you just smile at her in response, did you have to do it? No, but she’d kept you company all night so you did it anyway.
“Hey, can I just stop by my friend’s car before I walk you home? I just have to get something.” You were so thankful that you’d stolen the keys from Em before you went into the party only hours before. Leading her to the beat up truck, unlocking it and opening the door, you place the bag on the ground before you look through the glove compartment.
Finding the cartridge of painkillers and the pen that you were searching for with a small ‘aha’. The post-it notes Em always kept in her car finally came to use when you stole one, writing a quick message on it before sticking it to the plastic of the painkillers and dropping it down the brown paper bag.
You lock the car up, despite it being a piece of shit that no one would ever steal, Em always insisted on you locking it. 
Walking up to her side once more, you open your mouth to speak.
“So, lead the way home love.” You gesture for her to take the lead, it was her apartment after all. Taking your free hand in hers, the girl starts to lead you towards her apartment building, walking calmly side by side with your hands swinging between your bodies.
After passing countless trees, and even more cars, you suddenly find yourselves at the bottom of the slanted hill leading up to where she lives, and when you actually start to walk up the long walkway, it’s slowly almost like you’re both resisting the natural order of events.
But you had to leave her, both Em and Harvard were waiting for you and no matter how much you tried to resist, you knew that’s ultimately where you had to go, it was your life even if the girl you’d just met seemed far more interesting than anything.
When you reach the top, just meters away from the door, you hand her the bag, smiling timidly when she reached out to hug you, her inviting perfume enveloping you in a blanket of warmth. When she pulls away, she thanks you one last time for your kindness.
“Really, it’s no problem.” You reassure her, smiling softly when she turns back towards you one last time before the distance between you becomes larger and larger, her fingers soon punching in the code to open the door.
“Wait!” You call out for her right as she’s about to enter the building, her head turning back to you questioningly. “Don’t forget to put it in the fridge when you get in.” She smiles and nods before disappearing behind the door.
You start your walk back to the party a few minutes after the door has closed, something just keeping you rooted to the ground. It wasn't until you heard your name get called by that familiar voice that you turned around, seeing Nika through her open window, waving at you as you walked away.
It almost felt like you were in some cheesy romance movie as you waved back, turning to walk away after she closed her window. 
Truth be told, the evening had felt like something straight out of a romcom and some part deep down loved it. It loved the cheesy moments of pure unbridled love, the ability to express yourself freely, to dance in the rain, be your true authentic self in front of someone else was something you didn’t even know you longed for before you met Nika.
You shove your hands into the pockets of your trousers, every step you take moving you closer and closer to the frat house, closer to Em and closer to getting back to Boston.
Seeing Em sitting out on the steps of the house has you confused, why was she out there?
“Em? What are you doing out here?” You ask the clearly incredibly intoxicated Emma, your loud voice not even startling her, her slow movements showing just how drunk she is. The squeal she lets out when she sees you has you covering your ears, the intrusive sound killing your tired head.
She tries to stand up, but it just looks like Bambi on ice, stumbling and falling at every second. You come up and sling her arm around your shoulder, bringing her over to her car and sitting her down in the passenger seat.
“I’m not cleaning up if you throw up in here, just so you know.” She nods drunkenly, clearly not understanding a word you were saying.
“The reason why I was sitting outside is a long story.” She leans her head against the window, and knowing Em, she was probably imagining herself in a music video right at that moment.
“You can tell me tomorrow.” The car starts with a rumble and you pull out of the parking space on the side of the road, quickly pulling out and starting to drive on the main road.
It’s quiet for a while and you almost believe that Emma’s asleep, well almost since her feet move back and forth against the floor every so often.
“Where were you huh? What were you doing?” Her words are incredibly slurred and you can barely make out what it is she’s trying to say.
“None of your business mate.” She snickers at you, reading way too much into your response than she should have.
“You got some.” The way your face turns red doesn’t help your case even in the slightest, especially when she herself points out your reddening cheeks.
“Shut up and go to sleep, Em.” Your voice cracks in the middle of the sentence, still embarrassed by her insinuation.
“Mhm, you totally got some pussy.” You sigh as she laughs again, she was clearly getting a lot more joy from the situation than you were.
“Go to sleep Em.”
“Mhm.”
Maybe she had been right after all, maybe you had fun and maybe, just maybe the decision to go to the party was a good one. Not that you’d ever let her know that.
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mediumgayitalian · 1 day
Text
“You ready, Lou?”
“Duh.”
“Cecil? You’ve got full faith in your cabin?”
“Yep.”
“What about you, Will? Were your threats successful?”
“My bribes went wonderfully, thank you.”
“Then I think we’re a go.”
“Gods, this is going to be great.”
———
Knockknockknock.
Nico locks in on his game. He is so, so close to finally making it through this stupid quest, he can feel it, and if he doesn’t beat The Imprisoned before Percy he’s going to set the camp on fire.
Knockknockknock.
“Just — hold on a second!” He spams B, cursing loudly to himself, ignoring the twinge in his lower back from holding this position for so long. “Fuck, fuck, come on.” He clenches his teeth, knuckles white against the Wii remote, until finally — the boss falls. He cheers.
Fuck yes. Take that, Percy.
Tossing the remote on his bed, he jogs over to the door, sliding open the three bolts and unlocking the chains. On his porch is a blur of movement, hair frizzy and pulled-on, shirt rumbled.
“Oh, hey, Annabeth.”
She barely acknowledges him, focusing intently on pacing back and forth on the stone porch at the speed of light. He settles against the door frame, stretching out his spine, watching her mutter to herself.
“Chiron is leaving,” she says.
Nico raises an amused eyebrow. “I am aware.”
“With Mr. D. To some conference.”
“I heard.”
“He’s gone until early tomorrow evening.”
“Uh-huh.”
“He left me in charge.”
“Probably wise.”
“I need an allegiance, Nico.”
“Slow down and tell me what you mean, first.”
She sighs, coming to a stop in front of him. Her fingers still drum across her biceps, and her eyes dart around, evaluating. Her teeth dig into her bottom lip.
“Camp’s a lot of work,” she says finally. “I’ve never been in charge of so many people at once before, and like hell am I gonna let Chiron think I can’t handle it. I have a Plan, and you’re a part of it.”
Nico resists the urge to groan. Chiron leaving is supposed to mean he gets the next day or so off — no classes, no socializing, nothing. Just him in his cabin and the genuinely disgusting amount of junk food he has amassed.
(…And Will. Maybe.)
“It’s nothing crazy,” she promises. “I just need you to lurk.”
“…Lurk?”
“Yeah, you know. Chill in the shadows and scare people into complacency. You don’t even need to do much, just that thing where you stare at people like you know the exact day they’re going to die.”
“I do love lurking,” Nico admits. And to basically have a free pass to scare the shit out of whoever he wants… “I’ll do it.”
She smiles brightly. “Thanks, Nico! I knew I could count on you. I’ll meet up with you right after Chiron heads out, okay? To give you a list of people to keep your eye on.”
“Sure. Bye, Annabeth.”
“See ya!”
He closes the door and pads back to his setup, shaking the remote to get it going again. He can’t quite shake the smirk off his face.
The next twenty four hours are going to rock.
———
“Swiper No Swiping, initiate phase one.”
“Roger that, Sunny Dick.”
“…I’m revoking your code name priveledges.”
“No no no, I’m sorry, I’ll change it.”
———
Before Chiron leaves, he gathers them all in the amphitheatre.
“Children,” he calls, adjusting the bow slung across his back. “I am leaving now for my conference. I will be back before the sun sets tomorrow.” He gestures towards Annabeth, standing stiffly beside him. “Annabeth is in charge. Consider all my authority transferred to her before I return, am I understood?”
“Yes, Chiron,” courses the camp, some with significantly more attitude than others. Across the gathered crowd, Will catches his eye and winks. (Well, tries to. He has yet to catch on to the fact that he cannot, actually, wink, and instead just blinks really intentionally. Kayla and Austin have sworn him to secrecy.) Nico rolls his eyes, ears burning, and looks away.
“Good. Regular rules; no maiming, killing, or injuries above level seven. Any arson will result in a revoking of dessert privileges. Yes, Julia, even if you help in putting out the arson. It is the fire that is the issue, you understand. Excellent.” He claps his hands together. “I am looking forward to one day of peace. Try to avoid ruining it for me too quickly. Goodbye, children.”
With a wave and a fond squeeze of Annabeth’s shoulder, he trots over to Half-Blood Hill, ignoring Mr. D’s loud complaining about how long he took. With a snap of Mr. D’s fingers, they disappear. For a brief, uncanny moment, everything is still.
“Alright,” Annabeth shouts, clapping her hands together. Nico jumps. “Dinner is in an hour. Whoever is the first to fuck something up will be doing dishes. I will be watching. Dismissed.”
Wading through the swathes of ambling teenagers, she walks by where Nico is leaning against a pillar, half-hidden in the shadows.
“Lurk,” she orders, passing him.
Nico shoots her a mocking salute, fading into the shadow behind him. He barely catches her grin before he dissolves into the darkness.
———
“Phase two in effect. Ready to go, Sabrina Spellman?”
“Prepped to go, Teletubbies Sun Baby.”
“I hate both of you.”
———
“Halt!”
Across the common, three suspicious figures freeze, glance behind them, and then resume walking as casually as they can.
“I said halt! Do not move! Cease all function!”
Milling nervously towards each other, Dumb, Dumber, and Dumbest pause, shifting the three massive cardboard boxes they hold each.
“Hi, Annabeth,” Will says, smiling innocently. Cecil and Lou Ellen match him, eyes wide, expressions angelic.
Annabeth stomps over to them, fists clenched at her sides, entirely unmoved by the cherubic display in front of her. Nico stays right where he is, hidden by the shade of Cabin Eight.
“Explain yourselves,” Annabeth orders.
The three stooges exchange a look.
“Whatever do you mean,” Lou Ellen asks, shifting the boxes to free up her hand only to place it delicately over her chest. “Why, we are only helping our dear friend William —”
“Our dear, dear friend,” Cecil adds.
“— carry these many boxes of medical supplies, so as to lower his great burden —”
“Massive burden,” Will says sagely.
“— and free up his evening in order for him to spend his limited time with us, his most cherished friends.”
“Especially cherished,” Will and Cecil chorus together.
Unable to bite back a smile, Nico rolls his eyes so hard his skull hurts. They’re not even trying to not get caught, at this point. Idiots.
Clearly agreeing, Annabeth scoffs. “Yeah, right. Boxes down, all three of you. You’re being detained for suspected illicit substances.”
“Annabeth!” Will cries, hand to his chest, “after all I do for this camp, you would accuse me of being — illicit?! Me?! The outrage! The insult! The impugn, the —”
“Can it, Solace. Open the boxes.”
Huffing in perfect unison, the three of them carefully lower their boxes to the ground.
“Tape off.”
Intentionally slowly, they run a nail along the edge of the packing tape.
“Flaps open, guys, c’mon.”
With flourish, the trio fling open the thin cardboard panels. Inside each box is rows of bandages, packaged syringes, sterile bands, tongue compresses, and more that Nico can’t name. Annabeth glares at the boxes with perhaps more disdain than the situation calls for.
Then again.
It is camp.
“See?” says Cecil, gesturing grandly. “The shipment just came in from my dad.”
Like a hound dog locking in on a bleeding squirrel, Annabeth’s eyes narrow. Her lips spread into wide, frankly maniacal smirk.
“Your dad is in a conference with the rest of the Olympians right now, Markowitz.”
Caught.
“Well,” Cecil says, and then nothing else.
“He meant it in the royal sense,” Lou Ellen pipes up in his silence. Cecil nods frantically. “You know, ‘just’ as in, like, recently, as in this morning —”
“Do you three think I’m stupid.”
“It’s just medical supplies! You can look through them if you want —”
Even if they weren’t acting like criminals, Nico knows his friends. He knows his boyfriend, especially, and recognises that damn look on his face. He can also physically see Annabeth’s stress ulcer coming back.
Closing his eyes, Nico fades into Cabin Six’s shadow. It’s a quick jump, so the stretch is easy, and the darkness bows easily to his hold. He reappears silently behind the group, taking advantage of the setting sun, and darts out to grip Lou Ellen’s arm.
“Boo,” he whispers.
She shrieks at the top of her lungs, jumping three clean feet in the air. Coincidently, the boxes of medical supplies flicker, turning into a truly baffling amount of instant mashed potato boxes.
“I knew it!” Annabeth shouts.
On cue, all three doofuses turn to Nico, jeering and complaining about ‘ruining the fun’. Nico’s glare is ineffective on Doofus #1, but the other two can be cowed. He focuses on channelling the flames of hell to reflect in his eyes like his father showed him until they look away, muttering at the ground.
“We still don’t have any illicit substances,” Will insists, glaring right back. Nico sticks out his tongue. He crosses his eyes like a four year old. How immature, honestly. “So we’re just gonna take our stuff and —”
“Absolutely not, Golden Boy. Put that hand away.”
Wisely, Will draws slowly back from the boxes, tucking his hands in his pocket.
Annabeth stares, hard, at the three of them, flicking her dark eyes from the potatoes and back. The tips of her worn-out converse tap slowly on the packed grass, tip-tap-tip-tap, as they all squirm.
Understanding dawns on her quickly.
“It’s supposed to rain tomorrow, for the strawberry plants.”
They squirm harder.
“Oh, you godsdamn bitches.”
“It would’ve been really funny,” Cecil mumbles, staring at the ground. “Rain making the ground turn into a sea of mashed potatoes. Like Cloudy With A Chance Of Meatballs.”
“The only meatballs around here are the ones clogging up your skull!” Annabeth shouts, which doesn’t quite make sense but sounds clever coming from her anyway. “Who was gonna clean that up, huh? Magic?”
“I mean, probably,” Lou Ellen says, promptly shutting up at Annabeth’s glare.
“And you, Will! I cannot believe! Where is that responsibility you’re known for, huh?”
Will pouts. “I can be responsible and do fun things.”
“Fun, he says. I’m going to fucking kill you, how’s that for fun. The one day I’m left in charge, I cannot believe —”
“If it helps, it’s less about you and more about April Fools being tomorrow,” Cecil interjects tentatively. “Like, we were going to do this whether or not Chiron left.”
Annabeth glares darkly. “Of fucking course you were. It’s always you three, I swear to the gods. I should have known.”
“It’s honestly kind of embarrassing for you guys,” Nico adds. He smiles smugly at them, relishing in their rolled eyes and mocking hands. “Like, everyone expected this. You did this to yourselves, honestly.”
“Boo, you jag,” Lou Ellen protests. The other two knuckleheads joint in the booing, Will taking it an extra stop forward and blowing a raspberry, both thumbs pointing down. Nico responds with a wide grin and two middle fingers.
“Enough,” Annabeth says, rubbing her temples. “Extra chores, all three of you. Go help the cleaning harpies until sundown. And not another peep of complaint or I’ll have you on chores tomorrow, too.”
Without another glance at them, she turns around and walks away, muttering at least you caught it early at least you caught it early at least you caught it early over and over to herself.
“Pretty sure you guys have physical labour to do,” Nico says brightly when she disappears into the Big House. “I’d get started on that, if I were you.”
“Butthead,” Cecil mutters.
“Kiss-ass,” Lou Ellen agrees, making a face.
“Traitor,” Will whispers, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he walks past.
Nico watches them go, standing guard over the boxes in case they try to come back for them.
He can’t help but think that they all look a little too jovial for having their plans ruined before they even started.
———
“Is he still looking?”
“No.”
“Okay, Phase Three, let’s go let’s go let’s go —”
———
Every time Nico wakes with the sun, he sets aside twenty minutes of his morning routine to curse Apollo, his father, Apollo again, Phanes, and Prometheus. In that order.
He does like the bonus of getting breakfast. Usually he sleeps through it and has to hope Will saved him coffee cake, which he does, every time, because he wants to bribe his way into Nico’s affections. But there is something to be said about camp coffee cake when it is still warm, crumbly on the top and soft on the inside. It is a rare and occasionally worth-it treat, and on his bleary walk to the dining pavilion, Nico tries to keep this in the forefront of his mind. Fresh coffee cake. Fresh coffee. Fresh fruit. And Will, probably, not that seeing him is worth getting up early or anything. (So what that he gets all excited and energetic when he sees Nico up in the morning. If anything it’s embarrassing for him.)
For once, he’s actually early enough that there are very few people already at breakfast. He sees most of the Athena kids, still half-asleep over their mugs, and pretty much every camper under the age of eleven. A few head counsellors, too, watching out for the little ones or catching up on a rare moment of quiet. Nico makes a beeline for the breakfast spread, cutting a slice of coffee cake to leave on the platter and putting the rest of it on his plate. He puts a single strawberry in the middle of it so no one can accuse him of being unhealthy, then ambles over to the Apollo table.
“Neeks? Where’re you going?”
Nico pauses. He shifts his plate to one hand, rubbing at his bleary eyes. He looks at the Apollo table. He counts one, two, three heads — Kayla, Austin, and…Cecil?
“Nico? You good, babes?”
He turns, slowly, to face the voice. Picking at a plate full of pineapple, next to Reika Onason, Lou Ellen's sister, is Will.
“I know mornings are hard for you, but you’re meant to eat at your table,” he teases. “Come sit, doofus. Unless you’re taking advantage of Chiron’s absence to make friends elsewhere, I guess, but it seems unlike you.”
“You’re — what’re you — what?“ Nico says dumbly, struggling to reconcile the imagine in front of him.
For some reason, Will is eating his breakfast at the Hecate table.
And that is not all.
For some reason, his camp shirt does not say head medic. For some reason, he is wearing black jeans. For some reason, dozens of Celestial bronze rings adorn his fingers, carved with sigils. For some reason, his hair is clipped back, and there is black eyeliner around his bright blue eyes, and his nails are painted darker than Nico’s, and he is sitting at the Hecate table.
“What are you doing?”
“Having…breakfast,” Will says slowly. His lips turn down in concern. “Nico, are you okay?”
“I’m fine! It’s — you’re the one acting weird!”
Will and Reika exchange a look.
“Maybe you should go see Cecil,” Will suggests carefully. “Did you sleep okay last night? Maybe you hit your head —”
Nico looks desperately back at the Apollo table. They watch him strangely now, too, and after a second Cecil gets up from his — Will’s — seat, and walks over.
“Everything okay?” he asks, impish expression almost serious. “You look pale, Nico.”
“I’m worried,” Will says. “He’s acting — confused, Cece, maybe there’s a —”
“I’m not confused,” Nico scowls. “You two are — doing something.” He gestures vaguely between them. “As revenge for yesterday.”
Will snorts. “What, the potatoes? Don’t let Lou hear you discredit her like that. If you think she’d plan some revenge prank on you this early, you don’t know her at all.”
Nico’s head starts to hurt. He sets down his plate, rubbing his temples. Why would Lou Ellen be so bothered by that? Why isn’t she here, with her sister? What the hell is going on?
“Both of you — cut it out. Whatever dumbass prank you’re pulling is just stupid.”
“Did I hear something about a prank?” Bounding over from the camp store, arms laden with contraband junk food, is Lou Ellen, smiling brightly. “Whatever it is, I want in!”
“Oh, thank the gods, you’re back.” Will makes grabby hands at the pile. She tosses him a pack of twizzlers off the top, rolling her eyes as he tears into like he didn’t just polish off two and a half entire pineapples and three bowls of oatmeal. “I was going through withdrawal.”
“I’m not helping you when your stomach cramps up,” Cecil promises, snorting. His eyes follow the candy ropes in their harried journey towards Will's gaping maw. “You can sit in your misery.”
“Bleh bleh bleh.”
Nico narrows his eyes at them. Clearly, they’re all in on this — bit, or whatever it is. It’s a little too coordinated to be a quickly-planned revenge prank. They must have had a backup to the potatoes, although a pretty weak one. Unless they somehow managed to bribe the entire camp into agreeing to act along with their dumbassery, and Nico knows none of them can come even close to affording that, then all it takes is one person on Nico’s side before their little ruse is broken.
“It’s too early for this,” Nico says, interrupting their bickering. He picks up his breakfast and trudges off to his actual table, ignoring Will’s pouting. He has to brush the dust off the bench, but it’s worth it to avoid whatever headache the three of them will inevitably give him.
Coffee cake, save him.
———
“It’s not looking good, Katara —”
“I actually like that one.”
“— he’s totally onto us.”
“Just stick to the plan. Power onto Phase Four.”
———
To Nico's great satisfaction, many other people do double takes as they walk into breakfast.
As the Athena table, minus Annabeth, who is likely putting out a literal or metaphorical fire somewhere, wakes up, they start to notice the strange seating situation. It starts with Malcolm, who stares at Cecil in a lab coat with the same expression Nico has seen him wear when attempting to solve the Hodge conjecture. He leans over to murmur something in his brother’s ear, and then all seven of them are looking between the Hecate, Apollo, and mostly-empty Hermes tables with suspicious frowns and furrowed brows.
Nico catches Will’s eye, smirking.
Game’s up, he mouths. Will only shrugs innocently at him.
It’s Annabeth who finally puts a stop to the nonsense, striding in at the tail end of the rest of the slowly-waking crowd. She has grass in her hair and murder in her eyes.
Excellent.
“I swear to the gods, I just dealt with you three,” she snaps, raising her voice so they all can hear her. Coincidentally, it attracts the attention of every other nosy person at camp, which is everybody. “Just ‘cause Chiron’s not here doesn’t mean the rules go out the window. Back to your tables, let’s move.”
“We’re at our tables,” Cecil protests. “Why do people keep saying that?”
Annabeth takes a very deep, very long breath. She has a whole day of this, too. How unfortunate for her.
“Maybe because you are full of shit, Markowitz. Go sit with the rest of you troublemakers.”
Kayla clears her throat. “Annabeth, I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Her thin eyebrows are drawn tightly together, lips turned down into a frown. “Cecil is exactly where he’s supposed to be.”
That gives her pause.
That gives a lot of people pause. Nico sets down his coffee cake.
“Cecil’s at the Apollo table,” Annabeth says slowly.
Kayla meets her gaze, face creased in concern. “...Yeah, I know.”
“Cecil is a Hermes kid, Kayla.”
She snorts. “Yeah, sometimes I think so, too. But as much as I would absolutely love to trade my brother —”
“Hey!”
“He’s a healer, Annabeth. He got claimed and everything.”
“I don’t have time for this,” Annabeth says, dragging her hand down her face. “Kayla, I don’t know what they paid you —”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake.” With a clatter of plates, Will clambers on the table, clapping his hands. “Your attention please, everyone!”
Without so much as a pause, Will claps his hands together. Immediately, a ball of green light expands from them, flashing almost too bright to look at. Nico watches, slack jawed, as he tosses it into the air, making it explode into a thousand little sparkles, descending gently over everyone’s heads. The little kids laugh in delight, reaching for them like they’re bubbles.
“Does that settle things?” he demands.
Silence rings for one, two, three seconds.
The camp erupts.
Dozens of voices overlap, all shouting over each other at once. Hands gesture wildly at Will, at Cecil, at Lou — trying to piece things together. Will is their head medic — isn’t he? Then why is Cecil wearing scrubs? And why is Lou chilling at the Hermes’ table, chatting with Julia over a bowl of cereal? Something isn’t right.
“Just — everybody quiet!”
It takes a minute, but everyone settles down, sitting back in their seats and fidgeting, looking around with half-confused, half-amused smiles. Like they’re laughing at a joke they’re half convinced is real.
“Who thinks this —” Annabeth makes some vaguely indicative movement at Will, Lou, and Cecil — “is weird? Raise your hand.”
Almost all hands go up. Only a handful stay down — Will, Lou Ellen, and Cecil, of course, but the entirety of the Hermes cabin stays oddly silent, as do Kayla, Austin, Reika, and, shockingly, Clovis.
“Stoll,” Nico demands before Annabeth gets the chance, “you’re buying this?”
“Buying what?” Connor says after a moment. He shrugs, eyes twinkling in amusement. “I’m just chillin’ with my sister, Nico. Cecil is great, but he hasn’t been in our cabin since he got claimed.”
The rest of the Hermes kids nod in agreement. Whispers filter through the tables — first Kayla, now all the Hermes kids?
“If I may,” interjects Clovis, yawning. “There’s an…energy, around.”
“Gods, yeah, I was feeling it too,” Will agrees frantically. “Almost a…blanket, of some kind. Something heavy and stifling.”
Malcolm looks over with interest. “You think we got cursed, or something? The whole camp?”
Will shrugs. “Maybe? Can’t think of any other reason you guys are remembering things weird.”
“It could be a god’s interference,” Nyssa suggests, raising her voice to be heard from the Hephaestus table. “I mean, that’s what happened to Jason and Leo and Piper, right? Their memories got fudged.”
“Yeah, but camp-wide…”
“Could still be possible.”
“There’s no way! They’re fucking with us, come on —”
It doesn’t take long for the arguing to start up again. This time, though, more people looked spooked — more people look to the dumbass trio themselves, eyes wide like they’re looking at ghosts.
Like they’re believing this shit.
Nico scowls, shoving away from his table and stomping over to his boyfriend.
“You are so full of shit I can smell you from across the room,” he says, raising his voice to be heard over the noise.
“I don’t know what you want me to say.” He wiggles his fingers in Nico’s direction. They spark with the same green light. “Want me to switch your eyes and ears again?”
That sounds horrifying. “Try it and die.”
“Alright, grouchy.” He holds his hands up, stepping back from Nico’s glare. “I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
Alarm bells go off in Nico’s head. This is more than just strange, it’s wrong. And not just ‘cause he looks different — so what if he looks different. Will could shave his head bald and tattoo himself purple, Nico wouldn’t care.
But his aura.
The essence of Will, that Nico has grown so used to be stopped noticing. The quiet, warmth strength, the feeling of a soft breeze in the summer, of walking past a window in the late afternoon, of smokey August campfires and scratchy guitar, is gone. Is different, rather; almost blocked. It feels like a cloud blowing over the sun, making everything warped and off and shadowy.
Something is afoot. Something is wrong, and not just some vague, made-up spell like the Trickster Trio would have the camp believe. Something like smoke and mirrors, something shadier.
He watches Will fall into step next to Cecil, ducking away from his ruffling hand. He frowns.
If there’s one thing Nico can do, it’s wade through the shadows.
———
next
182 notes · View notes
sjyluv · 2 days
Text
in another life, i would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you
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genres! fluff?, angst, celebrity x celebrity, ex-lovers
word count! 1380
warnings! mention of breakup, heartbreak
synopsis! in another life, you and park sunghoon are lovers, just not in this one
mimi’s note! this fic was inspired by a quote from the movie ‘everything everywhere all at once’ also I'm not very good at writing angst because I hate it but I did my best
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“Congrats, big shot,” a familiar voice says from behind you, and you can hear the teasing smile in his tone, “actress of the year award, you're in the big leagues now.”
You turn around to face Park Sunghoon, a renowned figure skater and your ex-boyfriend. You haven't seen each other in almost a year but the sight of him still has the same effect on you it did all those years ago.
He's hauntingly beautiful and you're a house of horrors.
You offer a polite smile, but it's bittersweet as if you were greeting death itself.
“Congratulations to you too, you're becoming a bit of an A-list yourself since you won the Olympics.” you quip, and you both know what kind of game you're going to play tonight.
It’s the same one you always play, the one where he pretends you didn’t break his heart and you pretend everything is fine.
Sunghoon smiles at you too, like you're everything he's ever had and everything he's ever lost.
“Maybe we should exchange autographs like middle schoolers trade Pokémon cards,” he says, and you both chuckle.
“Hmm, I have a feeling mines will be more valuable.”
He playfully puts a hand over his heart. “That’s hurtful, y/n, but I can’t deny that it’s also true.”
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The gala was still roaring with life when you stepped out for some fresh air, you sat on concrete stairs, not caring if you got your 20,000-dollar dress dirty. You couldn't care about a lot of things lately.
You and Sunghoon had long parted ways, the conversation only lasted about five minutes before you were seated at your respective tables, you didn't see him again after that.
You’ve gotten everything you ever dreamed of at this point in your career, and you accomplished all your goals, in the beginning, it all seemed so impossible, but now that you're here and you've done it, you’re not so sure what's left anymore.
The sound of the door opening catches your attention, a tall, pale figure steps out, dressed in a purely black suit, and you recognize him instantly.
“Following me?” you prop your chin in your palm as your elbow rests on your knee, carrying the weight of your head as you tilt it playfully.
He’s not startled by the suddenness of your voice, which tells you, yes, he was looking for you.
He smiled. “Maybe.”
He sat next to you on the stairs, not caring if his 5,000-dollar suit got dirty, though it wasn't actually because he didn't care about the suit, but because he just wanted to be close to you.
You're both silent for a while, simply appreciating being in each other's presence after so long.
Or maybe it's because you don't know what to say and he has too much to say, so you settle for the piercing silence of unsaid words.
Sunghoon has been silent his whole life, but he promised himself tonight he wouldn't be.
“Was it worth it?”
Ah. There it is.
You think as the corners of your lips curl upward, you knew this question was coming, you sensed it the moment you saw him again.
If he had asked you that a year ago you would’ve said yes, no hesitation, no second thoughts, just a straight-up yes, and you would have meant it too.
Suddenly the silk fabric of your dress starts to itch your skin, your diamond embroidered heels start to hurt your feet, and your pearl jewelry feels too heavy.
In only a single minute, Park Sunghoon has stripped you of your persona, called you out for the fraud you are, and seen the real you.
And he accepted you.
You lie to save your pride, it's a habit of yours that he knows all too well.
He doesn't think you're perfect, but you would never have to be for him to love you.
“Sometimes,” you say.
You don't bother lying, he’ll know.
You had always been a good liar until Sunghoon came into your life.
He gently nods in understanding at your response, “Do you ever think about it? About us?”
With a chuckle, you reply, “Of course I do.”
It's true that sometimes leaving him is worth the life you're living now, but there are fragments of times when you imagine what your life could've been with him.
In another life, you never left Sunghoon, you got married, bought a home together, adopted a dog, and had a child.
On the surface that sounds nice, but in another life, you are a housewife with broken dreams, you bought a home together but it wasn't the one you always dreamed of because you had to compromise with Sunghoon, you adopted a dog but you were never really an animal person, and you had a child but motherhood was never for you.
In another life, you are happy to be a housewife, you and Sunghoon bought your dream home together, you adopted a dog that you both love, you had a child and you are the most loving mother.
In another life, you are not a housewife, you and Sunghoon bought a home even better than your dream home, you adopted a dog but you're more of a cat person, and you never had a child but you always wanted to be a mother.
In another life, you and Sunghoon work from home, you bought a decent home together, and although it's not your dream one, it's good enough, you adopted a cat, and you never had a child but because that's the way you liked things.
In another life, you and Sunghoon are divorced, the home you bought together is just walls and a roof with painful memories, you don't adopt any pets, and you never had a child.
In another life, Sunghoon is a househusband, you don't care about having a dream home because any place is home with him, you adopted a dog and a cat, and you had a child who has everything they could ever want.
In another life, you and Sunghoon are teenagers again falling in love for the very first time, and you have no idea what the future holds for you.
In another life, you and Sunghoon are just a little bit younger than you are now, in the kitchen of your shared apartment, and you are trying to figure out how to do laundry so all your clothes don’t turn blue again and how to properly calculate your taxes so you don’t go to prison for tax fraud.
In another life, you and Sunghoon have grown old together, and you are experts at doing laundry and taxes.
In another life, you are the bottles of salt and pepper on the table of a random diner and things are entirely less complicated.
In another life, you never meet Park Sunghoon.
The possibilities are endless, and the truth is, you never know what will happen in your life, and that's scary, but you hope in another life you learn to accept the bad just as easily as you accept the good.
“What does it look like?” he asks.
“Laundry and taxes,” you shrug.
You both laugh at that.
“What about you?” you ask.
“Taxes and laundry,” he smiles.
You both laugh again.
The party inside is completely forgotten about as you and Sunghoon spend what feels like hours just sitting and talking, until the realization that it’s time to go home dawns on you.
Sunghoon gets up first, holding his hand out for you to take, and you do, but when he helps you to your feet he doesn't let go just yet, instead, he looks into your eyes and you feel his thumb caress your knuckles.
“It was nice to see you again, y/n.”
“It was good to see you again too, Sunghoon.”
He finally lets you go and you already miss his warmth.
He almost walks away but turns to face you one last time.
With a hint of a smile on his lips, he says, “You know, in another life, I would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.”
And then Park Sunghoon walks out of your life forever, and you let him.
In another life, things didn't end that way.
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© 2024 sjyluv, all rights reserved | do not repost, translate, or plagiarize
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erwinsvow · 2 days
Note
my heart swells at the thought of shy!reader kinda being overstimulated emotionally during rough sex with rafe and so she’s in doggy but reaches to hold his hand just to feel some affection from him☹️
this actually made me bark
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when you could keep your eyes open, you were staring at the wood of rafe's headboard, watching the way it was slamming against the wall and the repetitive thudding that filled your ears. if rafe wasn't fucking you so hard that you were close to losing your mind, you'd be worried someone in the house can hear the two of you.
your mind, always overactive even in times like this, wanders. first you allow yourself to get a little concerned someone can hear you, so you get quieter, shoving your head into rafe's pillow to muffle the moans leaving your mouth. then you worry someone can hear the headboard, the slap of skin on skin.
even when the pleasure is so overwhelming, building up tense and low in your stomach, entire body feeling like it's aflame when rafe grips your hips and slaps your ass in between thrusts, you still feel your mind wandering, slipping further and further away.
you want it to shut up, so you close your eyes, head resting on rafe's pillow again. you try to focus on your boyfriend's groans, the way the noises coming from him make your toes curl and a fuzzy feeling overtake your brain.
"yeah, fuck, kid, keep takin' it-"
he's saying something, and you stupidly wonder if he's been talking to you this whole time. you'd been too busy thinking about nothing to realize. you tune in, realizing what rafe's saying is a little bit of the opposite of what you usually hear from him.
you turn your head a little, opening your eyes to look back at rafe. he's still slamming in and out, his eyes focused on where the two of you are connected. rafe's always handsome, almost overwhelmingly so, but especially like this, when he's so focused on pleasure he's not as mindful of what he's saying.
"y'like that, huh? yeah, you wanna watch? like the little slut you are?"
"oh-"
it comes out low and quiet, a little sound that lets him know you're paying attention. if possible, his grip on your hips gets harder, fingers digging into the plush of your ass while he pushes down on your arch, increasing his pace. it's too fast now, too full and the stretch too much. you squeal into the pillow, eyes getting crossed while rafe's words ring around your head.
"fuck, good girl. my good little whore, aren't you?"
"um-" he keeps going, and you don't want him to stop. you try to shift around but he's holding you so hard moving feels impossible, so you settle for what you can move, lifting your arm to rest on your back, hand reaching out for him. "rafe, hand, please-"
you can't see his face, but you feel the weight of his hand on yours, before he pulls out and flips you over. you fall onto your back with a quiet yelp.
"you okay?" he asks, hovering over you. you feel empty, feel your pussy clench around nothing. then you feel bad—you hadn't meant to make him stop.
"s-sorry, rafe, i didn't mean stop, i just wanted to feel close to you-"
"was inside you. what'd you mean closer? you okay?" he repeats, and you feel your face flush, everything going warm.
"yes, yes. i'm fine."
"you sure?" you nod, looking up at your boyfriend. he moves your legs while you lay back, lifting them with his arms and lining himself up. and then he puts his palm flat on yours, fingers interlacing while he pushes inside. he fucks you like that—both your hands holding his, slowly and somehow still rougher than before, and even after both of you finish, he doesn't let go. you fall asleep with fingers intertwined with his.
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Feelings (5)
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Hi guys!
New chapter for this Serie, I hope you'll like it too :) Don't be shy about telling what you think about it, or asking if you want to have something special in it. I had a request from here for this one, so I hope it will be ok like this :)
Please enjoy ♥
TW : Suggestive, sex talk (?)
PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4
Saying goodbye to Alessia was hard, but you didn’t have the choice. You knew since the start of all this that it would happen, but that doesn’t mean it was making things easier.
You find your apartment like you left it, your friend Sofia came several times to ventilate it and take care of your olive tree. That you renamed Olivio, with all the imagination that is yours. The only thing that changed, is that there is no Alma laying on your couch like she was used to do when you were away. You always hided your keys under your doormat for her to come, but you asked Sofia to take it away for now. You still have things belonging to Alma in here though.
You send them to her by the post before going to your first training session. Your Spanish teammates look at you with friendly compassion when your arrived and you realize that you almost forgot that you lost a finale several days before. Alessia made you forget.
You find your habits really quickly, even if Laia Codina or Jenni are not part of the team anymore. But Ona being one to replace them, you’re pretty sure that Lucy isn’t too mad. You still have to talk to her about Alessia though, you knew that she went on holidays with Ona and didn’t want to bother her. And you teased her so much about Ona that you’re sure she won’t miss to tease you back for now.
Cata Coll is one of your closest friends here and it’s with her that you appear for the first time back on Fc Barcelona Feminin’s Instagram. The training was lighter the first days, but you soon go back to the real session.
“So. You and Less?” asks Lucy one afternoon where you are at her flat after the training.
“Yes?” you answer innocently.
You were playing against each other at Fifa on Playstation, Lucy’s actually crushing you with Manchester City. You’re still trying to figure how she can be good at everything.
“How did you get together?”
“What tell you that we are together?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh I don’t know. Maybe because you were making out in the plane when I came back to ask if I can borrow your earphones?”
Sitting on the other couch while scrolling on her phone, Ona can’t help but snort. You don’t mind her being here while you’re talking about your love life. You like her and she’s your mate’s girlfriend. You better get along and for now it’s working great. You smile too, to be fair, even if you blush lightly.
“We didn’t put a label on it, so I don’t know if I can call her my girlfriend” you answer, frowning softly.
It was the truth, even if you both said that you won’t go for someone else. You really hope that no one will catch Alessia’s eyes at Arsenal or even London. She’s starting again in a new environment; she doesn’t know everyone for now. You trust her obviously, but that doesn’t mean that she can’t lose interest in you.
“We did that at first too” Lucy answers. “Long-distance was hard, but really worth it if you’re meant to be.”
You hum, missing the complicit smile between Ona and Lucy. You sigh when Lucy scores another goal just before the end of the game. With a disgusted air, you let the controller fall on the couch.
“I’ve never been in a long-distance relationship before. It’s strange, to be honest, not being able to take the girl you like on date or something.”
“It is” Lucy smiles, patting your knee softly. “If you need advice or only talking, you can come to me. Or Mariona, she’s dealing with it for longer that I was.”
You nod. You somehow forgot that Mariona is dating Alessia’s teammate. Maybe you can take planes together sometimes, you think with irony.
“And Alma?” Lucy asks.
“Never heard from her again. I send her the things she left in my apartment and that’s all.”
********
You took the habits to call Alessia every night. She’s usually cooking her diner and put her phone against one of her kitchen walls to be able to cook while talking to you. You can really look at her for hours doing it. You only regret not being able to stick against her while she cuts some vegetables.
“What do you like to eat?” Alessia asks you that night.
You were silently observing her, lost in your contemplation.
“Oh uh… It depends” you shrug. “I’m not really difficult, I mean I think?”
Alessia laughs softly.
“I cooked for Leah two days ago, it was entertaining” the blonde says.
You smirk, knowing exactly what it could have been. You never met anyone as picky as Leah when it comes from food. You can guess her choice when you go to restaurant with her, it’s always the simplest dish.
“Why do you ask anyway?” you ask Alessia.
She looks genuinely surprise by your question, stopping to cut her carrots to look at you better.
“Don’t you come next week to London?”
“Yes?”
“Well I want to cook for you, obviously. We chose to get delivered almost at every meal we share when we stayed at home, but I really want to cook for you.”
“Ok” you smile softy. “Only if you let me take you on a proper date.”
“Is that even a deal?” Alessia smiles at you.
You feel your heart beating faster and God, how did you survive when she smiled at you that way in front of you?
Several days later, you were leaving training in hurry. You have two hours to go to the airport after your session and you came with your suitcase to go for it straight after your shower.
“Why are you in such hurry?” Jana asks from her cubby.
“She’s going to her girlfrieeeend” Cata sings from her spot.
“Girlfriend?”
Keira’s voice came from the other side of the room, and you flinch. Right, you didn’t talk to Keira about your new relationship. For your defense, you were thinking that Leah would. You grimace to Cata, grabs your suitcase and go for the exit.
“Say Alessia I say hi” Lucy shouts before getting hit by Ona on her arm.
“Alessia?”
You giggle when you hear the surprise in Keira’s voice but don’t take the time to answer, too scared to miss your plane. You jump in the taxi waiting for you and went for the airport.
It’s only when your luggage are taking care by the company that you take your phone off of your pocket. You wanted at first to write to Alessia to let her know that you were on your way, but you have some messages from Keira too.
Keira 🥠 Alessia??? Like in Alessia Russo? You better answer me right now, Kid.
You Who’s Alessia Russo?
Keira 🥠 You little shit. Bring back some Scones.
During the two hours and twenty-one minutes of the trip, you slept. You went to bed late this week, not being able to hang up with Alessia, even if you knew that you would see her today.
You are alert when you arrive in London, by dint of traveling from this airport, you know it by heart. There is an hour of time difference with Spain, so you feel like you have only left Spain for an hour and a half. The sandwich you snacked while waiting for your suitcase will allow you to wait until you arrive at Alessia’s, who promised to cook for you tonight. You know that you have at least one hour to go to Alessia’s house, London traffic jam being awful.
You were taping on your phone for an Uber when a voice next to you make you jump out of your skin.
“Hi stranger!”
You jump, turning around only to be face with the mischievous face of your gi… Alessia. She was supposed to be at London, not at the airport. You might look stupid when you look at her with wide eyes and your mouth slightly open. It made Alessia giggles, and you feel your stomach make a jump at the sound.
“Lessi? What are you doing here?”
“Oh, I have a great visitor coming to mine this weekend, so I decided to come to take her home.”
“No, I mean…”
“I know what you mean” Alessia laughs before kissing your cheek. “I changed my media hours with Kyra to be here at the right time.”
“Oh.”
You blush and let Alessia takes your suitcase. You then follow her to the parking lot, slaloming between people. You want to take Alessia’s hand in yours, but you don’t want to make her uneasy. There are a lot of people here.
You are happy to be sitting on the passenger’s seat of her car, who is definitely more comfortable than your seat on the plane. You can’t stop to look at her and just because she’s just next to you right now, you softly stroke her cheek before taking her hand in yours.
“I missed you” you mumble when she looks at you.
She is driving and you should have taken the opportunity to kiss her before you left the parking, but you maybe will have plenty of time to do it at her home.
“I missed you too” Alessia smiles.
She asks about your trip; you ask her about her day and finally the journey for her house isn’t so long. Even if there are a lot of people on the road at this time of the day.
“Leah wants to meet you during your stay” Alessia said at one time during the trip. “I told her not today because you will be tired, but maybe tomorrow morning? She can come to have a brunch or something before the game?”
“It sounds nice” you smile, not mentioning that only seeing her is enough for you.
Alessia had a game tomorrow afternoon, but it let you all tonight, all day after the game and all the next day too. You will leave on Monday morning very early to be at training in the morning. And you are determined to enjoy it the most possible.
You are happy to find Alessia’s house too, looking around you, you notice that some things as changed since you came the last time. She added some decorations. Alessia showed you during one of your FaceTime, but it’s different like this. You just have the time to look at the picture she took in Australia during the World Cup, before you feel her arms around you.
“I didn’t have my hello kiss.”
You smile, putting your hand on her arms.
“That’s a shame. It needs to be fixed.”
“It does.”
You turn around in her arms, passing both of yours around her neck. You take the time to look at her properly, her eyes, her freckles, and her smile, before leaning in to kiss her. You can’t explain how much you missed that feeling. Alessia sighs against you and you get even closer to her, melting in her embrace.
“That’s better” Alessia smiles after the kiss.
She then kisses your nose, your forehead, both of your cheeks and finish on your lips again.
“Are you tired? Do you want to take a nap while I’m cooking?”
“Like I’m going to sleep instead of being with you.” you snort.
Alessia rolls her eyes but takes you by your hand anyway. She made you sit on a stool at the central island of her kitchen with a mug of tea. You listen to her, Alessia making almost all the conversation, but it’s always like this between you. You love to hear her talking, trying to remember every little thing she says to you.
Your eyes are going sometimes on her bum, you have to admit. But if she notices, she doesn’t say anything. You proposed to help her two times, but she refused, saying that you can help tomorrow. You will.
Her lasagna is amazing.
“It’s my Nona’s recipe” Alessia smiles when you compliment her.
You made the dishes for her, ignoring her protests, and end up cuddle with her on her couch in front of some film she chooses. But you don’t even try to look at it, you are way more interested about your girlfriend than Blake Lively fighting for her life. You try hard not to bother her too much, but you can’t stop yourself from kissing her cheek, her hair or playing with her fingers.
But Alessia doesn’t seem to mind, actually she has a small smile on her face every time you look at her.
“I missed your smell” Alessia mumbles after another kiss.
You smile, because you said yourself the same things a lot of time during the time you were at Barcelona. And you promised yourself that you will take one of her hoodies when you will leave.
You stroke the skin of her neck with your nose before kissing it several times. But then she softly bites your ear, and you feel your body being swept by electric currents. The sensations are hard to ignore.
They are so hard to ignore that you found yourself with your girlfriend, both naked, some hours later, laying in her bed. Alessia is laying on her back while you are on her belly. One of her hands is playing with your hair and you are trying hard not to fall asleep already.
“Can I ask you something?” Alessia whispers “But you have to promise not to mock me.”
“Of course you can Sweetheart. I won’t make fun of you, promise.”
You turn your head on her to have a better look at her and even if the light of her bedside lamp isn’t strong, you can see that she had blush. You watch her bite her lip and fight the want to bite at it, too. You need to stay focused; you are curious about what is in her mind.
“So… As you know, you are my first girl experiment” she begins waiting for you to hum before talking again. “Well to know how to do things right, I made some research and…”
“You made research?” you ask with a smile.
But Alessia frowns, slapping you softly on your arm.
“Babe, you promised!”
“I’m not making fun of you” you swear, still smiling. “I find it cute.”
Alessia groans and you giggle softly, moving a little on her to be able to kiss her cheek. She’s hot under your lips, attesting of your girlfriend’s blush. She smiles though and clear her throat nervously before talking again.
“So, like I was saying, I made some research and I saw that there is a lot of things to use when two women are, you know, having sex?”
“Yes?” you only say, not wanting to interrupt her again.
“It made me wonder if maybe you like to use them? And if what we’re making is annoying for you. And then I thought that maybe I should buy some of them, but I didn’t know which one you like, or you want?”
She stops talking, a little out of breath. She talked quickly though and that might explain that. She seems nervous so you take her hand in yours to try to sooth her a little bit.
“Ok, first, what kind of things did you see?”
Alessia blushes violently and you can’t help but smile again.
“Alessia Russo, did you watch porn?” you laugh.
“No!” she shouts, sitting up in the bed. “I went to website selling toys, I didn’t watch adult’s movies.”
You roll your eyes, asking yourself how a girl you just have sex with can be so shy about something like that. But that’s the innocent part of Alessia talking maybe. And you love it as much as you love every other part of her. You sat too when she sat up and you take support on her knees to lean on her and kiss her.
“Ok first of all, what we are doing is absolutely perfect to me. It’s special because it’s you and I love every second of it, every time even more.”
You are close to admit how much she affects you, but it’s not exactly admitting that you are in love with her for years. You want to reassure her anyway; you had your first time with someone before and you don’t want Alessia to feel insecure. Or worst, not enough.
It seems to work because she is smiling again, and you can’t resist to the want to kiss her again.
“But if you want to try some things together, we can do it too. Or if you miss something –“
“No” she cuts you, shaking her head. “I don’t miss anything I swear.”
She’s blushing again but you feel like she’s telling you the truth. When she talks again, she’s mumbling, looking at her fingers.
“It’s just that I never felt that way before and I want you to feel as good as I am.”
You could literally melt right now. You take a big breath, drawing her attention on you again.
“Lessi, you have no idea how good you make me feel. Really.”
She seems skeptical though, looking at you attentively. That girl will be the death of you.
“But I’m not experimented like the other girls you slept with” she points, frowning. “How can it be as good as you say?”
“I told you. Because it’s you.”
She looks at you for several seconds before smiling shyly, and you are smiling back. You are touched that she had this process and how much your well-being count for her. You sometimes struggle to realize that after all those years you are Alessia Russo’s… things. You really had to talk about it at some point, but the talk you’re having tonight is maybe enough for now.
“Do you want to buy some things though?” Alessia asks. “You didn’t answer about you having anything, but I don’t really want to use something you already… Well, you know.”
“I understand” you smile softly. “We’ll look together, ok?”
Laying down on the bed again, you take her in your arms this time, kissing her softly. She seems to be relaxed now and you let yourself go against Alessia’s mattress. You love sleeping here. Everything smells Alessia.
“By the way, please don’t tell Leah what we’ve done tonight. We’re not supposed to do something physically tiring the night before games.” Alessia smirks several minutes after, making you laugh.
********
You need a little bit of conviction to get up from the bed and your girlfriend embrace the day after. You are still a bit tired and it’s only the idea of Leah coming to find you both in bed because you are late that makes you get up.
“You are late” Leah grumble when you arrive with Alessia.
“Sorry, sleepyhead here had trouble getting up” Alessia smirks.
“I’m on the Spanish schedule, it’s not my fault” you yawn.
Leah don’t have time to grumble one more time, because the waitress came soon after to give you the menu to chose what to eat. You study it with seriousness, your stomach feeling a little bit empty.
“The usual Less?” the waitress asks to Alessia.
You frown, looking at your girlfriend who nod and give her menu back. Leah passes her command after her and you have to fight the strange feeling you have to ask what you want too. Leah seems to have forget about your delay when the waitress left, but you still have that mix of jealousy and discomfort. Alessia never hide what she does during her day, and she told you several time that she went to brunch or eat breakfast with some of her teammates, but you never imagined that there will be a pretty brunette who seems to know your girlfriend’s order by heart.
“I’m talking to you, Sleepy” Leah says, kicking you under the table.
“Wow, way to hurt your opponent?” you grumble while Leah rolls her eyes. “What was it again?”
“Keira. She asks me to remember to bring her Scones.”
“Oh” you smirk softly, remembering what happened in the locker room yesterday. “She told you that she knows about Alessia and I?”
You explain to Alessia yesterday what happened, and she’s smiling too. She didn’t look sad or hurt that you kind of forgot to talk about it to Keira.
“She told me she discovered because your teammates can’t keep their mouths shut” Leah smirk.
“It was Lucy to be fair.”
Leah rolls her eyes one more time while Alessia laughs, but your smile is quickly faded when the waitress is back. She once again turns in Alessia’s direction with a big smile at first, before giving Leah’s plate then yours. You don’t like the way she looks at your girlfriend or even how she smiles at her.
Your eyebrows are still frown when you look at your plate and suddenly the bacon in it doesn’t seems as yummy as it should. Being already concerned by your changing mood, Alessia discreetly take your hand in hers while Leah is concentrated in her plate.
“What’s up?” Alessia whispers.
“Nothing” you say, forcing a smile.
But that doesn’t work. Alessia frowns, looking deeply into your eyes.
“Communication, remember?”
You sigh softly. She’s right, you promised each other to always talk to the other is something is wrong. But you don’t want to do it here.
“Later, ok?”
Alessia nods, but she doesn’t let go of your hand and relax only when you start to eat. The food is delicious to be honest and you understand why Alessia keep coming here. You don’t know what you will say to her about your feelings, you feel bad at the idea of depriving her from this menu.
When you’re finish, you went right to the stadium. You follow Leah in the parking lot and then follow Alessia who introduces you to the different places and people who punctuate her training sessions. You meet almost all of her teammates too, even if you know some of them already. Like Laia Codina, who you know because she was at Barcelona and that you are happy to see again or Beth Mead with who you play for England.
You already know Lia or Jen because of Leah and you are kind of relax around the team. When they need to get training, Alessia goes with you to the friend and family section, holding your hand.
“So, what happened during the breakfast?” Alessia asks.
You sigh softly. You have forgotten that you were supposed to talk to your girlfriend about this. You look at her and she’s already looking at you, concern in her soft baby blue eyes.
“It’s nothing, it’s just… that girl from the Café? The waitress?” Alessia nods, so you continue. “She was looking at you like you are the most beautiful thing in the world and she’s right because you are, but it makes me realize that she can see you every morning if she wants to and I can’t. And that made me miss you, which is probably stupid because you were sitting right next to me, but…”
You shrug, not knowing how to end your sentence. But Alessia nods once again, seeming to understand what you were meaning. Which is already relieving at your eyes. She squeezes your hand softly before answering.
“It’s not stupid at all, I understand the feeling. I miss to have you next to me in the morning and falling asleep against you at night. I miss you almost every second of the day. But we chose to give us a chance and we knew what it would be. I’m sure it’s worth it.”
You feel your heart fluttered once again and you look around you to be sure that no one is near you, before taking her tight in your arms. She holds you as tight as you are doing, and it help you to feel better.
“I have nothing to worry about, right?” you whisper with your chin on her shoulder.
“Nothing.”
She backs her head to have a look at you and she’s smiling softly. You trust her, of course you do. She’s like the sweetest and the gentlest human being. And then she kisses you, not long but softly.
When Alessia left you in the family and friend section, you go to look for your seat, but you are soon spotted by Amanda, Leah’s mom. She waves at you and makes sign for you to come to her, which you do because no one can refuse anything to Leah’s mum.
“Hi darling!” she says happily when you are at her level. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“Oh, uh…” you mumble while she hugs you.
“Leah told me why you’re here, but don’t worry your secret is safe with me.”
She smiles at you, taping your cheek in a motherly way before making you sit next to her. You recognize next to her Leah’s nan, who you salute too. Amanda looks at your shirt, raising an eyebrow.
“Not wearing an Arsenal jersey?”
“Alexia would probably kill me if I do something like this” you laugh. “Maybe she would make an exception for Alessia’s, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”
“Why that? Everyone seems to think that Less and you are good friends.”
Amanda seems to know what happened in the social media, with the video of you going to recomfort Alessia after the finale in Australia. Everyone said how much you are a good friend, choosing to make your friend’s feelings better rather than being focused on yours.
“I’ll think about it for the next time” you promise.
“Great. In the meantime, wear this.”
Without letting you the time to look at what it exactly was, Amanda put one Arsenal scarf on your shoulders. Leah’s face is print on it, and if you don’t see at least one twitt or one TikTok editing you with your friend, it would be a miracle.
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The Man 3
Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen
Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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You think you remember. Or at least you’ve convinced yourself that you do.
You go through the painstaking steps as the dark presence looms across the counter. The man walks along, just on the other side of the machines as you steam the milk. Toffee nut, yes, you’re pretty sure that was it.
You put it all together, step by step, hands shaking. Your lips move as you talk yourself through your work silently. You can do this. You still feel how the man scratched you through your shirt when he grabbed you, your skin fiery.
You give one last look to the foam and send a prayer up to whatever deity will hear it. You slowly move to the till and place the cup down. You wet your lips and clear your throat.
“Almond, toffee nut, half blond, half regular, cinnamon on top,” you declare, voice quavering as you stare at the bristle across the man’s upper lip. “Mr. Hansen.”
He clucks and leans on the counter, hooking one foot behind the other. He wraps his hand around the cup and slides it closer to himself. He stares down into as you fidget. You glance around at the baked goods.
“And a cinnamon bun?” You suggest but before you can carry through on the offer, a splash of liquid washes over you, hot despite the layer of steamed milk.
“Oat milk,” he crushes the empty cup in his large hand and throws it at your face. You sputter and blink as the foam drips down your cheeks.
“Sorry, sir, I’ll make it again.”
“Fucking right, you will, sweet lips,” he growls and stands straight, crossing his arms.
You pull the bottom of your apron up and wipe your face. You bend to pick up the empty cup and turn away. Your eyes sting and you wiggle your tingling nose. It’s fine. You can do this.
Oat, half blond, half regular, toffee nut, cinnamon on top. The smell of espresso and syrup clings to you as you make the death march back to the till. You set the cup down without a word.
Mr. Hansen, Lloyd, the boss, whatever he is, considers you as he lifts the drink and examines the careful leafy art in the foam. He turns it and inhales the scent, some of the foam catching in his mustache. He takes a breath as if about to dive into water and has a taste. The tip of his tongue pokes out as he pulls the cup away from his mouth. He hums. Does he like it?
Splash.
Another searing dousing and you stand there with a gasp, shaking off the dredge of his displeasure.
“Mr. Hansen, I--”
“First thing’s first. Shut the fuck up. You talk too much,” he tosses the cup. Bonk, right off your forehead. “Second, I changed my mind. Get me a mocha. Extra whip.”
You nod and keep your head down. You pick up the cup and stand, nearly slipping in the puddle around your feet. You dispose of the empty cup and go to the coffee machine. You begin your new task, hands clumsy and trembling. You add the whipped cream and return to the till. You put the cup down and grab onto the counter to keep from sliding through the liquid at your soles.
He lifts it and you wince, bracing for another deluge. He repeats the same deliberate examination. You swallow tightly as he samples your work. This time he doesn’t make a noise. As he lowers the cup, you flinch and take a step back.
He cackles, “relax, cupcake.”
You stare at him grimly. You flick your lashes and blow out your nerves. You hide your shaking hands behind you.
“Now you know who the fuck I am,” he says, “clean yourself up and get back to work.”
He grabs a package of the cookies along the small shelf beside the till then turns on his heel and struts to the door. You watch after him, damp and dripping. As the door opens and closes, you turn to face the mess. You sigh and go to grab the mop; you can clean the floor but you can’t do much for yourself.
You work at soaking up the excess then spray cleaner on the floor and wipe with paper towel to prevent it from getting sticky. As you work at sopping up the errant droplets from the counter, the door behind you swings open. You glance over your shoulder as Bre sweeps through.
“Alright, your turn--” She stops short as you face her. “What happened?” Her face slackens with dread and shock, “what did you do?”
“It was Mr. Jansen—Hansen,” you correct yourself, “he came by and--”
“I told you not to talk to him,” she hisses.
“I... I didn’t have a choice. He wanted a drink and--”
“Fuck. Fuck! What did he say? What did he do?” She snaps.
You recoil at her accusatory tone, “he... he threw coffee in my face? He took some cookies? I don’t know? He just... said now I know who he is. I didn’t really understand--”
“You don’t. You don’t understand. You don’t get it.”
You frown and cross your arms, “I’m sorry, Bre, I did my best--”
“Not good enough. You think it’s all fun and games. It’s not. That man is dangerous. Not just here, everywhere,” she shakes her head, “you’ll see. Out there, on your own. Give me your apron.”
“What?” You murmur.
“Get out. I’ll call Maurice and let him know it didn’t work out.”
“What? No, you can’t--”
“I am. Give me your apron. Now.”
You pout and sniffle. You reach back behind you and unlace the apron and lift it over your head. You hold it out to her, “it’s wet--”
“Just go.”
You hang your head and turn away. Your eyes begin to stream before you even get through the door. You grab your stuff from the backroom and give one last look around. You got fired. What are you going to do?
You fold your jacket over your arm and sling your bag from your shoulder. You let yourself out into the alley and head down to the street. You stop at the end and cover your face, sniveling behind your hands as you lean on the brick. You don’t want to go back home. You only just got there.
“Whatsa matter, sweet lips?” The low drawl is followed by a loud slurp, “bad day?”
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sugar-grigri · 3 days
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analyze the ball kicking scene 🫶🏼 (out of joke, love your posts <3)
Yes, even kicking balls has symbolism in Chainsaw Man
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You're joking, Anon, but I wanted to do a post about it yesterday, and now you've given me the opportunity. Everything in this chapter is about the symbolism of kicking balls, yes, even the beginning!
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Haruka Iseumi flicks through several TV channels, rather blasély, until he comes across a woman whose speech seems to resonate with him, a woman who seems to feel betrayed, disoriented like these teenagers who have been put in danger by an institution that has never seen their good, the church. But this girl only talks about her disappointment following a scandal surrounding over-mediatized stars.
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What Haruka is going through right now is disillusionment, believing that his problems would have been taken seriously, his situation as an escaped high school terrorist, would have interested the public. But people prefer not to face up to these kinds of problems; an epidemic of people turned into demons is as commonplace as wars. To avoid jeopardizing personal comfort, people prefer to focus on other problems. Because people literally don't have the balls to face reality.
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But contrary to what Haruka thinks, he's not so different: he's also an angst-ridden child who had totally surrendered to his idol, Chainsaw Man, to the point of convincing himself that he was bound to him, even pretending to be him for a semblance of trust. What the chapter seems to show is that Haruka is more down to earth than that girl on TV, but what it really shows is that he's exactly like that girl, but no longer admits it to himself.
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No, Haruka, you're not dreaming, or rather you have been until now and now you can't do it anymore.
Because you've reached his idol, you have literally reassembled his image, you've seen the boy you have no interest in behind that reassuring mask.
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What this chapter is about is the illusion into which we accept to insert ourselves in order to better resist our fears and existential ills.
Denji doesn't have to exist to shatter the illusions he needs to survive; even his awakening and his speech are too much, as his image no longer matches the one he wears as a universal puppet. He's literally cuter when he's inanimate, because that's what he's made for. At least, that's the only way we accept him. He's made to fill your person, and it's impossible for Chainsaw Man to be a person in his own right.
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As proof of this, when Denji wakes up, his first reflex is not to discover that he's complete again, for he exists only to fill others, hence his question to Asa as to where her arm has gone. Unknowingly, Denji has accepted his role.
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For Katana Man and Yoru, Chainsaw Man is a goal, a dream to be achieved. Seeing the person behind it, the other half, disturbs them. Considering it might even make them reconsider their choices.
Katana Man has deluded himself into believing that Denji no longer has the heart of a man, that he was his grandfather's tormentor and not the child who was the victim. He needs this revenge to move forward, just as Yoru, as a war demon, needs to fight an unattainable adversary to continue wreaking havoc.
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But what's that got to do with it? What does this have to do with beating Denji's balls off?
Who kicked Katana Man in the balls? Aki and Denji. If Chainsaw Man is the metaphor for the comforting illusion of others, Aki is the symbol that revenge (often impossible) is a long-term, survival goal for hearts scarred by resentment. Beating the balls off? The meeting of the two.
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When Aki and Denji beat up Katana Man, the illusion of a proud, virile, traditional man who swore by his honor had been shattered. What Katana Man represented to himself and to the readers, this formidable adversary, had been dismantled.
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But above all, this was a gentle, more accessible form of revenge, one that would allow us to survive, a way for Aki to avenge Himeno in her own way, without actually avenging her. It's about beating your opponent while admitting you've lost in some way.
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Similarly, when Katana Man and Yoru defeat Denji, they lead to a renewed desire to dismantle Chainsaw Man's image. To bring it together as their long-term goal of revenge. But despite this balance of power, this gesture symbolically demonstrates that they are not certain of their victory.
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Above all, the important answer in this chapter is once again in the background.
Fami continues to eat undisturbed. She eats all the time, but in this chapter, she seemed almost to be regaining her strength.
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Why was that?
Her plan was clear, to make people fear Chainsaw Man as well as the war, to make Yoru and Chainsaw Man champions. But what about the media? They prefer to do what's most profitable, keeping viewers entertained for as long as possible, so that they forget about the real issues.
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People prefer to delude themselves, to dream dreams, rather than focus on reality, so will Chainsaw Man and Yoru have their strength increased to the point where they'll be potential opponents for death?
because people are already escaping the fear of death through entertainment, which is even the best champion.
Instead of thinking about our existential crises, we flood our brains with unimportant information.
As the philosopher Pascal would say: "Since men have not been able to cure death, misery and ignorance, they have decided, in order to make themselves happy, not to think about them. Notwithstanding these miseries, he wants to be happy, and only wants to be happy, and cannot not want to be happy".
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But let's close this loop of questions: if Chainsaw Man allows this comforting disillusionment, Denji is the opposite, something we refuse to see, if Chainsaw Man is a dream, Denji is reality. Let's get back to our main subject: beating up balls.
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When Aki first beat Denji up, he wanted to disgust him enough to prevent him from signing up as a public hunter. Literally, he preferred to spare Denji from reality, by killing the symbol that is Denji (did you miss the headaches I caused?). But when Denji retaliates, to insist that he wants to enlist, it's the other way around: it's the harshness of reality that Denji fully accepts that will prevail over Aki's attempt to protect him.
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When Katana Man and Yoru beat Denji's balls off, in reality they're trying to fight the reality of what Chainsaw Man is, this mixture between a boy, reality, and the bloodthirsty enemy, the dream, Chainsaw Man. Beating up Denji is an attempt to avoid the harshness of life. It's that illusion.
So when Denji helped Aki beat up Katana Man, he allowed him to escape his survival mechanisms, his revenge, his illusion, by enjoying the present moment, pure reality. But when Denji defeated Aki, it was also the announcement of the reality of Aki's fate, which would outweigh this illusion - the success of his revenge.
That's why Pochita, the dream and illusion, prevents Denji from opening the door. When Denji sees reality, he can't help opening it. Just as Makima concentrated on her Chainsaw Man dream without seeing reality, Denji right behind it. Just as the dream allows Denji to escape reality, the contract between Denji and Pochita has allowed Denji to become someone else, escaping from himself, himself a victim of the dream without being able to know exactly what he is.
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But don't forget, beating the balls off is Denji's tactic.
Why is that? Because no matter how hard you try to escape it, reality will always prevail.
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dragon-kazansky · 3 days
Text
Bridgerton shade of blue
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Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader
Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.
{Masterlist}
{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}
Season one
Chapter Nine - Late night scandals
♡♡♡
"What do you think Bridgerton?"
Benedict turns around to find the artist he had accidentally offended at the gallery the other night.
"This one more to your liking?"
"Mr. Granville--" Benedict raises from his chair to approach the man.
"Perhaps they should take it over to Somerset House so it can be skyed right next to mine."
"I believe I owe you an apology, sir." Benedict says, feeling rather embarrassed.
"Unnecessary. I actually quite enjoy the eloquent stings of your critique. So?" He gestures back to the painting on the wall.
"A touch morose for my tastes," Benedict says.
Henry points to the next one.
"A tragedy. The hound deserved better," Benedict comments.
Granville laughs. "Where is yours?"
"My..."
"Your work," Granville clarifies. "Are you tell me you're not an artist yourself?"
"Well, I-- I suppose sometimes I like to... Well, I mean, I almost--"
"I believe 'yes' and 'thank you' are the words you seek. But either way, you should come by my studio." Mr Granville holds out a small card to Benedict, who accepts it. "The pieces I do for myself are there, and I think you will find my real work far less, um... Oh, how did you put it? 'Cold and lacking inner life?'"
Benedict scrunched up his face as he nodded, still burning with embarrassment. "I shall never live that down, shall I?"
Mr Granville leaves.
Benedict returns to his table where he had been absentmindedly doodling. Eyes. He was sketching out a pair of eyes. Pretty ones. From memory.
He sighs and closes the sketchbook.
♡♡♡
As you sit in the drawing room of the Bridgerton house, as invited by Violet, you discover that she had no idea about the boxing match, or that Daphne had been there.
You keep your eyes focused on the latest Whistledown paper, though you had stopped reading it.
Daphne was playing the piano while her mother interrogated her.
"A boxing match is no place for any young lady." Violet sighs.
"Is it a place for a prince? Was he at today's match, sister?" Hyacinth asks.
"He certainly was."
"It is a loathsome and barbarous form of entertainment," Violet was very displeased.
That was when Daphne took the opportunity to mention you had gone as well, which had Violet looking at you.
"You too?"
You glare softly at Daphne, who gives you a smug little look. Crafty one, she is.
"Anthony invited me," you admit.
Violet looked terribly ill all of a sudden. You were sure she would being this up with her eldest son at some point.
"What about the duke?" Hyacinth asks.
"What about the duke?" Both Violet and Daphne ask at the same time. You eye Daphne curiously from your seat.
"Was he also present?" Hyacinth asked, less enthusiastic now.
"I do not know," Daphne says. "If the duke was there, I did not see him."
Hyacinth leaves the piano to go see what Eloise is up to. She had been scribbling away in her book since you arrived.
You put the Whistledown column down and rose from your seat to seek entertainment near the window. Watching the street was surely more entertainment than listening in on that conversation.
Anthony enters the room and greets both his mother and his sister. You turn and he greets you too.
"Did you truly take your sister to a boxing match?" Violet hounds him.
"Your admonishment will have to wait. I have news," he cuts her lecture short. "Prince Friedrich has asked for my permission to propose." He looks at Daphne.
She stops playing. "So soon?"
"Well, what did you tell him?" Violet asks.
"That I know better than to answer for my sister. I have no objections to the man. People speak well of him. Whatever you decide, Daph, you shall have my support."
You look at Daphne quietly.
"I... uh... I..." She doesn't know what to say.
"You need not decide now," Violet tells her. "You certainly have no known him long."
"Let me know when you have an answer, and I shall convey it." Anthony says to his sister.
"Indeed." Daphne looks at him.
Anthony leaves as quickly as he came in. It was clear Daphne needed time to think.
♡♡♡
When Daphne had pleaded with you to attend the next ball with her, you couldn't say no. There was a sadness to her gaze, and you wondered from where it had risen.
Something had happened between her and the duke, and she had been off kilter ever since.
The ball, like all had been so far, was wonderful. The theme was a little more out there this time, but everyone was behaving quite perfectly.
You were standing with Daphne as she scanned the crowd. Exactly who she was looking for, you weren't quite certain. You would suggest the prince on the account that the duke was apparently leaving London tonight.
The prince could be seen across the room. He was in conversation with someone. You glance toward Daphne, but your gaze shifts as Cressida Cowper comes over. You give Daphne a gentle nudge.
"Daphne." Cressida chuckles. "You look beautiful, as always."
"Thank you, Cressida," Daphne says politely.
"You could have chosen anyone," Cressida says. "You have gentlemen lined up to pay you tribute. Yet you did not hesitate to steal my chance for happiness away, did you? I knew the marriage market would make rivals of us, but I never thought youcapable of being my enemy."
"The man made his choice, Cressida. What did you expect me to do?" Daphne asks.
Daphne walks off in the direction of the prince. You look at Cressida and then walk off in the other direction.
There is nothing you could ever say to her.
You begin to walk alongside the dance floor, watching the couples dance. A hand comes into view, and you turn to see a friendly looking young man smiling at you.
"May I have this dance?"
You take a moment to gather yourself. You had hoped one of the Bridgerton boys would be here to dance with you, but you supposed you couldn't rely on them every time.
"You may."
You go with him to dance.
It seemed Benedict wasn't here.
♡♡♡
Benedict was, in fact, making his way to the studio of Mr. Granville. He was intrigued by the artist.
He finds the address and knocks on the door. Henry Granville answers.
"Mr. Bridgerton."
Benedict stands there a little awkwardly.
"Come in, come in."
Granville lets him in. Benedict enters and follows him. He is led further inside and finds himself in a large room. A circle of easels presented around two nude models.
"I do not know what I was expecting, but it surely was not this." Benedict says.
"Oh, simply a gathering of like-minded souls." Henry tells him. "Here, let me show you what I've been working on."
Benedict is led further inside the studio. He passes a couple of painters discussing war so causally.
"What do you think?" Henry asks.
Benedict walks over and takes a look at the canvas.
"Hmm. It's a far cry from Somerset House, I must say."
"I shall take that a compliment."
They both chuckle.
"And I must say, I'm truly jealous. Is this your life?" Benedict asks.
"There are advantages to being the second-born." Henry tells him. "Heirs have the responsibility. Second sons have the fun."
They both chuckle again.
"So... why not go have some fun?" Henry gestures to the models. He's giving Benedict the chance to epress himself through art.
Benedict picks an easel and sits down.
♡♡♡
As you dance once again tonight, you spot Anthony standing off to the side. He's staring at the opera singer.
You hard heard whispers about him being infatuated with an opera singer, but had no idea if there lay any truth to them.
You continue dancing with your partner.
Benedict was still a no-show tonight, which you found to be rather disappointing. You had been looking forward to another evening of his little quips and teasing.
When the dance ends, you curtsy to your partner and head in the direction of Anthony and Violet. Lady Bridgerton had tries to introduce her son to a rather pretty young lady, but he showed no interest.
"Shall we dance, Lord Bridgerton?" You ask, looking at Anthony.
He turns and looks at you, for half a second, thinking you were another lady his mother was intent on pushing on him.
"Yes, let's." He offers his arm, and you take it. Violet watches you both go. Even if he chose you, she would be pleased, but she knows her son will not take you as his wife. You're his friend who has come to rescue him from her for a while.
Violet downs a third glass of champagne.
"She is persistent," you say.
"Hm?"
"Your mother."
Anthony chuckles softly. "Yes. Quite."
"The opera singer..."
He looks at you.
"Nevermind. Its not my business."
Anthony's expression softens. "I was - am - found of her."
"Yes. I assumed as much."
Anthony sighs. "It's complicated.
You nod and say no more on the matter. Anthony spins you around elegantly.
"Is Benedict not here tonight?" You ask, twirling with him.
"Benedict? No." He gazes at you. "Why do you ask?"
"I just noticed his absence."
"Missing your dance partner?" He teases.
You chuckle. "Am I that obvious?"
He winks at you, and you shake your head with a smile. "I'm fond of you boys. I can't help it when I notice one of you is missing."
Anthony grins. "How lucky we are to have gained such a special friend such as you."
As Anthony gives you another turn around the floor, you spot Colin speaking with Penelope. You smile softly at the sight and then turn your attention back to the eldest brother.
At least you'll have one Bridgerton on your dance card tonight.
As the next dance begins, Anthony keeps your company longer. You're aware this may catch attention from others, especially Lady Whistledown should she be here, but none the less, you dance with him twice.
You soon see that Colin has left Penelope on the sidelines to dance with Miss Thompson, and you also find the prince talking to Daphne amidst their dance.
The dance ends, and you manage to catch sight of Daphne fleeing the ballroom.
Anthony bows, and you curtsy.
"Until next time." He nods his head at you. You smile and nod, taking your leave. You worry about Daphne and intend to go check on her, but you're stopped by another gentleman.
You sigh and realise you'll have to dance with him before you can flee again.
The dance feels like it drags on, and on, and on. You smile, you listen to your partner talk, but your mind is focused on Daphne. She did not look well when she fled.
When the dance ends, you spot Anthony leaving the ballroom. You waste no more time and follow him.
He heads outside. You follow.
"Anthony?"
He turns and looks at you. "Go back inside."
"What's the matter? What's happening?"
"Did you see him?" Anthony asks urgently.
"Who?"
"The duke."
"He is here?"
"He was, and now I can't find Daphne." You realise he's concerned about his sister.
You hear something further in the garden, and Anthony hurries off. You follow him, close on his heels.
What you find is not what you ever expected to see.
Simon and Daphne were not just kissing. His hands were all over her. Her dress had been pulled down. You cover your mouth, though you can not hide the gasp that escapes you.
Anthony runs at Simon.
"Bastard!"
Simon receives a strong punch to the face. He falls to the ground, and Anthony takes another swing. He punches him a third time and then stands beside his sister. You hurry to her other side and checks her over.
"Daphne..."
She is speechless. She has no words for you. They have been caught in a compromising position.
"You will marry her," Anthony declares.
"What?" Daphne looks at her brother.
"Immediately. We can only hope no one saw you take such liberties, and my sister is saved further mortification. You will marry her!"
Anthony is angry.
"Brother!"
"I cannot marry her," Simon says.
"You have defiled her innocence, and now you refuse her hand? I knew you were a rake, Hastings, I never thought you a villain."
"I cannot marry her," Simon states more firmly.
Daphne looks hurt.
"Then you leave me no choice. I must demand satisfaction."
"A duel? Anthony, you cannot--" Daphne begins.
"He dishonours you, sister." Anthony looks at her. "He dishonours you and me and the very Bridgerton name. I have misjudged you, indeed. You have duped us both, but I shall not see my sister pay for my own misdeeds. We will settle this as gentlemen."
"I understand," Simon agrees. "I shall see you at dawn."
"I do not understand," Daphne says softly. "You would rather die than marry me?"
You look at Simon quietly.
"I am truly sorry."
"We need to go, Daph. Before anyone should see us." Anthony says softly.
You reach out for her arm gently and pull her away, Anthony follows you both.
Daphne takes her brother's arm after he begs of you not to say a word about anything. You swear by it, looking him in the eye. Anthony thanks you.
You drift off from them as you enter the ballroom once again.
Anthony approaches Colin and tells him he is taking her home. He asks Colin to take care of their mother. You decide to step in and help. Anthony looks grateful.
Anthony and Daphne leave.
Colin looks at you, but you just smile softly at him and ask him to help you with Violet. He doesn't say anything about Daphne or Anthony.
Neither do you.
♡♡♡
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mindmelter · 2 days
Text
The Janitor: Fernandez's body
I work as a Janitor at a gym, but that's not my real job, I just use the job as a Janitor to get easier acess to the prime meat, and by prime meat, I mean hot muscular men. There's no better place to harvest them than at the gym's locker room.
It's been a while since I've found a perfect specimen like Fernandez. He's tall, broad-shouldered, and he has a nice package.
I've been watching Fernandez for a while now. He's always here, every day at the same time. I've studied his habits, his working out routine. I know when he showers, when he changes. And today, I've decided it would be the day I turn him into my next wearable bodysuit.
I watched him walk to the locker room, his body covered in sweat. I followed him and as soon as I entered, I saw him taking his clothes off, he was ready to take a shower. I smirked and quickly put a sign outside the door, written "Do not enter: Men's locker room closed for cleaning"
I took a small technological gun device out of my cart and pointed it at Fernandez. However, I soon realized that I had forgotten to reconfigure the device since the last time I used it. Before I could fix it, Fernandez noticed me.
"Hey, what the fuck are you doing?" He shouted, walking towards me, and before I could activate the device, he quickly punching me in the face, making the device fall off my hand. He continued kicking me and calling me names. But I managed to reach for the device and pulled the trigger, this time hitting him with an orange glowing ray, making the man fall to the floor and start to deflate the second he was hit.
I was a little angry at him for the bruises, so I stomped on his face and abs to empty him faster. As the process finished, I took a step back, admiring my handiwork. Fernandez's body has been reduced to a sleek, form-fitting bodysuit, his every curve and muscle preserved. I couldn't help but feel a surge of power and desire course through me as I reached out and touched the bodysuit, running my fingers over the defined abs pecs for the first time.
That's when I noticed a tiny orange slime crawling out of his mouth.
I smirked and grabbed the tiny goop between my fingers, if you looked closely you would see it moved very slowly like a slug. I usually flush them down the toilet, but I would need this one, so I put it on the floor as I knew it wouldn't go anywhere. I then grabbed the deflated skin from the floor and walked inside a shower stall — Just for precaution.
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After I took off my uniform, I grabbed the empty muscle husk by the head and admired his body, specially his big package that even without anything stuffing it inside it was still huge.
With a satisfied grin, I slip the bodysuit on, for last, when I put his head over mine, I looked in the mirror. But it didn't looked natural, I just wasn't as fit as Fernandez, I didn't had big muscles to fill his skin. Some parts looked too stretched like my belly and face, and my dick only stuffed half of his huge shaft.
But this could be fixed. I grabbed the device, changed the settings and shoot the ray at myself — This time a blue glowing ray fired from the device.
I felt a tingling sensation as I watched in the mirror my big belly starting to disappear and instead form abs and big pecs. The skin that was once stretched, now started to grow muscles to the sizes that they were originally. I was looking just like when Fernandez entered the showers.
I changed the settings of the gun one last time and pointed it at the tiny goop on the floor. Once I fired the blue ray at it, the goo started to grow and started to shape itself into a human body: My original body.
It looked exactly like me. And it just kept standing there, looking at me with a blank face.
"Put on the janitor's uniform and clean the locker room, then go home and stay inactive until the next day, when you will return to work." I commanded.
"Yes Master" My copy responded with a blank face expression, it was actually the essence of the real Fernandez, only now he was turned into a mindless slave goo that could take any form that I wanted. He would cover as me while I was out having fun in Fernandez's body.
"But before, I want you to turn into a red underwear"
"Yes Master" The 'janitor' said and started to shrink and change its color, until it was nothing more than a red underwear on the floor. I grabbed it and put it on. It looked really good on me, so with Fernandez's phone I took a photo in the mirror.
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I decided to put his sweaty gym clothes back on and return to the main gym. It was really hot to work out my new muscles while wearing the real Fernandez.
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theminecraftbee · 1 day
Note
Just out of curiosity, do you know any alternative ways of showing types of relationships that could be used on ao3? I find the & and / method to be very constraining, especially with ambiguous or multi-dimensional relationships. & for platonic and / for romantic does not allow for a proper representation of nonstandard relationships, for example an enemy/loathing or polyamorous relationship. (Homestuck quadrants are their own thing and are not what I am asking for/about.)
answer that answers your question:
yes and no. if you just want another category of markers to exist, i know you said no homestuck quadrants, but those are probably most commonly used, although they're all synned to the / tag. i've seen some exchanges that want to differentiate use /& together, i've seen ? be used, and i've seen some invent their own tag (largely exchanges use these for matching purposes and it's rare but i HAVE seen it). however, there's no unifying convention, and ao3 will eventually syn all of these to either the / or & tag (usually the / unless the wranglers have a very good reason to think it's the & tbh). so know that even if you use your own symbol, it will show up in the relationship tag it ends up synned to.
one of the most common solutions to this is to use the symbol closest to what you want--personally i tend to just use the & unless there's fic content i think gen fans would really hate, since & is the tag that covers the much wider spectrum of relationships in my head, although some people will differ--and use freeform tags to disambiguate. for example, last days has the & tag for joe and cleo, along with a "queerplatonic relationships" tag! i believe "ambiguous relationships" is also a canonical tag, and you don't have to use canonicals if you can't find the one you like! the world is your oyster.
(here i'll also note: the & doesn't require them be like... friends. it just requires the fic be about their relationship in some way, and for this relationship to not be romantic or sexual. enemies is absolutely covered here, as is like, weird coworkers, or even tags like "hero & the public".)
(similarly, the / tag doesn't require they like each other, it just requires it to be a "ship"; enemies who have a ton of sexual tension goes under this, as do things like abusive romantic or sexual relationships; just make sure you're using your warnings and additional tags appropriately!)
the other most common solution is to tag both the / and & tag and use a tag like the "ambiguous relationships" or "this can be read as either" or "queerplatonic relationships" or whatever other disambiguating tag you think it needs. this is less common in the mcyt fandom because of the mcyt fandom's history of being SUPER WEIRD about shipping, but it's often the most common solution in fandoms that aren't this one.
"i want ao3 to have a ship tag that is neither & nor /, and is not considered synonymous with either" unfortunately this doesn't exist and isn't going to. like i'd love to say there's a way to make it exist but it Won't because of how ao3 was designed to work on a backend level and also ao3 does NOT change quickly, for better or for worse. you're going to have to pick between "make up a symbol and it will probably be synned to /", "use the tag you think you like best", or "use both". i wish there was another option too, if it helps, but the additional tags are really useful here!
"use no relationship tag" is also always an option; the relationship tag is not a required tag!
answer that answers your two examples, neither of which really fit the question as i understand it, hence me separating them out:
a fic about the relationship between two enemies is either the & tag if you just want the one that is actually meant to be used or the / tag if you mean for it to be like, the kind of enemies that have sexual tension. use additional tags to additionally disambiguate (example: just put in the tags the canonical tag "enemies" and you're good to go). the & tag is for ANY kind of platonic relationship, it does not require the two characters like each other, only that the fic is about their relationship! you can use the homestuck <3< if you REALLY wanna make it clear but that's synned to /, so like, up to you. if you're super worried someone will misunderstand the & tag you can also just not tag a relationship, relationships aren't mandatory tags.
i have no idea why you're asking about polyamory because that has a solution that's entirely unrelated to the problem you propose: you just tag the ship. ship tags with more than two names in them are legal tags, as long as it doesn't go over ao3's tag character limit you're good. if you do hit the limit, just use more than one tag! this is totally fine and follows ao3 conventions, don't worry. if it's the kind of polyamorous relationship with metamours, where not everyone is dating everyone, this is where more than one overlapping relationship tag REALLY helps. plus: you can mix / and & tags! not all of them will be canonical yet, but that's true of ANY ship tag you're originating! i have seen the form of "character/character & character" in many fandoms before, it's totally valid and will disambiguate! (also, the ensemble tags may help you here if you're doing like, a polyhermits thing; "hermitcraft ensemble/hermitcraft ensemble" is a legal tag and i think what polyhermits is probably synned to.)
so yeah, hopefully this helps some! good luck out there!
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five-rivers · 2 days
Text
vacation in camazotz
@rgbyshipper101
.
“... keeps going like this, he’s going to end up dropping the house into another dimension again.”  Danny sighed heavily.  
“Well, that’s not really fair,” said Sam.  
“Huh?  What do you mean?” asked Danny, blinking blankly at her.  “That’s definitely a thing he did.”
“Yeah, but that wasn’t totally him.”
“He was pretty tangential, actually,” said Tucker.  “Unless there’s something you aren’t telling us?”
“I… haven’t I told you about the time he sent the house into a parallel dimension?”
“You didn’t exactly need to.  We were all there.”
“No,” said Danny.  “What are you guys talking about?”
“Yes, we were.  The whole town was there,” said Tucker.  
“You know,” prompted Sam.  “Vlad pawning the Ring of Rage off on Valerie, you pulling Fright Knight’s sword out of the ground, Pariah Dark.”
“Yeah, you’re more related to us winding up in the Ghost Zone than your dad is.”
“Ooohhhh, I get what’s going on.  You’re thinking of a completely different time.  The time I’m talking about is way back in sixth grade.”
Sam’s gamer cave (she did not call it that, but that’s what it was) went quiet enough that the faint hum of the computer screens could be heard.  
“Your dad sent you guys to another dimension when you were in sixth grade,” said Sam, spinning her chair around and pointing a painted fingernail at Danny.
“Yeah,” said Danny.
“Three years before your whole…”  She waved her hand at him.  “Thing.”
“Before you got zapped, she means,” said Tucker.
“Yeah.  So?”
“So,” said Sam, “why is that, even though you knew alternate dimensions were a thing and your dad could get you there, you didn’t believe in ghosts and were okay with walking into the portal?”
“Okay, but, look,” said Danny.  He put his controller to one side.  “That’s– That’s a false equivalency.”
“Spending time with Jazz, I see,” said Tucker.  He was now the only one still playing the game.  
“Shut up,” said Danny.  “I know stuff without Jazz telling me about it.  But just because one unbelievable thing is true, that doesn’t mean that all unbelievable things are true.  Besides, the dimension we wound up in was way different from the Ghost Zone.  Had nothing to do with ghosts at all.  Definitely not something you look at and then go, ah, yes, ghosts exist.”
“But you knew that other dimensions existed.  Even if there weren’t ghosts on the other side of the portal, you still could’ve realized that it could take you to another dimension.”
“But it didn’t do that.  It just half killed me.”
“By opening a portal to another dimension in you.”
“And?”
Sam glared at him.  “You’re just playing dumb at this point.”
“Neither of you are playing anything, and I think at this point we can just say that Danny’s dumb.”  Tucker’s computer let out a little jingle as his character completed a quest.  
“Hey!  Most of their stuff doesn’t work,” said Danny, exasperated.  
“But you were messing around with something that they had made work before.  Didn’t you think that could be dangerous?  Or have consequences?  Drop you in yet a different dimension?  Something?”
“They said it didn’t work.  I believed them.  And you guys kept hassling me about it.”
“Someone skipped out on the ‘don’t give in to peer pressure’ PSAs,” said Tucker, singsong.  
“You are not innocent here, Tucker!  We’ve all done dumb stuff.  Can we drop it?  I thought we were playing games today, not playing ‘gang up on Danny for stuff we all did.’”
“Fine,” said Sam.  She picked her controller back up.  Danny picked his up a second later. 
They continued playing the game.  
Then Sam dropped her controller again, this time in her lap.  “Okay, actually, this is going to bother the heck out of me if I don’t know.  How did your Dad drop the house in an alternate dimension?”
“And what was it like?” added Tucker.  He, of course, kept his eyes on the game.  
“What was it like…” said Danny, contemplative.  He made his character run around in circles.  “How to explain?”
“Start with how you got there,” said Sam.  “Go from there.”
“Okay.  Well.  It started off– It was pretty normal.  You know.”
“Uh, no,” said Tucker.  “Sending your house to another dimension is not normal.”
“Normal for them.  For my parents.”
“Define normal here.  Like, describe it,” said Tucker.  
“Working on the portal.”
Sam let out a slow, exasperated sigh.  “Really, Danny?”
“Well, it was that or weapons.  Do you think their weapons teleported us to another dimension?”
“They could’ve.  The bazooka does,” said Tucker.  
“Fair,” said Danny.  “But, like, they were working on the portal, but then they were going over some of the math - it was wrong, obviously - and they saw that there was, like, there was a, um.  There was an ‘interesting result.’  Supposedly, distance fell out of the equation if you had the right inputs.  Something like that.”
“Which means… what?” asked Sam.  
“They thought they could make a teleporter.”
“What!”  Tucker finally whirled away from his monitor.  “They have a teleporter?  They made a teleporter?”
“No.  That’s the whole point.  No teleporter.  They messed it up.  But, like, they built what they thought was a teleporter.  And, of course, as soon as they built it, they had to use it.  Mom wanted to do small tests, sending an apple back and forth or something, but Dad decided to jump right into teleporting the entire house, because it was vacation time.”
“Yeah, okay, that sounds like your dad,” said Tucker.  
“Doesn’t it?  Which is why I’m worried now, because it’s the same thing all over again, he keeps getting too excited and then doesn’t slow down to make sure things work the way they’re supposed to.”
“You have no right to criticize that, Mr. Walks Into a Portal and Dies,” said Sam.  
“I think I’m the only one who does have the right to criticize it.”
“And the dimension?” asked Tucker.  “I want to know about the alternate dimension.”
“Right,” said Danny.  “Well, when Dad ‘teleported’ us, we knew things were wrong pretty much right away.  You guys have read a Wrinkle in Time, right?”
“Sure,” said Sam.  
“Yeah,” said Tucker.  “It was assigned last year, wasn’t it?”
“Right, so, you know the planet with the brain?  It was– It was kind of like that.”  His character died and he sighed.  “I suck at multitasking.  It wasn’t even just the stuff, it was, like, the air was flat.  The texture of everything was wrong.  Everything was… fake?  Like a performance, except it was the whole world.  Everyone just had these smiles on their faces but they were… empty.”
Sam propped her head up on her fist.  “Your parents sent you to play outside and didn’t notice any of that, didn’t they?”
“They did.  But they did notice stuff.  Like, all the houses being the same, the creepy sky–”
“The sky was creepy?”
“Super creepy.  It was like.  Segmented.  Triangles.  Like we were inside a pyramid.  And all the roofs were also pyramids, now that I think about it.  Just, pyramids everywhere.  Really pointy ones.  Oh!  And gravity was also a pyramid.”
“What?” asked Sam.  
“Gravity was a pyramid.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It was a pyramid.  Gravity.”
“Okay, okay, I think I’ve got this,” said Tucker.  “What shape is gravity here?”
“It’s round,” said Danny, “duh.”
“It’s round, so there you go, Sam,” said Tucker.  
“It is round,” said Danny.  “Like, gravitational fields, they’re round.  But they were pyramids there.”
“Wow,” said Sam.  “I wouldn’t have expected that.  Pyramids.”
“See?  Ghost Zone is totally different.”
“Yep,” said Tucker.  His computer let out another chime.  “By the way, you guys owe me soda now.”“How did you do that?” complained Danny.  “You weren’t even looking at the screen!”
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apollosfavkiddo · 2 days
Text
⛧° Cooking classes with Uncle Leo
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⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧
content: leo valdez x fem!reader blurb
warnings: probably cursing, bad spanish, not proofread. ig that's it?? lmk!!
a/n: i didn't really like this, but i'm posting it anyways lol. dedicated to covey and @/pinkdiorluvr cuz i know they both love leo hehehe
⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧
You never learnt how to cook. A disturbed childhood with a shitty mortal dad was not the best place to get cooking lessons. Or to learn anything, on that matter.  
The point is, cooking skills aren’t something you possess, and that annoys you beyond limits. That took you to asking your best friend, Leo Valdez, for cooking classes. Which he immediately accepted. I mean, who wouldn’t want to teach your crush how to cook? 
"So, when can I go to your house?” You asked, which made him snap back to reality from just admiring your features.  
“Uh... my house?” He asked, as he completely forgot what you guys were previously chatting about. He was too busy with noticing how the freckles coated your cheeks, and how your black hair framed your face in the prettiest way possible. Oh, he was down bad.  
“Are you even listening to me right now, Leo?” You asked, waving your hand in front of his face. 
“Uh, yeah, ‘course I am. You were talking about the... cooking classes, right?” He asked, a sheepish smile making his way to his lips. You just rolled your eyes. 
“Yes, I am. When can I come to your house, hm?” You asked again. 
“Tomorrow at seven sounds good to you?” He asked. 
“Yeah, that’d be great.” You answer, smiling softly as well.  
“You’re gonna learn how to make the perfect pasta alla carbonara, my dear apprentice. It's one of my specialties.” He said, passing an arm across your shoulders and pulling you to him.  
Before you could even pull away so you could leave, he planted a kiss with a loud ‘mwah’ to it and darted off, laughing. You were left confused, blushing and smiling as a toddler who just got a pack of candy.  
⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧ 
Leo stood in his kitchen, a grin plastered on his face as he waited for his best friend’s arrival. He was looking forward to it, since he knew that it was a chance of absolutely zero percent that this whole class didn’t end in absolute chaos.  
He leaned against the counter, tapping his fingers impatiently, trying to figure when you’d finally come, what clothes you’d be wearing, what shoes you’d wear and in which way your hair would be. Would it be down? Would you put it in a ponytail? A bun? A braid? 
Oh gods, he was such a sucker for that damned daughter of Poseidon.  
Eventually, he heard the rhythmic knock on the door, telling him that you were finally there, much to his happiness.  
“Come on, Valdez, it’s freezing out here!” You complained, just when he finally opened the door and you barged inside, escaping the snow from the outside world. You were in a black coat, wine-red leggings, gloves and a cute scarf so your nose didn’t get too cold. “Finally! Thought you’d leave me out there to die.” 
“I’d never do that, princesa. I mean, at least not today, I need an assistant.” He said jokingly, poking your shoulder and teasing you as you took your coat off.  
“I’m gonna punch you, I swear to all the gods that I know.” She threatened. He just smiled and walked towards the kitchen, with you following right behind him. “So, what’re you gonna teach me today?”  
“We’re gonna make the best pasta ever – carbonara!” He said happily as he pointed at the counter, which was filled with ingredients for the dish – bacon, eggs, flour and cheese were neatly organized in the counter, ready to be turned into a meal. 
“If this goes wrong, I'm ordering a happy meal.” You complained, putting the things you brought to make your favorite dessert, a classic that you learnt with a Brazilian friend of yours – Brigadeiro. It's actually the only thing that you can cook without burning down the whole house.  
“First, we gotta make the pasta.” The latino said, and you grimaced. 
“Why do we have to make it? Isn't it easier to just, you know, buy the pasta and cook it?”  
He shrugged. “Yeah, it’s easier. But making it is so much fun!” He said, with a smile on his face, and started pouring flour on the counter, making a small tower and soon making a hole in it. Then he stopped and looked at you. 
“What? Is there something on my hair?” You asked, brushing off your hair, which made Leo laugh. 
“No, no. I need you to grab six eggs and crack them here.” He said, gesturing towards the bowl.  
“Oh.” You mumbled and picked up the bowl, cracking the eggs in it and being extra careful with the shell. When you finished, you looked at him with puppy eyes. “What now?”  
“Put them here.” He said, gesturing to the hole in the flour. You nodded and poured the eggs there. “Now, you washed your hands, right?” You nodded again. “Great. Now, you have to mix the eggs and the flour until we have a smooth dough; the pasta!” 
You just nodded and put your hands to work. It was cute, since you didn’t seem to know what you were doing, and it was just so cute the way you were unsure on whether you were doing the right thing or not.  
“You’re doing great, y/n/n.” He assured. If you looked up, you’d see a proud smile on his face. 
After a few minutes of squeezing and mixing the dough, it was finally ready. You looked up at Leo’s face, a proud smile on your face and shining eyes. Maybe cooking wasn’t really that bad, after all. Not if you had a good teacher and friend around. 
He was starstruck. He couldn’t even move. You were just so pretty, flour all over your arms and hands, a little spot on your cheek white from when you rubbed the back of your hand on your face. He wanted nothing more than to kiss you in that moment.  
But he knew he couldn’t. He shouldn’t do it. Couldn't risk his friendship with you.  
And yet you were so tempting, so pretty like that. In his kitchen, with his apron – which was slightly too big for your tiny frame – and with him.  
“So, what do we do now?” You asked, interrupting the trance he was in. He shook his head and blushed, embarrassed to be caught like that.  
“Uh... the- the eggs. We need to make the eggs.” He said, blushing after getting caught staring at you. “You can whisk the yolks while I cook the bacon. Is that alright with you?”  
“Mhm. You just need to teach me how to separate the yolks.” You said, with a smile.  
You two continued the cooking, with Leo cooking the bacons till they were golden brown and crispy while you whisked the egg yolks and the cheese together. It was a fun night, where you ate the food you made – which was delicious, by the way – and had fun with your best friend. 
The only out of the ordinary thing was that the whole time you were there, the only thing you wanted was to jump on Leo’s lap and kiss the hell out of him.  
And his train of thought was not that far away from yours. 
Don't get me wrong, he loved to spend platonic time with you, of course. But he really, really wanted to kiss you.  
‘Oh, for my father’s sake, what I wouldn’t give to kiss her.’  
“...what?” You asked, your face clearly redder with his – more than sudden – confession.  
You never thought he’d want to kiss you, much less give yourself the hope that maybe someday that’d happen. No, it was selfish, and you knew – or at least thought – that he’d never ever like his best friend.  
But here he was, saying how much he’d give in exchange for a kiss.  
“Oh, shit- I said that out loud, didn’t I? I’m so sorry, Y/n, you can really pretend this never happened, I just-” AAAAAND he was rambling. Again. So, the easiest way out of that situation was, obviously, shut him up with a kiss.  
He immediately melted. His hands stopped flying around his face and went to graze your neck and waist, unsure, but ready to search.  
It was one of the best kisses you’ve ever had, and it was definitely the most awaited one. His lips were cracked and raspy, and he tasted sweet like the juice you had.  
When you finally pulled away, both of your cheeks were red and there was a smile playing on both of your lips.  
“I kinda love you.” You admited.  
“Good, ‘cause i love you too, princesa.” 
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annakusminaa · 2 days
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Oh Hi❤️‍🩹
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Hey guyssss. So I’ve been gone for a few days! If anyone noticed. Prob not.
So yeah I haven’t been posting for a couple days because tbh I’ve completely fallen off the band wagon. Which has put me down in the dumpssssss. I’m haven’t dealt with binging in like genuinely 2 months. Not that I thought the habit was kicked, but I’ve definitely lost the most amount of weight I ever have by NOT binging within this lil while. Buuttttt then she came for a visit.
Yes, I actually recognize why it happened. Anyone who’s asked me how I do it my #1 RULE OF THUMB is I do NOT fast. It just makes you hungrier and it’s not a good time. Well I broke my #1 rule when I went out to my anniversary dinner with my bf. I fasted for way longer than I should’ve before. (I will not talk numbers due to the competitive nature of issues) ANYWAY, that night i was SO hungry and I guess lost control for these past 2 days. I won’t get into specifics. An old habit I had was always to fast before a restaurant, so I didn’t even really think about it. But yeah not smart.
I am human, I am just like all of you. I fall and when I fall it’s shit but the important bit is to get back up and continue on like normal. I’m not going to beat myself up for it because mistakes happen. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to fast to make up for it, but that’s what got me into this mess. So I will not be doing that even tho I feel as I should, and I will NOT be cutting out any food groups either. All that is just one big recipe for disaster.
Anyway, I always try to be as transparent as possible and show my falls. It’s not all glamorous with me in zkinnyville 💀. As I get back on the band wagon take this pic of my arm. LOL.
ON A MORE POSITIVE NOTE, i finished my 3rd year of uni. WOOOO
-Anna K
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tiyoin · 1 day
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pt.4 | 📍pt.5
rewrote, edited and proofread chapter five cause I thought it was horseshit and you guys deserved more from me. 🫶
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numb.
you tried to feel numb.
doing everything in your power to push down any kind of emotion that was ready to slip through your mask.
look ahead, stand tall, put one foot in front of the other so no one would know you were wearing a confidence coat that was 2 sizes too small.
don't breathe too loud they'll hear you.
don't step too loud they'll think about your weight.
don't blink too much they'll think you're fluttering your lashes at them.
don't tuck your chin in they'll think you're gross.
gross for what exactly? everything.
don't mess up the stepping pattern or else you'll look like a bumbling idiot as you try to get back on the rhythm.
don't clench your fists they'll think you're mad and unapproachable.
don't smile because you're not in front of a mirror where you can control how much you want to give away.
don't think too hard or else you'll become enraptured with your daydreams and you won't be able to take part in reality.
don't do anything with your lips or else some air will come in and create a sound that sounds similar to a fart. then they'll think you're extra gross.
all these rules you had to follow to 'be normal,' weren't an actual set of rules, but a lifestyle. you wouldn't get collared if you didn't do one of the rules, you wouldn't get yelled at or reprimanded.
you were okay. to your knowledge that is.
on the outside, you probably looked like you had a stick up your ass. always in a rush to get to where you needed to go. like one of those rolling backpack kids back in your world. whenever they would pass they'd take casualties with them. rolling over toes, pencils, teachers- there was nothing in their way they couldn't bulldoze through.
you were just missing the wheels and will of iron it took to be seen with such a… what’s the right word- atrocity, in public, let alone an all-boys school.
underneath the habits and self-induced numbness, past all the anxiety and fear there was a tickle. not an actual tickle, but a sudden feeling you couldn't identify. it wasn't rage or frustration. you weren't sad or envious... you think- it was something gentler than that.
something softer yet just as negative was infesting your heart and mind like a slow-acting poison. poisoning your thought process, your habits, your attitude, and your livelihood.
though the breeze and sunshine walking to class supplied your flesh with warm- there was a chill over your heart. the beams of warmth too short to reach into the many cracks and holes that were created. sometimes you thought there was a bug. a big, juicy parasitic bug that would suck away your hopes and feast on your memories. It had a sweet tooth that was for certain, only targeting happy memories as it kept you with the bad ones.
did you ever have happy memories?
there was nothing you could do about the pestering leech. it wouldn't go away with Kalim's warmth and silver's calm. two sides of the same coin.
but no matter how many times you flipped: heads or tails, heads or tails, heads or tails would never work.
yes, you would smile, you would laugh- put on a poor show to convince yourself and others that there was nothing wrong. Everything was okay deep down and inside your twisted little mind. 
sometimes, you weren't sure who exactly you were performing for. 
"why am I scared to laugh" you remembered asking yourself one night, putting down your jester's hat for the evening. 
looking in the dusty mirror, your eyes carefully roamed your face, ticking off imperfections as you scanned every feature, scrutinizing every fold, and every slight bump on your skin. saving the most obvious imperfection for last, you finally acknowledged the brewing red horn ready to grow on the side of your forehead.
you knew it was a normal thing that teenagers of all ages experienced. but you felt especially helpless now, with the lack of beauty supplies and makeup. but with a quick brush of your hair, the brewing red horn disappeared behind some tresses of hair.
"I look like a demon"
...
"though if it was on my nose, i'd look like rudolph"
there was no punchline. yet the observation- not even an original comparison, made you laugh. 
A tiny huff puffed from your chest. though the more you imagined yourself with deer ears and a bright lobster red nose, you could feel your thoracic region start to shake. trying to push the sixth sense of judgment the walls were giving you, you forced yourself to laugh. holding onto this artificial laugh as long as you could. you hadn't laughed in a while. hadn't smiled in a minute. you'd barely look at yourself in the mirror most days.
gripping onto the vanity you watched your eyes crinkle and smile stretch. tripping and stumbling over scattered objects in your room you were still clenching your stomach nonetheless.
you felt like a tumbling tornado. clumsily tripping over everything with no set destination or concern for the things in your path. a shoe got kicked up. a pen you remembered liking got stepped and rolled on. a book you read a few nights ago kicked to the door as you set your eyes on your bed. with a few more violent acts towards inanimate objects, you carried your shaking body to bed.
this was it. you were going insane, weren't you?
all you needed was a canvas and paints and you'd truly become insane.
flopping down unceremoniously you let it linger for a second. sighing in contentment as you stared up at the ceiling.
you loved laughing, it was fun! but you were afraid to laugh, to live. remembering Kalim's quote of 'Everything is fun when you make it fun,' you wanted to scoff at his naivety. but Kalim was right.
if you made things miserable for yourself that's how they'll be.
directing your mind back to your head, you blinked owlishly.
oh. you were so caught up in the daydream you forgot you were in the hallways.
peeking through bumping shoulders, you tried looking towards the wall to check the room number.
"shit"
making a giant u-turn with as many 'excuse me's' and 'pardon me's,' you rerouted yourself back to your class. never having walked this way to class you were a bit hesitant. what if you walked by it again? what if someone is watching you and making fun of you for being a daft idiot?
breathe.
but what if you're late for class? crewel will have your hide- skin? doesn't matter what it is cause it'll be his. what if they all laugh when we're late-
we're not late yet it's only-
but when we get to class we'll be late!
perking up when you noticed the assigned numbers to your class, you weaved through the chattering sardines and beelined it to class.
no bell. no expectant crewel. no eyes besides from the easy-to-ignore front row. perfect.
the sigh you were holding in finally set itself free as you adjusted the grip of your books, and you strolled down the isles.
don't walk too fast they'll think you're strange.
but also don't walk too slow so they don't think you're lazy.
head down absent-mindedly adjusting your books, you followed your hand's cue and put your attention on a fixed thing. aka: your books.
but to your relief, you soon found your seat. with a huff, you unloaded the cargo pulled out some loose-leaf paper, and started writing.
writing what? not even you knew. but it made you look busy and that was important.
you didn't lay around in bed all day. you didn't continuously scroll through your phone to distract yourself. you didn't cry at night looking at everyone's socials, wishing it was you having fun. envy bubbling like a nasty tar in your bloodstream as you scorned everyone for having fun when you're miserbale-
"y/n!'
"oow"
sliding in next to you was silver. hair disheveled and tie ever so crooked, though he still looked really good-
pervert a voice whispered. tensing, you looked around and saw no one paying attention to your little corner.
"I tried calling you in the hallway." his boyish smile eased a beat in your rhythmic heart, only for it to take 2 more beats.
"y-you did?" you gulped.
silver nodded as he organized his books. "Yeah, but it's so chaotic and loud I'm guessing you didn't hear me" you nodded in agreement, tongue slipping over itself as you tried conjuring up an excuse.
"I- uh I'm really sorry I didn't hear you. I didn't even know you were there! I was kinda worried about not being elbowed to death." you didn't know why you were chuckling at the end but it felt scene-appropriate. you weren't sure if you believed what you told silver despite it being the truth.
was he going to refute it? was he going to give you a once over and mentally think 'how dare they ignore me' because all the diasomnia students you'd interact with had that very haughty, entitled personality?
 but to your slight dissatisfaction, silver only nodded in understanding.
"I'm real-"
"There's no-"
you both started at the same time, sharing a shy smile at the pause.
"you can go ahead" he nodded. Waving your hands, you disagreed. "you were talking first, I'm sorry, go ahead"
even though you gave the green light, silver still heisted to go. giving the air another few seconds before he started talking.
"there is no need to ask for forgiveness. I understand if you couldn't hear me, I'm not the most vocal after all. if only sebek were here" he mulled the last part. wincing at the name, you wanted to pinch yourself for slipping up. damnit you showed that you didn't like a person he was friends with- he'll hate you now. you're screwed, you screwed yourself. don't you understand that he's probably planning on running to sebek as soon as you leave? then everyone in diasomnia is going to hate you-
you nodded, tiny little yellow sponges in white shirts and red ties ran around your brain as a fire roared throughout- wherever they were inside your head.
you tried to push the flood of incoming thoughts into a box, a big red crate with a crab lock to be exact. you were feeling antsy, looking for anything to focus on besides the silver-haired upperclassman in front of you. 
sometimes you wish you were a computer. unable to feel and to only run on logic. it seems easier that way.
a thought bubble popped into your brain like an internet pop-up ad. 
did they even have computers in twisted wonderland? duh of course they do, they have phones after all.
the thought of twisted wonderland's technology started to swarm and hijack your train of thought. effectively taking out the conductor and changing its course.
did they also have an Industrial Revolution like the United States had? what was the start of it? which kingdom had it first? was there something to set off the alleged revolution? How is it the same and how is it different from your world's?
did magic have allay in it? of course, it did. but how did magic make it different than-
"y/n"
snapping your head at the familiar voice. you looked to silver. only able to take in physical information as the new conductor saw a hole in the tracks, pulling the breaks almost immediately.
"you okay there?"
slowly you nodded, as a few members of the hijacking team jumped out of the train- some ideas and questions with it.
"yeah.. sorry about that, kinda got lost in my train of thought there"
nodding with understanding, silver started talking about how he would sometimes start nodding off when he was talking to someone. half paying attention, half trying to save the train- your brain was split in half as you took in all internal and external information.
until you heard the magic words everyone loves to hear: "what were you thinking ab-"
"The Industrial Revolution"
"... pardon?"
anddd you failed, the train fell into the deep deep gorge that the tracks would normally allow the said train to glide over... but alas! they were gone! blown to smithereens as it guided the train into the deep cavern. a big explosion followed soon after. 
"dont worry about it" you brushed him off. saved by the bell as Crewel stood up, riding crop in hand yelling out orders like a drill sergeant.
silver scooted closer. you scooted back, the original distance between you two doubling. you were focused on writing your name, date etc & etc, on another loose-leaf paper.
the dreamy-eyed second-year made some noises before he knew what he was going to say. he started softly "are you okay"? but then grew slightly louder as unease set in "from... last class? I mean I know yuu told me it was a touchy subject but... i just wanted to check in"
your pencil screeched to a halt as the words 'yuu told me-' chanted in your head. it was the only thing you could focus on because what did he mean 'yuu said-'. "what did yuu say." you spoke, voice stable for the first time that morning.
silver's tongue tied itself as he fixed his hair a bit. "well..." he straightened up slightly, "after you stormed... no, escape is a better word. after you escaped the classroom yuu followed before i could. but crewel ended up stopping me before i could even move. and i asked yuu what happened the next time i saw them and asked how you were doing.. to sum it up: they told me you get nervous around new people soo"
dread set over you like a fast-approaching shadow.
oh no. he thinks you're a weird socially inept loser doesn't he? he thinks you're some kind of loser that doesn't go out weekends, weekdays, any day for all that matter. he probably makes fun of you with sebek. right?
"ah well," you cleared your throat. a lie already on the tip of your tongue "I mean it's like- a yes and no kinda thing. I didn't have a lot of guy friends when I was younger so being thrust" you thrust your hands in emphasis "into an al guys school has been quite the adjustment."
quickly, your mind conjured up a painting of a small house in a meadow filled with wildflowers. it was the only thing you could see for miles. it was a nice house with a straw roof, a smoking brick chimney, and a little garden outback. the only problem with the house is that you blew it up.
 with nuclear missiles. 
and the intensity of the blast was so strong that it created a small crater in the earth, no traces of the house were left as it's entire existence was reduced to ash and rubble all because of you.
the urge to bash your head into the nearest wall like intruding hornets slipping through a crack in an attic to terrorize a small family. there goes your social life right?? what soil life? you killed it before you could even nurture it!
your mouth and mind were running on autopilot while your conscience went blank.
your mouth was a fountain that spewed water everywhere. trying to get yourself out of the hole you dug yourself- crater, more specifically.
"but uhhh yeah, no you're good! you're different and I'm quite glad I got partnered with you since you're not as..."
"boisterous?" silver quipped.
you nodded. silver chuckled, leaning further away from you. "yeah me too. if I got paired with one of your friends only the sevens know how much damage that'll do to my physical and mental well-being"
you both discreetly looked over at the rest of the class watching as all pairs seemed to be in some kind of chaos. whether it's floyd being impulsive, grim trying to add the wrong chemical into a potion. (you didn't even need to know what they were making to know that whatever he's trying to sneak in- doesn't belong there.)
and you were thanking whatever god the people of twisted wonderland worshipped that you weren't paired with one of the adeuce combo. ace would try to take control of the project, pretending he knew what he was doing while simultaneously giving you backhanded compliments on your intelligence. only to ruin the entire project and somehow find a way to blame you for it. 
meanwhile, deuce and you would be two peas in a squished pod: not knowing what you're supposed to be doing and ultimately winging it as you tried to match your hot barbie pink potion to crewel's muted blush potion. knowing the both of you, it would end up navy blue and when crewel went to fix it he would add a pinch of fleabane- a literal pinch, and it'd be fixed. embarrassing the both of you for all eternity.
"I wonder which group is gonna blow up the lab first mused quick to shut your lips, you were quick to wish for a sewing kit to forcefully shut you up.
but a small voice whispered 'it's better to take risks than stay comfortable.'
and silver seemed... nice.
silver looked out at the crowd for a moment longer, turning to you he started slowly, "while the yuu, grim, and ace trio seem to be the most obvious choice...." he thought carefully, "epel and deuce seem to be at a loss of what to do and are about 6 shade off. which surprised me since epel is in pomfiore"
"he's actually sh- really-" you started again, taking a moment to think over what you were going to say "I heard that epel's not that great at potions despite being under vil's careful watch...." silver's eyes widened, replying with a soft 'really?' as he looked back to the groups with newfound interest.
you to yourself "never judge a book by its cover" you shrugged, immediately turning to your work. anxiously, you waited for a response. 
although circumstances are vastly different- is this how people felt when in the talking stage? if so it was a dreadful experience. 
before your pessimistic thoughts could even start, silver responded with a chuckle, enviably agreeing with your statement. you could almost sweat with relief as an invisible weight got lifted from your shoulders.
silver seems nice...
a new voice, meek and unsteady although louder than the usual pessestimic ones in control. and for once, you allowed yourself to feel the slight comfortable tingle it gave you.
the hope and drive to that you haven't felt or experienced in a while.
you wished to get closer to him.
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cinnamonest · 2 days
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Thinking about terrible terrible boys who use Darling’s social anxiety against themselves
Kaveh who keeps you home because the world is just far too mean, just look at his roommate if you need any reminder. It’s putting himself out there that resulted in his debt, it’s the outside that caused you hurt don’t ever forget. It’s fine, he’ll lavish you enough to fill all you need, you really don’t need any other contact than himself!… and the forced proximity of Alhaitham grrr.
Ayato who keeps bringing you in important social events just to see you cling to him. He doesn’t teach you any etiquette, so you never know what’s socially unacceptable. You stand so close to him, trembling, your voice barely louder than a whisper. It serves as a reminder, see how bad the world is? All of them are vile people. If you run away, who’s to say you won’t end up with someone worse than him? (It’s terrible, how you keep waking these sadistic urges in him. He’s a good man with lots of self restraint but still a man.)
Wriothesley who got you locked up in his office. You complain about boredom, about his behaviour, but he only swat your worries away. He’s not worried about you ever running off, this is an underground prison. Criminals are the only residents, and god knows how many would have enough self control to keep their hands off if he’s not with you. Besides you’ve been here for so long, you have no place on the surface anymore. What would you do, go cry to Neuvillette? Pfff yeah, right. Try saying hello to Clorinde without trembling first.
Yes yes I am FOR this idea, also consider: Kaeya is the top tier candidate for it. He’s already in the top tier of Manipulative Bastardry, but it gets so much worse if he finds a weakness to exploit — and he’s great at sensing those.
He doesn’t mind that you’re introverted. However, he doesn’t just use the situations as opportunities to give you affirmation as a means of comforting you and coaxing you into bonding with him, no, he stoops so much lower than that. Outright taking advantage of it for his own benefit, ensuring he can use every tactic at his disposal to get whatever he wants... except "whatever he wants" actually just tends to be one consistent thing.
In the early stages, where he can pretend he doesn’t know you well enough to be able to feign ignorance to how much it would exhaust you, he makes sure to plan long public outings, watching as your energy quickly drains until you can’t bear another second in the public atmosphere and all but beg him to return home.
This gives him the opportunity to act disappointed (when in reality, he’s overjoyed it’s playing out exactly as planned) — aw, and here he had so many more things he wanted to show you before the night was over, but no worries, it’s fine… no no, it’s fine, really… and now that you’re all nice and feeling guilty, well, that will just make it much easier to coax you into giving him something to compensate for the disappointment you’ve caused once you’re behind closed doors. Maybe you’ll even volunteer it yourself.
But even later on, once he can no longer put on an act of not knowing how easily drained you are, he can still use it against you. Don’t worry, he knows you’re shy and easily tired out, you two can just stay at home tonight… besides, there’s plenty of fun things you can do alone at home, right…? Surely you’ll be able to think of something.
He, however, stoops even lower still, because he’s also willing to exploit your paranoias and insecurities, even if it means hurting you a bit. Part of the reason why you’re so socially withdrawn, he learns, is that you’re afraid of how others perceive you — I’m just annoying them, they all secretly hate me, you say, everyone thinks I’m weird…
And he… doesn’t rush to correct you or anything. Just shrugs.
Ah, who cares what they think? You already have someone who appreciates you as you are, you know.
Not denying it. If anything, it’s a subtle confirmation… he may even throw in a blatant —
Well, sure, they might feel that way, but I don’t. That’s good enough, isn't it? What do you need their attention for...?
— to really drive the point home, and throw in a bit of accusation and guilt for good measure. He likes hearing you immediately panic and stumble over your words as you reassure him that you don't need anyone else... it's adorable, and the ego boost is euphoric.
Honestly, you’re too gullible for your own good, so precious, so cute in how you fall for it so perfectly, effortless on his part. You don’t even hide your reaction in your expression, so transparent and vulnerable, the way your eyes widen with shock and you hang your head and your eyes water, giving him the perfectly opportunity to comfort you and hold you close and assure you it’s okay, they don’t matter, screw them anyway, and so on.
You’re so sweet, so pure. So much so that you almost, almost actually make him feel bad about it. How impressive.
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