#even though i thought they forgot about me
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not according to plan | hjs
summary: your ex-fiance is getting married and everyone you know is going to be there. when he calls to ask if you're coming, you accidentally mention a boyfriend. which would be fine, if you weren't very single. thankfully your best friend comes through with the perfect solution when he sets you up with a friend of his. what could possibly go wrong?
pairing: joshua x f.reader
genre: fake dating, strangers to friends to ?? | fluff, slight angst, smut
rating: explicit, minors DNI
word count: ~22.1k
notes/warnings: johnny suh as the ex-fiancee (sorry, he's not great in this), other idols born in '95 used as background characters, mentions of past cheating, food & alcohol, lots of "dates", reader is referenced as coming from a rich family, mention of being an escort (minus the sex?)
smut warnings: making out, multiple smut scenes (kind of, it could be a continuation), multiple orgasms, teasing, they're both v obsessed with each other's bodies, protected sex, fingering, nipple play, oral sex (f. receiving), scratching/marking, squirting, overstimulation, use of lube, i think that's it (but let me know if it's not)
author's note: this fic is dedicated to the lovely @shuadotcom, i'm so sorry it took me literal months to finish fake dating!joshua but here we are anyway. i'm not sure how this one got so away from me either lmao. banner credit to the beautiful @wongyuseokie who (again) did this very last minute. thank you to @wonwussy & @kwanisms for the mid-fic beta. thank you to @wooahaeproductions, @horanghater, @cheolism, & @hannieween for listening to me talk about this and helping with things like petnames & dates.
taglist at the end (& join my permanent taglist here)
“It’s fine, it’s been years and I’m over it. Plus, I’ve been seeing someone anyway and he’s great. So I wasn’t ignoring your invite,” you say without a second thought.
It’s just a stream of consciousness. The lie comes flying out of your mouth faster than your brain can process it. That’s exactly what it is, too. A lie. You’re not seeing anyone and haven’t been in a serious relationship since the person on the other end of the call broke your heart.
“Oh, wow, sorry, I didn’t mean to…well, I didn’t know. My mom didn’t say anything when she said she had spoken to your mom about whether or not you were coming to the wedding,” Johnny says with a little bit of ramble.
“You know how my mom can be, I haven’t had the chance to tell her yet,” you deflect.
“I’m happy for you, then,” Johnny says.
“Thanks, I’m happy for you, too,” you force out. Somehow, it doesn’t sound like the lie you know that it is.
“So, it’s not weird, then? I mean our moms are best friends, so the rest of your family is all going to be there. A lot of your friends will be there. I know you haven’t RSVP’d yet, but…” Johnny starts.
“Nope! Not weird at all,” you utter, hoping that your voice sounds even. “It’d be weirder if I wasn’t there, right?”
“Probably, yeah,” Johnny says. “That’s great, though. Do you want me to mark you down as a yes? I can even add a plus-one, if you want to bring your partner.”
“That’s so thoughtful, but I wouldn’t want to put you out. I know how expensive weddings can be,” you say and try to sound sincere.
“No, it’s no issue, actually. We have a few extra seats that we left just in case we forgot someone or didn’t know about someone’s partner,” Johnny presses. “So we’ll see you both there?”
“Yeah, you will,” you hurry out. This conversation needs to be over.
It’s only an hour after hanging up with your ex-fiancee that your mom calls to tell you she can’t believe she had to hear it from Mrs. Suh that you’re dating someone. Which includes a whole lot of deflecting and promises about when she can meet this mystery man. Another twenty minutes after you hang up with your mom, you get a pointed text from your younger sister. The two of you haven’t ever been all that close, so she shouldn’t be surprised that you haven’t mentioned him. She made her side pretty clear when she maintained her friendship with Johnny’s new fiancée. That new fiancee, a close friend of your sisters, also just so happened to be the girl he cheated on you with. So, she can hardly expect to have a close sister bond. Yet, she seems oddly suspicious that she didn’t know you were seeing someone seriously.
Your quiet Saturday afternoon turns into a full blown headache all thanks to one call from the asshole that you really thought you left in the past. Of course, now is the perfect time for him to pop back up. Now, when you’re even between any sort of casual sex. Now, when you don’t even have someone that you can call up to pretend to date you. This is going to be one of the worst calls that you have to make when you have to admit you made it all up, that you will absolutely not be showing your face at the wedding, and you will also be changing your name before moving away.
For now, you do the only thing that you can think of doing. You call the only person that can give you any perspective on this whole fucking disaster.
“Well hello,” your best friend answers.
“Jeonghan, I fucked up,” you say without preamble.
“This is gonna be good,” he responds.
“I just got off the phone with my mom,” you begin.
“What did she want?” he asks, knowing that it won’t be anything good.
“Well, you know, to talk about this new boyfriend of mine,” you continue.
“You haven’t dated anyone in forever,” Jeonghan chuckles.
“Thank you for that,” you snark. “And then, of course, I get a text from my perfect sister wondering why she’s also just hearing about this boyfriend of mine.”
“Why do your sister and your mom think you’re dating someone?” Jeonghan asks.
“Oh, well, you know. Johnny called today,” you offer.
“Fuck that guy,” Jeonghan interjects.
“He wanted to know why I hadn’t responded to his wedding invite and assumed it was awkward because I was single, so I told him I was seeing someone,” you finally finish.
“For fuck’s sake,” Jeonghan says into the silence and you can imagine his face.
“Right? My life is a fucking mess and now Johnny thinks that I’m bringing my boyfriend,” you groan.
“I’ll start planning the story for why you suddenly left town,” Jeonghan says.
“For real, my life is over,” you whine.
“What are you gonna do?” Jeonghan asks softly.
This is really why you called him. Jeonghan is a shithead, sometimes, and he can be a bit of a chaos demon. He also can be a bit of a schemer, especially when it comes to winning a game. But, he’s unfailingly kind and caring to the people he holds dear. He absolutely hates getting into any kind of real conflict with his friends. There’s that whole side to him that honestly wouldn’t hurt a fly and always has a way to comfort. That’s the side that you get now.
“I don’t know,” you answer, voice just as quiet. “I’m just…I don’t want to let him win, you know?”
And Jeonghan does know. You’ve been friends since before you started dating Johnny. Even though he never liked him, Jeonghan supported you in your relationship. When Johnny proposed, he called your other friends and set up the best engagement party anyone could ask for. From the outside, nobody would ever know that he hated your partner. Honestly, he’s the best friend anyone in the world could ask for.
Before he got around to setting up the bridal shower, which he’d been quietly planning for months, your whole world turned upside down. Johnny cheated, had been cheating awhile, actually, and Jeonghan was there to pick up the pieces. Somehow, he was the only one that seemed to make it better, probably because he didn’t want to act like things were okay when they weren’t. It was easy to cry in front of him, easy to be vulnerable, easy to just let the process play out so you could heal. Even though he never liked Johnny, he also didn’t say he told you so. This had never been something that crossed his mind.
“Okay, you’re gonna hate it, but I have an idea,” Jeonghan says.
“Those are never comforting words coming from you,” slips out of your mouth.
“Usually I’d yell at you, but…” he trails off.
“I swear, if you’re about to say that we pretend to be dating like some romcom, I will hang up the phone,” you warn.
“First of all, that’s rude, I’m a great boyfriend,” Jeonghan says.
“I never said you weren’t, Hannie, you know I think you’re gorgeous,” you sigh.
“That’s true, I am,” Jeonghan says through a laugh.
“But, I also know you remember what an unmitigated disaster it was when we fucked,” you point out, earning an even louder laugh.
“Wow, and here I thought that it was actually great sex,” he says.
“I’m not gonna keep stroking your ego, I already admitted you were gorgeous. I don’t need to praise the sex, too,” you declare.
“Stroking my…come on, you’re making it too easy,” Jeonghan points out.
“Funny, because I remember you being the easy one that night,” you say, finally managing to get a shot in.
“I hate you,” Jeonghan snorts.
“I know,” you answer. “Didn’t you say that you had an idea?”
Jeonghan clears his throat. “Right, yeah. Well, I know this guy and maybe he can help you out.”
“What is he, an escort?” you snort out.
“Do you want my help or not?” Jeonghan asks.
“Yoon Jeonghan, are you about to set me up with an escort?” you challenge.
“No, of course not, just trust me,” he says.
Just trust me might be the three most terrifying words that could come out of Jeonghan’s mouth, especially when you’re not usually on the receiving end of his schemes. It’s not like you have much choice, though. The wedding is in six weeks and you have to find a solution, fast. So, what choice do you have other than trusting your best friend? How could this go wrong?
You still think this is a terrible idea, yet agree to meet Jeonghan’s friend, Joshua, anyway. Apparently, he’s somewhat new to the area, doesn’t know many people, and is incredibly easy to be around. There’s no mention of why Jeonghan thinks he might be willing to pretend to be your boyfriend. A part of you wonders if your friend even told him, but he’s not that cruel. So, whatever the case, Joshua must at least have some idea of what he’s walking into.
Several days pass between the nightmare of a call from Johnny and you actually meeting Joshua, which only adds to your anxiety about whether or not this is going to work. Johnny is asking for a name for the seating chart and for dinner selections. Your mom wants to know when they’ll be able to meet this new boyfriend before the wedding (because “meeting him for the first time at a wedding is gauche” and we wouldn’t want that). Your sister is convinced that he doesn’t actually exist since you haven’t posted him on social media. That you can at least answer to say that not everyone posts their entire life online like she does. It doesn’t seem to allay her suspicions, though.
Then, there’s the fact that you’re actually meeting Joshua for the first time at dinner. All you wanted was to go for coffee, yet he insisted. You couldn’t exactly press the point. Not when you’re planning to ask this stranger to pretend to date you just so that you can avoid the embarrassment at your ex’s wedding. On top of that, because Jeonghan really is a demon at his core, you don’t know what Joshua looks like. Don’t know who to look for. Which leads to you doing the only sensible thing and showing up 5 minutes late for dinner, hoping that he’ll already be at the table when you get there.
It works.
When you give the reservation name at the host stand, you’re immediately led back to a table. Without even thinking about it, you smooth your hands down the front of your dress, looking for a small amount of comfort in this situation. It’s not even that you struggle around new people, this is just…well, it’s a lot. It’s out of anyone’s comfort zone. Whatever you’re expecting, it’s not the man sitting at the table the host leads you to. He nearly stops you in your tracks.
His black hair is perfectly styled down to the pieces on one side that come down over his forehead. The black dress shirt he wears is open at least one button too many, but he makes the exposed chest look work in a way models would envy. Even though his pants are black as well, he makes it look classic and effortless, rather than too dark. That’s all without even acknowledging the soft smile on his face. This man would break a thousand hearts without even saying a damn word. While you’re appreciating him, you miss the way his eyes rake over you appreciatively. Miss the way his eyes trace your curves and the way the dress clings to you.
In one fluid motion, he’s standing up to greet you, a gentle kiss placed on your cheek. Is it weird if your knees are a little weak? Well, even if it is, there’s nothing you can do. You’re completely captivated.
“You must be Joshua,” you say. Brilliant, you think. That’s obvious.
“It’s nice to meet you. Jeonghan had nothing but good things to say,” he answers with another smile as he pulls your seat out for you.
“I feel like he hardly told me about you,” you respond. Joshua raises a perfect eyebrow at that.
“Then why did you agree to go out with me?” Joshua asks.
“Go out with…is this a date?” The question comes tumbling out.
Joshua’s eyes widen in genuine confusion. “Is it not?”
“What, exactly, did Jeonghan say to you?”
A lot and nothing at all, it turns out. Joshua tells you about how he’s somewhat new to the area, which you knew. About how he met Jeonghan through work, kind of. They work in the same building doing very different things and happened to run into each other getting coffee a handful of times before Jeonghan introduced himself. The two had hung out several times, something Jeonghan had not really mentioned, and gotten to know each other over drinks more than once. The very first time, Jeonghan had mentioned you and Joshua admits immediately being intrigued without pressing for more information.
In any case, Jeonghan talked about you pretty freely, a fact that’s hardly surprising. Before Joshua texted you, Jeonghan had mentioned, in what Joshua calls an offhand way, that you were sick of dating the same people. According to Joshua, through Jeonghan, you were looking to possibly be set up. (Read: Jeonghan thinks he’s crafty and isn’t going to come out and tell this man what you’re really looking for. Typical Jeonghan, honestly. You know that “offhand comment” was anything but. And you had the audacity to think Jeonghan would have to tell Joshua what he’s getting into. Rookie move.)
Now you’re in a bit of an awkward situation because this man is honestly gorgeous, one of the prettiest humans you’ve ever met. And, already, he seems like he might be sweet with a pretty good sense of humor. It’s just…well, you’re absolutely not looking for a relationship and this is the last person you want to get involved in your mess. Thankfully, you get a moment to catch your breath when someone comes by to take a drink order and suggest an appetizer. It’s just enough time for you to talk yourself into telling Joshua the real story.
To his credit, he only looks mildly surprised as you outline your whole situation, inform him that yes, Jeonghan does know all of this, and clarify why you didn’t actually realize it was a date. It’s hard to miss the way his eyes seem to sparkle a bit when you also admit that he’s absolutely stunning in a way that hurts your feelings. Easier to miss is the way his face barely falls when you say that you’re not actually looking for something right now. Interesting.
“So that’s the whole thing and now that I’ve embarrassed myself in front of you, I’m sure you’ll understand if we never see each other after tonight,” you finish.
“How am I supposed to go to a wedding as your boyfriend in a matter of weeks if we don’t see each other after tonight?” Joshua wonders.
“I…what?” you sputter out.
“Well, sure, we need to work out a few details, but I’m game,” Joshua says with a shrug.
“I’m sorry, I think I’m just really confused?” You don’t even have food yet and this is already the most interesting date you’ve been on, possibly ever.
“I, uh, may have left a part of my past out when I was sharing what Jeonghan knew about me,” Joshua says. “And honestly, I can’t believe I didn’t catch it or that he did this. I’d be mad if I wasn’t so impressed by how crafty it was.”
“I’m going to need you to connect some dots for me,” you admit. “Oh and also never tell Jeonghan you appreciate him being crafty. His ego is too big as it is.”
“The first time Jeonghan and I hung out, we went out for drinks, got a little wasted, and I told him about how I got through my university studies without any debts,” Joshua says, pausing long enough for someone to set the appetizer down. “He’s observant, Jeonghan, I’ll give him that. He noticed I had designer clothes, shoes, that kind of thing. And he noticed I didn’t pay attention to the prices of the drinks. So I made a vague comment about being lucky to have found a way through my studies without taking out loans.”
“I’m sure he asked you about that, he loves it when he thinks there’s a scheme,” you note with a smile.
“You’re right about that,” Joshua agrees. “So I, well I told him. When I was in school, I met this woman out one night and she paid me to go to events with her. She wanted, and these were her words, ‘someone young and hot’ with her. And the next four years, that’s what I did. I let people pay for me to go to events with them. Never more than that. I was clear that I wasn’t selling sex or anything, just company.”
You lean back in your seat with an appraising look. “An entrepreneur from the beginning.”
“Hey, no judgment,” Joshua says. All you can do is smile.
“I’m not judging, that was really smart and you’re obviously attractive enough for it,” you acknowledge.
“Thank you,” Joshua says. It doesn’t have the air of cockiness Jeonghan’s answer would. He actually seems sincere in accepting the compliment.
“But, I’m still not going to pay you to pretend to be my boyfriend,” you say, even if it’s a bit reluctant.
“I wasn’t asking you to,” Joshua shrugs. “You don’t have to pay me.”
“Why would you offer to pretend to do something like this? You don’t even know me,” you point out.
“No, I don’t. But, you seem like a good person. And I like Jeonghan, he’s nice…” Joshua says, stopping when you try to cover a scoff.
“Nice?” you question when you’re caught.
“Wrong word choice,” Joshua dismisses. “He seems like the kind of person that’s a loyal friend, like he would go into battle to protect you. Like someone you can actually trust.”
“He is all of those things, yeah,” you admit.
“And if those things are true, then him holding you out as his best friend means you’re probably all of those things too,” Joshua reasons.
“I try to be,” you agree.
“Plus, Jeonghan did mention you had seriously dated someone that was pretty rich, so I figure it’s probably the guy getting married and it’ll be a nice wedding,” Joshua says with a smile. The joke is obvious by the look in his eyes.
“It’s interesting that he mentioned Johnny, that’s my ex, being rich,” you idly comment.
“Is he not?” Joshua wonders.
“Jeonghan is a lot of things, but he’d never lie to his friends,” you answer first. “So, yeah, he is. Well, his family is at least. His mom and mine run a lot of events together, like galas and shit. That’s how we all know each other.”
“Are you rich, too?” Joshua wonders. There’s that little twinkle of something in his eyes again, but there’s also sincerity.
“I’m still not paying you,” you retort.
“Fine,” Joshua agrees.
You roll your eyes. “Okay, so what’s the plan?”
There’s a weird world’s colliding feeling to having both Jeonghan and Joshua in your apartment. But, Jeonghan doesn’t like to be left out of things. Once you told him that you and Joshua both knew about his scheming, he offered to help in any way he could. Which is likely just so he’s included. You’ll take what you can get. Now, it means that he and Joshua are sitting on your couch, scrolling through pictures on Joshua’s phone to decide what to include in an instagram post. That’s the first step you and Joshua agreed on. If you’re going to sell this whole fake relationship, then your sister actually is right. There has to be some sort of proof of it online. Which also means that your post has to talk about how you’ve been keeping it quiet and just enjoying getting to know each other without any pressure. Jeonghan takes credit for that, even if you got there on your own.
“I think I like this one,” Jeonghan says and turns the phone around to show you.
“Why that one?” you ask.
“Why not? Don’t you like it?” Joshua worries.
“I don’t know, I feel like my hand is doing something weird,” you point out.
“You look great,” Joshua assures you.
“Oh, ew, you’re not really dating,” Jeonghan complains.
“You do know you’re going to have to stop saying that, right?” you ask.
“Maybe I didn’t know either,” Jeonghan shrugs.
“No, I’m with her, you’re her best friend and you definitely would’ve known,” Joshua agrees.
“Why are you on her side already?” Jeonghan whines.
“Because she’s cool and she’s not the one who knew what I did in college and set me up,” Joshua says with a laugh.
This is how it’s been going for the last hour. You’re not really much for putting a lot of effort into your posts, so this all feels like too much. But, you know that it’s important for it to feel real and it’s important to get it right. You’re honestly pretty happy to just let the guys take the lead and go with the flow of it all. There are going to be plenty of opportunities for you to take the lead. You’re going to take your breaks where you can.
(That had also meant not putting up too much of a fight when Jeonghan told you to bring multiple outfits with you. Or when you had to change your hairstyle and makeup between the photos so it looked like they hadn’t all been taken the same day. Honestly, this was so much easier for Joshua. Then again, he’s the one doing you a favor. So maybe you can let him have it.)
After you finally get your couple pictures posted, and get a flurry of messages ranging from surprise to congratulations, you move onto preparing Joshua to meet your parents, your sister, and her husband. Jeonghan is actually a lot of help with that because he’s been around them a lot. Well, he’s helpful after he tries to scare Joshua about how intimidating it’s going to be only to give up when Joshua is unbothered. He’s so calm about everything that it’s actually kind of nice to be around. And he has no problem firing back at Jeonghan, which is really fun to watch.
You go through what your parents are like, what they do both for work and as hobbies. Joshua perks up at the mention of your dad loving music and sometimes spending his weekends just exploring new venues. It seems like there might be more to that, though you don’t press when he waves it off. It’s different when you talk about your sister, two years younger and already married. Not that you’re dying to be married or even care that she got married before you. That’s always seemed like a weird societal expectation, anyway. What does it matter when anyone gets married? If it’s their right person, then it makes sense. You being upset over your failed engagement really doesn’t have anything to do with your sister’s marriage, despite her instance it does.
It becomes obvious that you’re losing Jeonghan’s attention when you turn down his request to start playing games or watch a movie. It’s not that you don’t want to do those things, it’s just that you have a lot to cover in far less time than you realized. Sure, the wedding is still weeks away. What’s not weeks away is your first dinner with your family. That’s going to be around the corner. The least you could do, you figured, was plan a time before posting pictures on instagram. So, Jeonghan asks if it’s okay to leave and you almost sigh in relief. This will be easier without an extra person.
“Not to pry, but what’s the deal with you and Jeonghan?” Joshua asks when you settle back on the couch with a glass of wine.
“What do you mean?” you ask.
“I don’t know, I feel like I was picking up on something,” Joshua shrugs.
“We’re really just friends,” you assure him.
“Sometimes those are the best…” Joshua starts.
“Don’t,” you cut off. He worries for a second before he realizes you’re smiling. “We did try. Not so much a try, I guess, but we slept together maybe 6 months after Johnny and I broke it off and it just wasn’t it.”
“You and him slept together?” Joshua questions.
“Is that weird for you?” you ask.
“No, it’s just interesting that you’re still so close,” Joshua observes.
“I guess,” you say with a shrug. “He’s great, obviously attractive, but we just, I don’t know. I didn’t feel anything. Neither did he. So, staying friends seemed like the right choice.”
“Interesting,” is all Joshua says. “Have you dated anyone seriously since Johnny?”
“Not that seriously, no,” you admit. “I’ve gone on dates with different people and some of them stuck around for a bit, but nothing serious.”
“Not finding the right people?” Joshua presses.
“I just haven’t found anyone that made me feel like Johnny did at the beginning or even like I did when he proposed,” you say.
“I can understand that, even if I don’t really get it. You’re gorgeous, anyone would be lucky,” he says smoothly. You cover a blush with a slight eye roll.
“I guess that’s why most of my close friends will also believe that I kept a new relationship on the low. They saw me post-Johnny and have seen me try to date,” you share.
“Yeah that’s good for us, at least,” Joshua agrees.
“What about you, though? When was your last relationship?” you ask.
“Ah, well it’s been a little over a year,” Joshua says.
“Bad ending?” you wonder. You’re not sure why you press him on it.
“It wasn’t great,” Joshua says with a chuckle. “She, uh, well she decided that she just really would rather be with one of my friends than with me.”
“I’m so sorry you went through that,” you say, suddenly sorry.
“No, no, it’s fine,” he says. “She didn’t actually cheat on me, but she had started getting close to him and sharing everything with him.”
“Arguably worse, in my opinion. Emotional cheating is still a thing,” you say, trying to offer comfort.
“Thank you,” Joshua says. His eyes are soft and full of care. “And, like you, I have dated since then, just nothing worth talking about.”
It’s an easy transition from that into talking about your backgrounds. Like speed dating, except somehow more intense. You learn Joshua’s birthday, his parents names, that he’s an only child, and where he grew up. Nothing is too small and you joke about taking notes before you actually go to get a notebook. Joshua tells you his favorite color and his favorite food, tells you about his favorite memories, favorite places where he grew up, and favorite places he’s found since moving here. There’s a way that his face lights up when he talks about his friends that’s drawing you in. You tell him the same. That all feels a little surface level, which you point out. If this is going to work, it has to be deeper, more serious.
That’s when something seems to almost break down. Joshua suggests that you tell each other the deep stuff, the things that you don’t always admit to someone you’re dating. Or, maybe you admit it and don’t get into the reasons why. When Joshua goes first and admits that he’s happiest when he’s playing his guitar, even if nobody else is listening, his whole face changes. It’s like a completely different version of him. He’s got an open face as it is, that hasn’t changed, but you realize maybe he’s a little guarded behind the smile as well. Maybe there really is more depth than he wants anyone to realize. Maybe this is going to be more interesting than you thought.
“Can I hear you play?” you ask. His face is adorable with his eyes full of surprise.
“You want to hear me play?” There’s an emotion you can’t place when he looks at you.
“I love music, too, Joshua,” you say softly. “I’d love to see what you’re passionate about.”
“Oh, well, I usually play at this acoustic night on Thursdays at a coffee shop downtown,” Joshua tells you.
“You do? That’s so cute!” you say before second guessing it. He looks away like he’s a little embarrassed and you worry for a split second.
“I’d love it if you came by,” he says.
“It’s a shame that we can’t say that’s where we met,” you admit.
“Wait, that would be a good idea, actually,” Joshua says and you smile.
“It would be, but I also know events like that. It’s always a similar crowd so I’m sure someone will know that I’ve never been,” you reason.
“Fair point,” Joshua concedes.
“Why don’t we just say we met on a dating app?” you suggest and Joshua pulls up his face. “Okay, I know apps are lame and honestly, I don’t use them much. But, think about it. That’s the perfect reason why we didn’t bring it up until now, we didn’t want to answer the ‘where did you meet’ question by saying an app.”
“Okay, yeah, I do actually like that because it’s easy and it doesn’t feel like a wild story,” Joshua says.
“What about your parents?” you ask. “Do we need to make plans to meet them if you’re also posting about me?”
“We can figure that out, but they live pretty far away so it would probably just be over FaceTime or something,” he says.
“I also understand if you don’t want to do that because we’re just pretending,” you suggest.
“No, it’d be cool to have you meet them. Even if the relationship isn’t real, I’d like to be friends for real, so that’s not a total lie,” Joshua reasons.
“I’d like to be friends too,” you agree. “How long have you been living here, now?”
“Oh, um, like 8 months?” Joshua says like a question.
“I was figuring like a month or two with the way Jeonghan talks about you,” you laugh.
“You’ve been friends with him for years, you’re not actually surprised,” Joshua points out.
“Okay so now I guess we have to figure out when we started dating,” you comment.
“And everything else, but we can do it,” Joshua says.
You’re a little nervous sitting on your couch waiting for Joshua to show up. Even though you offered to pick him up for dinner with your family tonight, he insisted on being the one to drive. Of course he’s right on time, which you’re already realizing is a trait of his. He’s even a gentleman when he opens the door for you, just like he pulled the chair out the first time you met for the date-not-date. As you put your seatbelt on, you notice that there are a few things in the backseat.
“What’s all that?” you ask as he slides into the driver’s seat.
“Flowers for your mom, a bottle of scotch for your dad, and a cheese board for your sister because you said they just moved and she likes to host,” Joshua lists off as if it’s nothing.
“You did not have to get things for all of them,” you point out.
“Of course I did, but I also wanted to. I’m trying to make a good impression,” he says, making your heart a little light.
“That’s so kind,” you whisper out.
“Oh, I thought of something else,” Joshua shifts. You’re worried you made him uncomfortable until he speaks again. “Are you a pet name person in relationships?”
That makes you snort, something that would embarrass you in any other situation. It’s not the first time he’s heard it, though. “That depends on what you want to call me.”
“That’s a dangerous way to say that,” Joshua answers. His eyes are still on the road, yet you don’t miss the way he reacts.
“I don’t like overly cutesy names,” you say to diffuse a little bit of the moment. “Like, I don’t know, if you want to call me sugarplum or honeybunch or something like that, please don’t.”
“You’re just giving me ideas to take away my fun,” he pouts.
“Well, what were you thinking of calling me? Or are you even a pet name person?” you ask.
“I do like them,” Joshua says. “I’m not sure that I have a go-to or anything. For you, I might say angel or possibly darling.”
“I think I prefer angel, if I’m allowed to pick,” you say after a moment.
“Of course,” Joshua replies. Studying his face, you’re looking for a hint of mocking or insincerity, but there’s nothing to find. This is just him.
“Do you want me to use a pet name for you?” you wonder.
“I’d happily take one, no pressure, though,” he says.
“I’ll have to think about it,” you tell him. “Something generic like babe doesn’t feel right.”
“Are you saying I’m special?” Now you can hear the light teasing in his voice.
“I take it back, any more compliments are going to go to your head,” you huff out.
As you get closer to your parents’ house, you start to bounce your knee with an excess of nervous energy. It’s not until Joshua reaches a hand out to take one of yours that you’re even sure you’re doing it. There’s something calming about it, though. Nothing about him reaching out feels like he’s trying to stop you, just show that you’re not alone in this. Which is more than welcome. The last person you brought to meet your parents was Johnny. Given how that ended and why Joshua is around in the first place, it’s not exactly the most comforting thought.
Once you pull up to their house, you take a deep breath. It’s only to settle your rising nerves, but it also serves to give Joshua enough time to come and open your door. Even though you’ve told him that he doesn’t need to be this sweet, he insists. Without saying a word, he holds out a hand to help you out of the car. Instead of dropping your hand once you’re out, he uses it to pull you into him and wraps his arms around you. There’s this immediate sense of comfort, like you have actually been dating for months. You inhale his cologne without meaning to, something warm and woodsy.
“It’s going to be fine, parents love me,” he assures you when you pull away.
“I don’t doubt that,” you say, releasing the breath you were holding and your tension with it.
“So come on, my little granola wrapper, let’s go,” Joshua says as he lets you go to get the gifts out of his backseat.
It takes you a full few seconds to register what came out of his mouth. “I’m sorry, what did you just call me?”
“Is that not the one?” he asks, eyes alight with some kind of mischief.
“I’m not going to encourage this,” you huff.
“Whatever you say, jellybean,” he throws out casually.
The second you step into the house, you see exactly what Joshua means. Your mother is fawning over him in a matter of seconds, your father is making plans to show him his records, your sister’s husband is asking when they can go out for drinks, and your sister even holds back the snark. All during the course of the pre-dinner drinks and largely, you think, due to the gifts that Joshua brought. He had a reason for the meaning behind the type of flowers for your mother, a favorite musician who swore by the scotch for your dad, and even bought the cheese board from a small business that customized things.
Dinner comes along and you still feel like you’ve barely said anything with Joshua masterfully steering the conversation. He even makes it sound good that you met on an app, with his improvised story of wanting to meet people in a new city. According to him, he wasn’t expecting to meet someone like you and was done for the second he saw you sitting at dinner. It’s something real, that you met him for dinner the first time at a fancy downtown restaurant. And you realize you never actually asked what his impression was that first night. More than once, you catch yourself watching his profile as he talks to one of your family members. Everything about him is at ease and you wonder if it really is all fake. Not that you think anything about him is disingenuous, he’s just really good at making people like him.
The only hiccup doesn’t come until your mother is pulling out dessert. According to your sister, she’s got an excellent pie in the refrigerator that you simply have to try. You’re about to say something when Joshua beats you to it.
“I don’t think my little sugarplum likes fruit pies, but it sounds amazing and I’d love a piece,” Joshua interjects smoothly.
Your sister nearly spits out her drink, whether it’s at the nickname or him speaking up for you, you’re not sure. In any other situation, you would scold him for the name, but you’re a little stunned he remembers you don’t like pie. It came up once in a rapid fire of likes and dislikes.
“You’re right, she doesn’t,” your sister agrees. “I’d almost forgotten.”
(That’s when you’re sure it was another of your sister’s tests. Trying to catch you in some kind of lie about your relationship. But, it doesn’t work and you feel a little victorious for that.)
The doorbell rings through the house and you look to your mother, silently asking if she’s expecting someone. It’s unusual for them to have company calling this late on a Friday night. It’s usually reserved for dinners with friends or family or galas. Unsurprisingly, your mother doesn’t seem to know who it could be, but disappears to answer the door all the same. When a voice drifts through from the hallway, you freeze on the spot.
“I really just came by to drop that off for my mom, I didn’t realize it was so late. I’d hate to intrude on dessert,” the guest says.
“Nonsense, you’re not interrupting,” your mother insists.
“I saw an unfamiliar car, so I figured you might have guests,” he says as they come through the doorway into the living area.
Your heart stutters a little in your chest, feels heavier for seeing him. Somehow he looks taller and broader than the last time you saw him. He’s wearing his hair shorter and he looks more mature, somehow, like he’s seen so much more of the world than when you were together. Which is probably true, if you think about it. It’s been a couple years and that means he’s had more time working with his father.
“That would be my car,” Joshua says, getting to his feet immediately and extending his hand. “I’m Joshua.”
“Johnny,” he answers and shakes Joshua’s hand. Yet, his face looks a little tense and his eyes mostly stay on you.
“It’s just family,” your mother shares, though Johnny can obviously see that himself, “since our darling daughter finally brought Joshua around to meet us.”
“I’m glad she did, dinner was wonderful and the company was even better,” Joshua says with a smile at your mother. She nearly blushes at his compliment.
“Oh, hush,” your mother says with a wave of her hand. “I was just getting some pie if you’d like to stay for a piece, Johnny. Although, I’d hate to keep you from home.”
Joshua sits back down next to you, a little closer than is strictly necessary, and puts his arm along the back of the couch behind you. You feel safe pressed up against his side like that. Johnny clears his throat when he looks away from the pair of you. “Gabby has been out of town all week, actually, so I’m going back to an empty home anyway. I’d love to stay for a piece of your famous cherry pie.”
“Great!” your mother says and disappears off into the kitchen.
“What’s got Gabby away?” your sister asks.
“Just a conference,” Johnny answers. “There was a final banquet tonight and she’ll be home tomorrow.”
“She’s busy, away this week, bachelorette next weekend,” she says offhand.
“Keeping tabs on when everything is?” you ask of your sister. She looks at you like you’re crazy and Johnny looks awkward.
“No, I was invited to it,” your sister answers evenly.
Before you can even answer, Joshua is speaking up. Probably sensing your discomfort. After all, you hadn’t gotten to tell him that Johnny’s fiance is friends with your younger sister. They had gone to school together and been close. Stealing her sister’s fiancée doesn’t seem to have impacted the friendship.
“You must be excited with the big day getting so close,” Joshua says. He moves his arm from behind you so that he can take your hand on your thigh. It makes you look down at your hands before glancing at him, only to find his gaze on you already. It also means you miss the way Johnny follows the movement.
“Uh, yeah, I mean, I’m definitely excited. It’s just been a lot of planning,” Johnny says.
“I bet,” Joshua says. “Thank you so much for inviting me, I know how stressful changes can be.”
“It’s no problem, I’m happy you’ll both be there,” Johnny says.
With almost a practiced subtlety, Joshua squeezes your hand. There’s so much in that one movement. A reassurance, a reminder to breathe, a reminder that he’s there, a promise that everything is going to be okay. Your heart hurts seeing Johnny sitting in the living room so casually as if nothing happened, but it doesn’t hurt as much as you expected. Maybe that has something to do with this impossibly kind, completely idiotic person next to you. You also can’t help the way your gaze lands on him. Just in profile, at first, before he senses your look and turns to you with a dazzling smile. It’s like there’s nobody else in the world but the two of you.
The conversation shifts slightly when your mother comes back in with a tray full of pie slices and your father comes back with whatever record he was looking for to show Joshua. Just like that, you survive your first in-person interaction with Johnny. Actually come out of it feeling like you might be able to handle this. The smile you send Joshua while he’s eating his pie is so fond that you’re not even sure who you are.
“I can’t believe you didn’t call me last night,” Jeonghan says in lieu of a hello.
“Hello to you too, I’m good, thanks for asking,” you retort.
“Greetings are for people who remember their best friends, not for people who send a single sentence recap after bringing their fake boyfriend home to meet the family,” Jeonghan states immediately.
“That’s a very long rule,” you note.
“Deserved, though,” Jeonghan says.
“I was tired, Han, it was a long night,” you explain.
“A long night where your ex showed up,” he reminds you.
“That actually wasn’t so bad,” you admit. “Joshua made it feel pretty easy.”
“Oh did he now?”
You don’t have to be in the same room as Jeonghan to hear the expression on his face when he says that. “It was just easy, Jeonghan, nothing more than that.”
“What did your parents think?” he asks, switching gears.
“They loved him, like actually loved him. My mom was enamored and kept calling him handsome. My dad was talking about music with him and making plans to go check out some acoustic music venue. Even the ice queen couldn’t find anything to fault him for,” you share.
“She’s less of an ice queen and more of a mean girl and a bitch,” Jeonghan adds.
“You said it,” you mumble.
“I mean, come on, who thinks it’s okay for their friend to sleep with their sister’s fiancé? And then stays friends with the girl?” Jeonghan gets really defensive with this. He would ride for you to the ends of the world, which you do love. Just not today.
“I don’t wanna relive that whole thing, it’s done and over. Nothing to do now,” you say, weariness seeping into your voice.
“Would you want to do anything about it?” Jeonghan asks.
“What do you mean?” You answer the question with a question.
“Like would you want to go back to when you were with Johnny?” Jeonghan asks.
You think about it for half a second. “No.”
“That was fast,” Jeonghan comments.
“What’s there to go back to? He made his choice and I’m fine, honestly. It was weird seeing him and hearing him talk about his wedding, but it wasn’t as bad as I thought,” you say.
“Is that because of your Prince Charming?” Your best friend, always doing the most, puts this question into a sing-song voice.
“He’s not a Prince Charming. You’re so annoying,” you scoff.
“I don’t know, he sure seems to be saving you,” Jeonghan presses.
“I can’t with…” you start, trailing off at the knock on your door.
“Who’s there?” Jeonghan asks.
“No clue,” you answer, getting off your couch to go see.
“I bet it’s Prince Charming,” Jeonghan laughs out.
“Would you fuck…” you begin as you open the door to find the very subject of your conversation on the other side, “off.”
“I’m right aren’t I?” Jeonghan is nearly shrieking with glee.
“Sorry, gotta go,” you say.
“Oh no, no, no,” Jeonghan tries.
You’re stepping aside to let Joshua into your apartment. “I’ll see you tomorrow for brunch.”
“Let me know if I need to add one more to the reservation,” Jeonghan says.
“Goodbye,” you say with an eye roll Jeonghan can’t see, but will surely hear. You hang up as soon as he also says goodbye.
“Jeonghan?” Joshua guesses.
“Unfortunately,” you confirm.
“I hope I wasn’t interrupting,” Joshua says. It’s nothing like when someone says it out of forced courtesy. He actually seems like he’s making sure he’s not intruding.
“No, not at all, I just wasn’t expecting you,” you admit.
“Sometimes that’s the best time to come over,” Joshua says with a shrug.
“Does that mean you have a plan?” you wonder.
“Yup,” Joshua says.
“Gonna tell me what it is?” you ask.
“Nope,” he says with a concerning smile, popping the end of nope. “Go put on something comfortable but with layers. And we’re not going hiking or anything like that.”
An hour later, you’re pulling off the road in an area you’ve never been to, even with as long as you’ve lived here. The views are instantly enough to take your breath away. You can see the whole city below you, all the bustle of traffic and skyscrapers. Somewhere, you know there are people rushing to and fro, too busy to stop and appreciate what’s around them. Straight ahead, you can see the way the low clouds glide around, splitting around the very tops of the buildings. It’s beautiful and it also makes you realize just how small you are.
While you’ve been appreciating the views in front of you, Joshua has been gathering his supplies from the trunk. By the time you turn around, he’s laying a blanket and basket down on the ground in front of the car.
“Is this…did you set up a picnic?” you ask.
“I wanted to show you this place and figured some food might be nice,” he says with an easy smile.
“That’s so sweet,” you say earnestly.
You settle on the blanket next to him and look through the food he’s pulling out. There are some of your favorite things and some things you’re not even sure you’ve seen before. Somehow, though, you feel like they might become some of your new favorites. He even brought plates and he sets about putting one together for you to pick at.
Joshua tells you about how this is his favorite place and he found it completely by accident. He loves being down in the city and around all the people, but there’s something nice about seeing things from this perspective too. It’s like he can just disconnect for a while. Turn off his phone. Read or listen to music. Just be totally alone. It’s how he works through a problem or gets the perspective he needs.
“I can’t believe you’re sharing it with me,” you admit and his eyes light up with his smile.
“I just thought, after last night, you might appreciate having a place to get away from it all,” Joshua says.
You want to say something, anything, really, to acknowledge what Joshua just said. Try to say something. Your throat doesn’t want to cooperate, it seems. Your brain, either. In fact, all you can manage to do is turn away to hide the tears. Joshua is observant, though. He doesn’t say anything, just pulls you into his chest and runs his hand along your back. He quietly soothes you as you cry out a lot of emotions you didn’t even realize you were experiencing.
And something about him comforting you, this near stranger who doesn’t actually owe you anything, sets you off more. In the early days of your relationship with Johnny, you know it was good. It must have been. Surely, it was more than a relationship between two people who had known each other for years with families that were intertwined. You don’t remember it anymore. Don’t remember him ever holding you like this without even knowing what was wrong. Don’t remember him taking you on a date like this just because he thought you would enjoy it. Since you haven’t seriously dated anyone since the break-up, he also feels like your only frame of reference. That makes you sad for an entirely different reason. Who loses it over someone just being a little kind?
“I’m so sorry,” you finally say when you manage to pull yourself together.
“For what?” he asks.
“For just crying like that and being such a mess,” you say.
Joshua shakes his head. Moves his hand up to your face and waits for confirmation that it’s okay. When you nod, he gently wipes the tears from under your eyes. “You have nothing to apologize for. What you’re going through with your ex, most of us could never even imagine that kind of pain.”
“But still, you barely know me and here you are trying to be kind and all I can do is cry,” you say.
“First of all, I think last night and the food I put together show I’ve actually learned a lot about you in a short time,” he says and you have to laugh at that. He’s right. “Second, I’m just happy you feel safe enough with me to cry. It’s not healthy to hold all that in. You’re not in this alone.”
That brings you up short more than anything. He’s right, again (an annoying habit, if you’re being honest). You don’t feel any hesitation around him. Nothing to stop you from crying if you feel like crying. That’s unusual, to say the least. Normally, you’ll do anything to avoid anyone seeing you emotional. But, this man you just met is different. He’s safe. You’re not sure how or why, but you know you can trust him.
“Are you free tomorrow for brunch?” you ask. Joshua gives you a quizzical look for a moment at the sudden topic change.
“Yeah, why?” he asks.
“I just need to send one quick text and then I want to do what you said you normally do here. Disconnect from the world and just appreciate the afternoon,” you say and find yourself smiling along with his smile. He really is so beautiful.
You: add one to the reservation for brunch tomorrow and i’ll call you tonight when i’m home
You switch your phone into Do Not Disturb before the response comes and turn all your attention back to Joshua.
Over the next couple weeks, Joshua slips seamlessly into your life and your existing friendships. Some of them, like those closest to you that come along to the Sunday brunches, know the whole story. It’s not like they would believe you had kept a relationship secret for that long, anyway. And it’s good to have a few extra sets of eyes and ears helping to sell the story. Other friends get the same story that your family and Johnny got. It’s not that you don’t trust them, you do. It’s more important to keep the circle of people who know the real story as small as possible, though, so that it actually succeeds. All your friends adore him from the second they meet him. The only surprise is how well Jeonghan seems to be adjusting to sharing your time. He wants to give you a hard time, yet he doesn’t.
You meet all Joshua’s friends and coworkers, too. It feels way easier than it should the first time you join him and his coworkers after work for drinks. They spend most of the time giving Joshua a hard time that he’s kept you to himself for so long. It’s easy to fall into step and you find that you do know him a lot better than you think. So, it’s just as easy for you to jump in when they’re giving him a hard time. He pretends to be annoyed, but you can tell by the way he smiles that he likes it. It’s one of those genuine smiles that makes his eyes bigger and brighter. Everything just feels…easy. Like this whole thing wasn’t actually a bad idea after all.
Your favorite part might be the first time you got with him to an Open Mic Night and get to see him play. He’s got that easy kind of confidence on the guitar. Like he knows he’s talented, but not in a cocky way. It’s his singing that catches you off guard. His voice moves over the notes with an ease that makes you wonder why this isn’t something he’s doing for a living. He’s got this way of pulling you into songs that you don’t even know. And he’s so kind with the people that show up just to see him play. They all seem just as happy to meet you and know that he’s happy.
There’s only been one part that’s been difficult. Not difficult, exactly, but not as comfortable as some of the other things. While you and Joshua talked through anything and everything to prepare to start a fake relationship, you covered comfort levels with physical affection. You both say you’re comfortable with physical touch, though he seems to seek it out more than you do. That includes at least some level of PDA as a couple. You’ve never really been one to just randomly make out with a partner in public, but you’ve never been shy about expressing affection either. It was fine, when it was all theoretical.
In actual practice, it’s been a little more difficult. The first time Joshua had pressed a kiss to the side of your head while you were out with people that didn’t know it was fake caught you off guard. It shouldn’t have, he asked before doing it and you confirmed it was fine. What you hadn’t been entirely prepared for was how it would feel when he did it. Or how it would feel that he was so casual about it, like it was the most normal thing in the world. Like it wasn’t making you rethink everything in your life.
Tonight, you’re hanging out with friends at Hyejin’s house. You and her have been friends since before you even started school. So, she knows what’s really going on with Joshua. Your other friends there, though, are mostly not in on it. Which is fine. You’re shockingly comfortable with the song and dance.
It’s not actually fine.
It starts the same as any other time you’ve been out somewhere with him. You’re sitting close together on the couch, thighs pressed together, with his arm behind you along the back of the couch. Periodically, his fingers play with the sleeve of your shirt. It’s an absentminded habit and you’re used to it. He’s usually keeping some sort of contact with you in a very subtle way. You learned right away that he did like physical touch, but it was rarely something obvious. One drink in and his affection got a little more obvious. Arm wrapped firmly around you. More kisses pressed to the side of your head.
Two drinks in and it changes again. He removes his arm from around you in favor of holding your hand. Playing with your fingers while he’s having other conversations, like he doesn’t even realize. Hand squeezing your thigh. Or tracing patterns into the material of your pants. Head dropping down on your shoulder when he’s not talking to someone else. And it’s definitely not fine. You’re nursing your drink, but even if you weren’t, his constant presence would sober you. Since you’ve just finally finished your first, you think maybe a second is a good idea.
It’s not. Joshua gets another drink, his third, and you decline. Instead, you stick with the water you’ve been drinking since you couldn’t even finish your second. You want to be able to respond, whatever happens. Respond to whatever new form of affection unlocks with this next drink.
“I hope you stick around, you’re my favorite of the partners that we’ve met,” Mimi announces to Joshua when he plops back down next to you.
You’re glad that you hadn’t taken a sip because it would’ve come out immediately. Mimi has been a friend for a long time as well, and you love her, but she doesn’t know the truth.
“Don’t I know it,” Joshua agrees, earning a lot of laughter.
“Have you met Johnny yet? I know you’re going to the wedding,” Taehyung wonders.
“Yeah Johnny showed up magically the night I brought him by to meet my parents, sister, and brother-in-law,” you say, regaining some composure.
“I think you traded up,” Joshua says, eyes laser focused on you.
You’re not so lucky this time and you just took a sip. You nearly choke. “Do you?”
“Definitely,” Joshua insists.
“I agree,” Jimin says and Mimi elbows him in the side. “What?”
“You’re going to the wedding,” she says.
“So? He’s a fucking tool,” Jimin shrugs off.
“Are you all going, then?” Joshua asks.
“A good portion of us, yeah,” Hyejin says. “Family connections, you know?”
“I wasn’t invited,” Mimi pouts.
“Want to come?” Taehyung asks and Mimi laughs.
“Tae, my love, you can’t just invite people,” Mimi says and shakes her head.
“I have a plus-one,” Taehyung says with a shrug. “I think we all knew I wouldn’t make it to the wedding in my relationship. But, Johnny still thinks I’m bringing someone.”
“Damn, okay. I’m in,” Mimi says.
“I’m not going either, my family ties weren’t enough to get an invite,” Jeonghan says without any sorrow in his eyes.
“That’s because of what you said to him after the break up,” Hyejin interrupts with a laugh.
“I don’t remember saying anything that bad,” Jeonghan shrugs, and examines his finger nails to show how little he cares.
“Remind me to show you what he said some time, it was fucking gold,” Hyejin says to Joshua.
“Do you have it saved?” you ask.
“I should have it framed, honestly,” Hyejin says. “Get you a best friend like Jeonghan, for real, for real.”
“Hey, that’s my best friend, get your own,” you joke.
“That’s a shame you won’t be there though, Han, I could’ve used the familiar face,” Joshua says.
“Like you’re going to be paying attention to anyone but your date,” Hyejin teases.
“Can you blame me? I still can’t believe how lucky I got,” Joshua says without any hint that he’s pretending. It makes your heart skip a couple beats as you try to catch your breath.
“Ugh, I’m so single,” Mimi whines.
“Maybe not after the wedding,” Hyejin teases.
The conversations devolve from there into separate, smaller chats. Joshua is back to tracing patterns into your leg. Without warning, he pops his head up and places a quick peck on your lips before dropping his head onto your shoulder again. He’s so nonchalant about it that you’re not really sure it even happened. You’ve kissed a couple times like that, quick pecks in public. But, it’s always been when you’ve talked about it. It isn’t until you look up to meet Jeonghan’s eyes that you know it all really happened.
Joshua, unaware that he’s just turned your world a little upside down, moves his head to look at you again. “You’re beautiful, you know.”
It’s barely a whisper and you know he’s not drunk. He’s not sober either, though. And you’ve had drinks around each other before. He’s just never been quite so glued to your side or free with the compliments. You’re also not usually so singularly focused on him. A fact that doesn’t go entirely unnoticed.
“Thank you,” you whisper back.
“I’m kinda hungry,” he continues in a bit of a whine.
“Well you were the one who thought skipping dinner was smart,” you tease him.
“But my little honeybunch,” he teases back. You snort and miss the way several of your friends watch the interaction because they know how you are about weird pet names.
“Try again, sweetheart,” you answer.
“Sweetheart, I like the way that sounds,” he says, distracted.
“Just a little longer and we can leave and get something to eat,” you say and he sighs.
“Fine,” he concedes and kisses your cheek, just barely a whisper away from the corner of your mouth.
About half an hour later, you say your goodbyes. Despite your suggestions, Joshua continued drinking instead of switching to water. It’s as fine as it can be, though. He’s just an affectionate drinker. He wraps an arm around you, slipping a hand into your back pocket so that he can whisper thanks again. You do your best to shrug it off and let him drape his arms around your shoulder instead.
The car ride is quiet, initially. You pick a playlist that he made for you after you first met. Something he seems to enjoy. You’re nearly back at his place when he says that he doesn’t have anything to eat. But, luckily, there’s a place around the corner that he loves that’s still open. He manages to place an order on the app, gets something for you as well, and pays before getting there. All you have to do is walk in.
“I hope you’ll come in and eat with me,” he says when you get back into the car.
You’re not really sure how to tell him that you don’t want to. Not because you don’t want to spend time with him. Or that you don’t appreciate him ordering something he knows you’ll like. No, it’s so much deeper than that. It’s that you don’t know if your heart can handle it. You’ve got a couple more weeks of this and your heart is taking a beating. All of this is fake. It’ll be over after the wedding. But, the compliments don’t feel fake. The kisses don’t feel fake. The affection doesn’t feel fake. Your heart racing is real, oh so real. You don’t need anyone to tell you that you’re in way too deep.
None of that comes out, though.
“Sure, sweetheart,” you say and hold your breath for a second. You hadn’t meant to say that when it was just you.
Joshua smiles over at you. “Really do like that.”
Does he know what he’s doing to you? Can he hear your heart hammering in your chest? Can he hear your breath catch? Does he know how insanely beautiful he is? Or that he’s all the more beautiful because he’s so unfailingly kind?
Probably not, because he gets distracted and starts singing along as the song changes. It’s welcome, but also a little devastating. His voice cuts through you in a way you’re still very unprepared to handle.
After another few minutes, you’re at Joshua’s place. He springs back into action and tries to open your door for you, even though you’re the driver. He settles for taking hold of your hand as he walks to his door, only reluctantly dropping it when he gets to the door.
His apartment is familiar to you, it has to be for this to be believable. So, he sets the food out and you grab plates. You grab a couple waters from the fridge while he takes the food over to the couch, bypassing the table. You sit next to him, leaving enough space between you that you’re not touching. Hoping he doesn’t think anything of it.
It’s useless, apparently, because he slides over to press into your side.
What’s worse (not that you thought that was possible) is that he picks things off of your plate and gives you food off his plate. Tries to feed it to you, actually, and pouts when you don’t let him. It takes everything in you not to beg him to be gentle on your heart. He doesn’t even seem to realize what he’s doing to you as he smiles and jokes. Doesn’t seem to think twice about playing with your hands or his hand on your leg or any of the things he usually does when you have an audience. There’s nobody here to see and he’s not usually this touchy when you’re alone. Maybe it’s the drinks.
“I like your friends a lot, you know,” he says out of nowhere.
“They like you, too,” you assure him.
“What about you?” he asks.
“I’d assume they like me as well,” you laugh out.
“No, I meant me. Do you like me?” he asks, eyes big and vulnerable.
Please, Joshua, I’m begging you. Be gentle with me, you think so loud you’re worried he might hear.
“I’m actually a little sick of you,” you joke.
“But, but,” he begins and dramatically throws himself in your lap.
“You’re the worst,” you say without any bite. Your hands find their way into his hair, softly running through the strands.
“That feels nice,” he says softly. “Can I just stay like this? I’m tired.”
“Of course,” you whisper.
“You’ll stay with me?” he asks, sounding like he’s about to drift off.
You’re sure he won’t remember any of this. Not because he’s drunk, but he’s on the edges of sleep. So, you answer in a whisper. “Always.”
Maybe he’s not the one that needs to be careful with your heart. Maybe it’s you that needs to be careful. You know that you could walk away. That you could just remind him that this is all fake and there’s nobody around to see now. That’s not what you do. So, maybe you’re just as much to blame.
Sunday
Joshua: thanks for taking care of me last night
Joshua: idk why the drinks hit me so hard
Joshua: when did you leave?
Monday
Joshua: is everything okay? Did i say something stupid?
Tuesday
Joshua: i don’t wanna sound clingy but are we still getting together at your place after work?
Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you know that you need to respond. You know that what you’re doing isn’t fair to anyone. It’s not like Joshua can somehow read your mind to realize you’re spiraling. It just feels a little paralyzing. This is a weird limbo of knowing you might be in over your head, but still believing this is all fake.
Jeonghan: hey dummy i know you’re ignoring joshua so i’m coming over tonight
Jeonghan: i told him you’ve been busy at work and i haven’t heard from you either but we have some talking to do
Leave it to Jeonghan. You had almost forgotten, with how well you’ve gotten to know Joshua, that it was Jeonghan who introduced you in the first place. Of course he would text your best friend when he couldn’t get a hold of you. Does that make you feel better? Not really, you think, because it feels like a real relationship in a way. Oh well, you can talk about it with Jeonghan. If he shows up, that is.
And he does, less than an hour later.
“I’m here,” he announces when he comes in the door.
“Thanks for knocking and giving me the chance to pretend I’m not here,” you call back.
“Your car is outside and you have your location turned on,” Jeonghan says.
“Right,” you answer as he comes through the hall holding a bag from your favorite take out place.
“At least I come bearing gifts,” he says.
“You’re an angel, do you know that?” you ask and reach for the bag.
Jeonghan snorts. “I’m gonna remind you of that the next time you call me a demon.”
“Well, Lucifer was a fallen angel,” you reason with a shrug.
“I hate you,” he says.
“I know,” you answer.
Jeonghan busies himself with taking out the food and making sure you have napkins. Tells you what he wants to drink when you get up to go into the kitchen. Calls for you to grab some utensils as well. By the time you sit back down with him, he’s flipping through a streaming service trying to find something to watch. It’s not at all what you’re expecting and you just let it happen. The two of you have been friends long enough to know you should just let things play out.
With some mindless show on in the background, Jeonghan talks about work and your friends and everything else that’s been going on the past few days. Like it’s been weeks since you last saw him. Mostly, he talks about how Taehyung has been blowing up his phone asking for advice about Mimi, which is actually news to you. Sure, you saw him ask her if she wanted to go with him to the wedding. What you had not expected was for him to actually be interested. Which he is, if his messages to Jeonghan are anything to go by. It’s been everything from advice about talking to her to what kinds of things she might like as a surprise. They would probably be cute, you think.
“Yeah, well, sometimes feelings catch us off guard,” Jeonghan says when you admit your surprise.
Damn. Did you really walk right into that?
“True,” you admit, knowing that’s the best answer you can give.
“Talk to me,” Jeonghan urges.
“About what?” you ask to buy more time.
“Joshua,” he says.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” you state. That makes him fix you with a look.
“Clearly there is or you wouldn’t be ignoring him,” he says.
“We’re not really dating so I don’t owe him constant updates. I’m not ignoring him. I just have other shit to do,” you say without looking at him.
“Would you like to be?” he asks. That does make you turn to him.
“Like to be what?” you ask, though you think you know.
“Really dating him,” Jeonghan says.
It’s a crossroads kind of moment. You could say that you don’t want that. That would be a lie, though, and Jeonghan doesn’t like it when you lie. Can always tell the second you say something that’s not true. The truth is that you’ve spent nearly every moment since that stupid night at Hyejin’s place thinking about what you actually feel for your fake boyfriend.
“I don’t…know,” you say slowly and earn a smile because it’s not a lie.
“I was there the other night too, I saw the way it all played out,” he says.
“I mean, does it matter? This is all fake and soon, it’ll be over,” you say.
“Of course it matters and it’ll be over soon? Please,” Jeonghan scoffs. “I know he’s told you that he wants to keep you in his life after Johnny’s wedding. So, what? You’re just gonna be like okay, that was fun, let’s never talk again?”
“I don’t know, maybe,” you say quietly.
He rolls his eyes. “Try again, buttercup.”
“It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t like me like that, he’s just nice,” you say, avoidant as ever.
“He looks at you like he’d give you the moon if you asked for it,” Jeonghan snorts out.
“He’s just nice, Han,” you disagree.
“Maybe,” your closest friend concedes, a rare move for him. It feels weird all the same. “Whatever it is, text him back. He misses you and I don’t want to hear anymore about how he’s worrying he upset you.”
“He’s been worrying that he upset me?” you ask. Your heart constricts at that.
“Yeah, for some reason he actually likes your company,” he says. “Can’t relate.”
You smack Jeonghan on the arm. “Says the man who shows up at my place unannounced when I ignore him for a day.”
“No, I was just bored,” he argued. “And you’re way too stubborn to sort out your shit on your own.”
“I’m not stubborn, but fine, I’ll text him,” you relent.
“Now,” he says.
“What?”
“Text him now so that I know you actually did it.”
You roll your eyes at him, but pull your phone out anyway. Angling it away from Jeonghan so that he can’t see your screen. He’s such a nosy brat sometimes.
You: hey, i’m sorry. It’s been really busy and i had a lot on my mind
You: wanna do something tomorrow?
The response comes right away and you ignore the smug look on Jeonghan’s face as you quickly make plans. If Jeonghan was anyone else, he would probably just let you be since he ultimately got what he wanted. But, he’s not anyone else. And he’s as caring to his friends as he is calculating when he wants something. So, he’s not doing it to be cruel, not at all. He just wants you to consider what you’re actually feeling.
You’ll never tell Jeonghan how much you appreciate him talking everything through with you. Never tell him how good it feels to get all the thoughts out of your head. To his credit, he’s not smug and he doesn’t tell you that he’s been right about your feelings all along. He just listens, supports you when you need it, and encourages you to keep thinking through everything that’s going on.
As a make-up for slightly ignoring Joshua (over your own internal freak out), you take him to dinner at your favorite restaurant. It’s this tiny little hole-in-the-wall that people seem to walk past. The kind of place where you couldn’t overspend even if you tried because the couple that owned it just wanted to share good food. The kind of place where they know everyone by name. It makes you feel instantly at ease.
Joshua doesn’t say it, but he also kind of can’t believe you wanted to show him some place that meant so much to you. All he could do was watch, with so much fondness, as you spoke to the couple about everything under the sun. Watch as you turned slightly red when they scolded you for taking so long to bring Joshua by. Smile as you promised the both of you would be back. Despite trying to pay, you beat him to it. Even leaving a massive tip because you insisted the couple had undercharged you. They made a big show of not wanting to take the tip and you only reminded them the cash would stay sitting on the counter. You weren’t taking it back either.
You don’t really think about it when you take a picture of you and Joshua to upload on Instagram. At least, you try not to. Later, when you’re home and winding down for the night, you pull the picture back up. It’s amazing just how happy both of you look. You don’t need to read the comments to know that you’ve never looked so happy in your life. Every part of you wants to pull back again. It’s overwhelming. But, Jeonghan’s voice plays in your head and instead you push past. Make more plans that could break your heart. You have to just trust that he won’t.
It isn’t until the weekend that you’re able to see him again because your schedules didn’t quite match up. That doesn’t stop him from calling you at night, though. Insisting that he wants to know how your day was, even if you can only spare a few minutes for a call. (Which never ends up being the case. You fall asleep on the phone with him twice. His voice is just so soothing when it’s all deep and soft.)
Again, Joshua tells you the date is a surprise. He can be a little bit of a demon, when it suits him. Sure, he likes to pretend he’s not. That he’s above the chaos. Then, he does something like this and he can’t really escape it. But, he’s so sure he knows what you like that he’s positive you’ll enjoy the date. You remember how that chat had gone, too. You were ready to go to sleep, but unable to say goodnight.
(“I have our next date planned,” Joshua says, voice soft to match the calm of the night.
“What is it?” you wonder.
“A surprise,” he answers.
“What if I don’t like it?” you ask back.
“You will,” he assures you.
“You sure seem to think you know me,” you joke.
“Yeah, I do. Don’t worry, you’ll like this too,” he says.
There was no point in denying it. That confidence sent a bit of a shiver through you.)
It turns out that the date is at a winery where you’re painting with wine. You have to ask him to say it again because you’ve only ever heard of wine and paint classes. Painting with wine is entirely new to you. It sounds fun, though, and you know how crafty Joshua can be, have seen all the projects around his apartment. So, even though you’re definitely not that artistic, you’re excited to see this as well.
Admittedly, by the end of the session, your painting isn’t bad. It was a bit weird to use wine in that way, but they let you drink as well. Which makes it a lot easier to just go along with the idea of painting. Joshua’s painting, on the other hand, is beautiful. Not for the first time, you think his talents might be wasted at an office job. You’ve seen the bracelets he makes and now you’ve seen him paint. You’ve heard him sing and play the guitar. He’s impossibly artistic in a way that should make you jealous. Instead, it just makes you more endeared to him.
You snap a picture of him and his art when he’s not looking and upload it before he can even realize it. It’s only when a notification goes off on his phone that he realizes. He doesn’t even say anything, just gets a sparkle in his eyes that makes you weary immediately. He’s busy tapping away on his own phone before a notification sounds on yours. Maybe you weren’t the only one to steal a candid shot if the picture of you laughing with a glass of wine in one hand and a paintbrush in the other is anything to go by. It’s the caption that really ruins you, though. Just a simple “think I’m addicted to her light”. It’s so simple and also so much sweeter than yours. You fight through the urge to run away.
Which lasts until you get home from dinner. It was the perfect date, truly. Joshua always seems to know exactly how to plan out a day so everything works. After sipping wine and painting, he took you to one of his favorite restaurants. Nothing too pretentious, just kind of unassuming. The kind of place where you get good food and even better conversation. It’s (mostly) easy to keep your mind off the way your heart keeps racing.
When you’re back home, you’re not so lucky.
Back home, alone in your apartment, there aren’t any distractions. Nothing to stop your mind from all the ways that it can sabotage your own happiness. Nothing to stop you from thinking about how nobody, not even Johnny, has ever planned out such thoughtful dates for you. Nobody has ever taken the time to really know you like Joshua. Even if you won’t admit it, he knows you better than anyone you’ve ever dated. Which is terrifying, since this is all fake. And he hasn’t even known you that long.
So, you do the rational thing and you pull back again. Answer his texts so that he doesn’t send Jeonghan over to figure out what’s wrong, but don’t make solid plans. Talk a lot about a work project that you really need to get done ahead of schedule so that you’re not stressing leading up to the wedding. And you throw in some easy suggestions in the meantime so that it still seems like you’re making an effort.
Lunch on a work day so that it has a set ending time. Which still tugs at your heartstrings a bit because he takes a longer lunch just to meet you closer to where you work.
An event where your parents purchased a table for charity because he’s in high demand with your family around. And he can’t be as affectionate.
His Open Mic Nights, but with the excuse that you can’t stay too late because of your project and he should stick around with his friends. You’ll get home safely.
Small little things that keep you around him and keep up your conversations while still giving you time to breathe. You’re sure that you’re pulling it all off. And then, the wedding is around the corner. The finish line is in sight.
You: I’m not going to the wedding
You: you don’t have to come pick me up
Joshua: what are you talking about?
You: i’m not going
Joshua: but it’s literally in a few hours?
You: yeah and i don’t wanna go, so you’re off the hook
You: thanks for everything, but you don’t have to pretend anymore
Even if you know you’re being a little petulant, you don’t really care. This whole thing was supposed to be about protecting your heart. Protecting your pride. Not showing up to your cheating ex-fiance's wedding alone and looking like some kind of loser. It was not supposed to be about your heart getting clobbered anyway. So, you’re doing the only logical thing you can think of. Ignoring your problems. Avoiding both the wedding and Joshua. What you’re not prepared for, though you should be, is the knock that comes at your door half an hour later.
Joshua is on the other side of the door and your heart actually stops. He’s got his tux on and his hair styled back off his face. His eyes are soft as they take you in, noting that you have your hair and make up done. Though, you’re still in your sweats. You got at least that far before you decided this was a stupid fucking decision.
“Can I come in?” he asks when you don’t say anything.
“Sure,” you say and step aside.
“You look like you’re getting ready,” he comments once he’s inside.
“I was, until I texted you,” you answer. “Speaking of, why are you here?”
“Because we had plans,” he says.
“Yeah to go see my ex-fiance marry the girl he cheated on me with. Oh, and for you to pretend to be my boyfriend so I didn’t look pathetic,” you say with a huff.
“You’re not pathetic. He’s an asshole,” Joshua says. He doesn’t swear often, so it catches you a little off guard.
“Well, whatever, you don’t have to go. So, I’m not really sure why you’re here,” you say.
“You’re being so cold. What’s going on?” Joshua asks and reaches out to you. Instead, you duck away from his touch.
“Nothing is going on. It was stupid to care what Johnny thought or to try and save face somehow,” you say.
“It’s not stupid. He hurt you and you didn’t deserve that,” Joshua urges.
“You really don’t know me that well. Maybe I did deserve it. Maybe I was awful to him and he had no choice,” you say.
“We both know that’s not true,” he says.
“Do we?” you challenge.
“Yes, we do,” he presses. “There is nothing you could do that justifies cheating instead of just breaking it off. But, I also know you didn’t do anything wrong. Jeonghan and I talked about it.”
“You spoke to Jeonghan about my relationship behind my back?” you question.
“What is going on? We’ve been hanging out for weeks and getting to know each other. I just wanted to know more about someone I was going to be helping. And I like knowing you,” Joshua says and you have to look away. You don’t need the reminder of how much time you’ve spent with him.
“Yeah, sorry about all that time we wasted. I’ll pay you back for the tux or anything else you had to buy to pretend to date me,” you say and he looks genuinely confused.
“I don’t…want you to pay me back for anything. It wasn’t a waste of time. I did this because I wanted to,” he says.
“Yeah, well, you don’t have to pretend anymore because I’m not going to the stupid fucking wedding. It was a really bad idea in the first place,” you say.
Joshua clenches his jaw and looks away. Like maybe he’s frustrated. “What is going on? Do you still have feelings for him?”
“For who? Johnny?” you ask, so insanely caught off guard that you forget you’re mad.
“Yes,” Joshua says tightly.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you bark out.
“Well? You’re being really weird and now you don’t want to go to a wedding that we’ve been planning on,” he starts.
“Yeah, which should make you happy, since you don’t have to pretend to be my boyfriend anymore,” you say.
“Because you’re still in love with Johnny,” Joshua finishes like he hadn’t even heard you.
“Oh my god,” you nearly scream. “I’m not fucking in love with Johnny. This isn’t about him.”
“So, you don’t want to go to the wedding and it has nothing to do with him? That doesn’t make any sense,” he says.
“No, I don’t want to keep doing this,” you say, gesturing between the two of you. “I don’t want to keep pretending to date you when I -”
You clamp your mouth shut. Unable to believe that you almost blurted out how you feel.
“When you what?” he challenges. “What? Is it that bad being around me? Is that it? Are you just sick of me? Ready to toss me aside?”
You laugh bitterly, not even able to appreciate the irony in the situation. “No, Joshua, I don’t want to toss you aside.”
“Then, what? What am I supposed to think when you’ve been pushing me away for the last couple weeks? And I have to act like I haven’t noticed all the ways you’ve kept me at arm’s length since we went to the winery. Why did you just decide, literally today, that you don’t want to go to the wedding after all?” he asks, rambling. He’s pacing in front of you. “Why are you trying so hard to get rid of me?”
“Because I don’t want to get hurt!” you blurt out. “Because I don’t want to go to my fucking scumbag of an ex’s wedding where everyone is going to be giving me these looks of pity or focusing on my relationship with him when all I want is this.”
“This? What?” he asks, coming to a stop.
“This, Joshua, you and me. Having this just all be pretend is breaking my heart. I can’t keep doing it. It was supposed to keep me from getting my heart broken. It sucks and I hate it and I just wish it wasn’t pretend. I don’t want to go to the wedding and have you be so sweet and kind and caring when I’m going to know it has an expiration date. That it’s all just been for show,” you admit. You turn away, clutching your arms around your center because you’re so tired. And so exposed. So vulnerable. It’s awful.
The tears won’t stop, so you don’t notice how Joshua has closed the space between you until he wraps his arms around you from behind. Pulls you back against his chest and presses a kiss into your hair.
“So, let’s stop saying it’s pretend,” he whispers.
“What?” you whisper back.
He turns you in his arms so that you’re facing him and gently brushes away the tears. “Let’s stop saying it’s fake. It doesn’t feel fake, does it?”
“No,” is all you can manage.
“So, it’s not fake and we’re not pretending,” he says.
“But,” you start to protest.
“I knew I was in trouble, really deep trouble, as soon as we left your parents’ house. I was just waiting for you to catch up,” he says as he gently runs a thumb across your cheek to wipe away a tear . Your eyes go wide.
“That was barely a week in,” you say and he just shrugs. “And I’d dumped all my bullshit on you.”
“I think that’s actually what made me like you so much,” he says. “It was supposed to be fake and we were trying to get to know each other well enough to pull it off. But, instead, I just realized you were actually perfect.”
“Perfect? I was broken,” you joke and he shakes his head.
“No, you’ve been hurt. Who hasn’t? You’re also strong, kind, funny, a fiercely loyal friend, and one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever met, inside and out,” he says.
“That’s so, you’re so sweet,” you say and try to hide your face. He doesn’t let you. “You like me?”
“I’ve liked you the whole time. I did think it was a date, after all,” he says. “And do you think I’m that affectionate with everyone?”
“We were pretending,” you argue.
“I wasn’t,” he argues back.
“Our closest friends thought you were,” you disagree.
“And was anyone else there in my apartment when I was still being affectionate?” he asks.
“Well, no, but…” you start.
“I heard you say always,” he tells you.
“You did?” you ask, sure that it’s been your secret this whole time.
“We don’t have to go to the wedding. But, if it’s just because you don’t want this to be over with me, then it’s not going to be over. I’m yours for as long as you want me,” he says so earnestly it nearly makes you blush.
“Careful, you might get sick of me,” you joke.
He puts a finger under your chin so he can look you in the eyes. “I’ll say it again. I’m yours as long as you want me. I won’t get sick of you.”
“I…” you start and don’t know where to go. So you do the only thing you can think of and kiss him. It’s clear he’s a little caught off guard, but he recovers quickly. His arms wrap around you to hold you tight against him. It’s the first time you’ve really kissed him and you’re so screwed because he really is perfect at this too.
“So, do I get you for the rest of today?” he asks.
You take in his tuxedo again, for real this time. Appreciating how well it’s tailored and how amazing he looks. With a sigh, you say, “you know, it’s a shame to waste such a nice tux.”
“Are you…I thought we weren’t going,” he stutters.
“I’m probably gonna have to fix my makeup in the car, but why not? I want to show off my super hot and very real boyfriend,” you say and watch him choke on air.
“You can’t just say…” he starts.
“Damn, sick of me already?” you tease.
“You know I’m not,” he answers and moves to follow you.
“No, no. You don’t get to see me changing. I’ll be back out in a second,” you say.
You’re in the middle of shimmying into your dress when you realize that you do still have a lot to talk about. A lot to figure out. This whole situation has been unusual, though, so it probably makes sense that there isn’t a template. Once you have your shoes on, you walk back into the living room, prepared to say something, only to find Joshua speechless.
“You look…” he starts.
“You’ve seen the dress already,” you say and smile.
“Not on you. Not in person. You look amazing,” he says and crosses to pull you into his arms. “Are you sure we have to go?”
“Yes,” you say and swat him. “But, I do know we have a lot to talk about.”
“I’m not in a rush,” he says and allows you to step away.
“We might need to be in a bit of a rush,” you say, checking the time and gathering all your things.
“Let’s go, then,” Joshua says and offers his arm.
The wedding passes in kind of a blur. In truth, you barely even register Johnny or what he’s doing beyond the actual ceremony. The reception is so massive that it’s easiest just to focus on the people around you. Especially when you’re at a table with your friends. Thankfully, you’re not at a table with your parents or your sister. It does mean, though, that you’re sitting next to Hyejin, who has definitely realized that something shifted between you and Joshua. So, she’s trying to sneak in a question any time she can. Which is hard, given that Joshua is more attached to you than ever. And Hyejin doesn’t want to draw unnecessary attention to you. All you manage to let her know is that it’s real now and that you’ll fill her in after the wedding. (You’re also thankful that people seem to be cooing over Taehyung and Mimi since they’re the shiny new topic.)
It’s also nice to have Joshua there because he’s a built in way to excuse yourself from any conversation that you don’t want to be part of. It’s easy to just say you’re going to go back to the table. Or, in the case of a good song coming on, he’ll be quick to drag you to the dance floor and away from whatever conversation you’re stuck in. He’s a good dancer, too. You don’t miss the way Hyejin catches your eye when the first slow song comes on and he pulls you close to him. But, that’s a conversation for another day. All you wanted was to appreciate the way his hand felt on your lower back or your hand felt in his.
When it was finally time to leave, Joshua led you out of the event, arm around you to guide you. Neither of you were drunk, but you had still hired someone to take you to and from the wedding anyway. A gift from your parents to appreciate you “doing the right thing” and coming to the wedding. For the sake of the families. It made you roll your eyes at the time, yet you’re thankful now. It would be far better than having to take an Uber or trying to get a room at the hotel (and risking seeing everyone else staying there the next morning). The ride home also gave you the chance to talk. Really talk. Neither of you cared much that someone else was driving (and he had the partition up, anyway), as you talked about your feelings honestly for the first time.
As it turned out, you had a lot to say. Both of you. You hadn’t been nearly as good at hiding your feelings from Joshua as you had been at hiding them from yourself. He had hoped you were going to admit them to him after that night at his apartment. Instead, you avoided him. Yes, he knew that you had been avoiding him. You also weren’t very good at picking up on the signs he dropped about his feelings for you. He admitted that he could have just said something, but he was trying to be subtle so he didn’t scare you off. Trying to let his actions speak through more affection. You admit you were scared to think it was anything more than it actually was. Scared of your feelings. Scared of getting hurt again. Joshua completely understands that and admits that he’s a little scared, too, because you’re definitely more important to him than he was anticipating. He’s also confident that you can work through it together. It gives you a feeling of hope. Makes everything about you feel lighter. You see that relief reflected in Joshua’s eyes when they scan yours.
The car pulls to a stop and he gets out first. He holds his hand out to help you out of the car. You’re not really sure what comes over you.
“Come up with me,” you ask, but it’s more of a statement.
He hesitates, conflicted. “I don’t know if I should.”
“Why?” you ask, clearly confused.
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to leave,” he answers and you smile.
“Then stay,” you shrug, “at least for breakfast.”
Without waiting for him to respond, you turn and head for the front door of the building. It means you miss the way he freezes in place, but you can guess at that by how long it takes before he catches up to you. He’s unusually quiet and still beside you as you go up the elevator and then behind you as you unlock the door.
“I’m gonna go change,” you announce after you drop your keys by the door. You look back at Joshua, appreciating him in the tuxedo one last time. “I’ve got some clothes in the spare room that should fit. They’re Jeonghan’s ”
You take the opportunity to breathe for a second, to let it settle in that you asked Joshua to come in with you and stay the night. Then, you set about changing out of your dress. Carefully clean your face free of the make-up. Brush through your hair and twist it back off of your face. Once you’re in comfy clothes and bare faced, you head back out into the living room. It’s odd that you don’t even feel self-conscious about Joshua seeing you like this, you’re instantly comfortable.
Joshua’s back is to you in the kitchen. When he turns around, you see that he’s put together a little platter of snacks. You also were right, the t-shirt and shorts he picked out seem to fit him well. Jeonghan is a little slighter than Joshua, but he wears most of his clothes on the baggier side.
“Thanks for the clothes,” he says when you both meet on the couch. “I was worried when you said you had spare clothes they were gonna be from an ex or Johnny or something.”
Your laugh is sudden and clearly catches Joshua off guard. “I wouldn’t have kept any of Johnny’s clothes. I gave them all to charity.”
“I’m sure he was thrilled with that,” Joshua laughs.
“They made a killing reselling them,” you laugh in response. “Wanna watch something?”
“Sure, you pick,” he says.
You start clicking through your saved list to find something that the two of you can watch. Once you settle on something, Joshua motions you over. Even if you want to pretend you’re considering it, you can’t. Every part of you wants to be close to him. When you slide over, he pulls you in tighter to his body and you fit like you always belonged there with him.
If you thought he was physically affectionate when he was pretending, it’s nothing compared to now that he knows you’re both in this. He has one hand running along your arm or the other along your thigh. Sometimes he reaches out to take one of your hands. Other times he presses kisses into your hair. It’s pretty clear right away that he’s not paying much attention to the show.
If you’re being honest, you’re not really either.
Everything is distracting. The way his fingers on the bare skin of your arm raises goosebumps. The way his kiss in your hair makes your eyes close in appreciation. The way he squeezes your thigh and short circuits your brain.
You can’t help it. You turn your head so that you can look at him. He caresses your cheek, so gentle. Runs his thumb across your lip. You’re holding your breath, just waiting to see what he’s going to do. When you feel like you’re going to go a little bit insane, his hand moves to the back of your neck and pulls you in. It’s exactly like the first kiss before the wedding. At least, at first. It’s gentle, but full of so much desire. It’s also slow, like there’s no rush to any of it.
The position is really uncomfortable, though. You shift your legs so they’re draped over one of Joshua’s. He doesn’t miss a beat. It just allows him to pull you closer. There’s something incredibly intimate in kissing him like this. There’s this weird contrast of desire and comfort. It’s heated, but also a little lazy. Like you have all the time in the world. Which you do, you think, now that you’re being honest about your feelings.
When Joshua pulls back from the kiss, you chase his lips for a second before realizing that he’s pulled away. The way he looks at you nearly melts you into the couch.
“I don’t want to assume where this is headed, but maybe we should take it to the bedroom?” he asks. It’s cute, the way he’s a little shy. Like you didn’t invite him in to spend the night. Yeah, you’re in way over your head. At least it seems like he might be too.
You pull your legs back so that you can stand up. His eyes track your movements as you reach your hand back to him. He accepts it without a word and lets you lead him to the bedroom. Even if he’s seen your bedroom before, this feels different. You’re waiting for him to look around, but his eyes are glued on you. Joshua even waits for you to lead him all the way to the bed, so you direct him to sit on the edge.
Once Joshua is seated, you step between his legs and tilt your head down to kiss him. He wraps his arms around you so that he can pull you against him. There’s barely any space between you. It sends a little bit of a shiver as his hands run up your back and back down. The touch is gentle and caring. Like he’s trying to put everything he feels into it. Something about it just makes you feel so insanely safe.
He’s the one to break the kiss again, but this time it’s to move back onto the bed and grab your hand to pull you along with him. It’s easy to just follow suit and get comfortable laying next to him, bodies facing each other. The kissing picks up when your lips meet again. Joshua kisses you breathless with a passion you’re eager to explore. One of his hands rests on your hip, casually sliding beneath your shirt and caressing up your side. You press your body further into his and capture his moan with a kiss. It feels like you’re a bit drunk off each other.
When Joshua’s hand moves back down, you take the chance to throw your leg over his hip, allowing you to press further into him and feel how this is turning him on. Part of you knows that he’s still waiting for you to set the pace. Or that he wants things to be a little slower. So, you help him out and roll the two of you over so that you’re straddled on top of him. Putting his hands on your hips, you lean over to kiss him again. In this position, you can also grind into his lap. You delight in how he’s already getting hard beneath you, enjoy the way his hands grip the soft flesh of your hips.
He pulls back and looks at you with blown pupils. “Baby, please don’t tease me.”
“No silly pet name?” you tease him.
“Not when you’re getting me this turned on like a horny teenager,” he whines.
“You mean like this?” you ask, injecting as much innocence as you can when you slowly drag your clothed pussy across his dick again.
Joshua throws his head back, eyes squeezed shut, and grips you tighter. “Yes.”
“So you don’t like it?” you ask, grinding a little more.
“Fuck,” he hisses out. And somehow that’s the thing that almost breaks you. Why is that one swear so hot on his lips?
Without saying anything, you sit up a little bit, still making sure you’re straddling Joshua, so that you can pull his shirt off him. Your eyes go wide because you’ve never seen him shirtless. You’ve seen him in well fitted suits or shirts, but this is entirely different. His chest looks like it was sculpted by an artist. All your attention is on your fingers running along his chest and you don’t see the way it makes him a little shy.
His hands reach for your own shirt, playing with the hem like he’s asking permission. So, you move his hands aside and pull it over your head, leaving your skin bare as well. You watch him drink you in, feeling almost empowered by the desire you see in his eyes. He pulls you back towards him so that he can get one of your breasts into his mouth. The way he teases your nipple with his tongue has you clenching around nothing. You can feel how wet it’s making you and try your best not to squirm when he moves from one breast to the other.
“I need you,” you utter.
“I need you, too,” he says against your skin. His hips buck up into you almost involuntarily.
You slide off of him and pull your shorts down and he gasps that you don’t have any underwear on. It isn’t like you were expecting anything, you just wanted to be prepared. While he’s still a little drunk on the sight of you fully naked, you help him discard the rest of his clothing. The sight of his cock springing free, precum leaking out, has you wanting to get your mouth on him.
But, you’re realizing, what you really want is to feel him inside you. After so much tension and wondering, you just want to have this moment together. You want to be as close as two people can possibly get. You want all the intimacy and to be able to see his face. It’s this thought that pushes you back to the bed to lay with him.
Joshua repositions and runs a hand down your body. Lets his fingers run along your thighs and tease their way up to gather some of your wetness. Your eyes close as he runs a finger up your slit. It’s such a little amount of contact and it makes you moan anyway.
“Damn, are you this wet just for me?” he asks and presses a kiss into the first bit of your skin he can reach.
“I want to feel you,” you admit. Joshua makes you press a finger into your pussy, but you stop him. Confusion takes over his features.
“I thought…do you not want this?” he asks.
“I do, but I want…I want all of you,” you admit. “I want to feel you deep inside of me. I want to be completely ruined by you. I want to come together.”
“Shit,” he hisses, hand stilling against your body. “On one condition.”
“What’s that?” you ask.
“I want to taste you soon,” he says, pressing a kiss into your shoulder.
The thought of him between your legs makes you shiver. It’s almost enough to forget that you want this first time to be together. “Deal.”
“Do you have condoms? I wasn’t exactly expecting…” he says, trailing off.
“That drawer,” you say and point.
He rolls himself off of the bed to open the drawer. You’re not sure why you expect his hands to be a little unsteady when he rips open the wrapper and rolls it onto himself, but he’s so calm. Maybe it’s just you that’s a little nervous. At least, that’s what you think until you catch the look on his face. It has to be the same as yours, naked want mixed with a little bit of uncertainty. Everything else has been so easy with you, what if this is where it goes wrong?
“Just lay back,” he urges you, voice calming any lingering nerves. His voice drops to a whisper, like the next statement is just for him. “You’re so beautiful, every single inch of you.”
It makes your heart constrict in a way that you’re not really prepared for. It would be nice if your feelings could stop flooding in all at once like a dam breaking. It’s overwhelming. You do as he says, though, and lean back against the pillow. Joshua gently spreads your legs apart and takes another moment to appreciate you. He can’t seem to help himself from running a finger along your entrance.
Even though he would fully be within his rights to tease you, he doesn’t. He lines himself up at your entrance and looks to you for final confirmation. All you can manage is a nod. You know he wants to hear you, but you can’t bring yourself to form the words. So, he accepts the nods and slowly presses into you.
“Fuck,” you hiss as you adjust to him.
“Are you okay?” he worries.
“Feels good,” you say with a slight whine. “It’s just been a bit.”
He presses the rest of the way into you and then stills so you can get used to him. It’s really overwhelming. Not just because you’re finally feeling him inside of you. More so because he’s looking at you with more adoration than you’ve ever felt in your life. Like this is it for him. Like you’re it for him. It’s too early to be thinking of love, but you really don’t know if anyone has ever loved you so completely. You think he’s probably it for you too.
Once he finally starts to move, you know it’s going to be over entirely too fast. He starts with slow thrusts, testing what you want. You dig your fingers into his arms as a way to ground yourself. To anchor yourself to him and in the moment. When he picks up the pace, your mind goes entirely blank. It’s just the right speed. While you love the hard and fast fucking, there’s something so much more intimate about this kind of in between speed.
“God you feel so good,” he whines as he snaps into you again. “So tight and perfect.”
“You’re so - oh my god,” you moan out, unable to finish the sentence as he hits you just right.
Joshua moves one of your legs so that it’s over his shoulder and presses further into you, hitting deeper than you were prepared for.
“Fuck, Joshua, holy shit,” you scream out.
“Love the sound of my name on your lips,” he manages as his thrusts pick up pace.
You want to respond that you love saying it, want to say anything, but the thrusts are entirely too much. As if it wasn’t already too much, Joshua adjusts again so that he can press his thumb against your clit. He rubs circles in time with his thrusts and you think that you might see stars. You throw your head back, eyes pressed shut.
“Look at me, baby. I wanna see you when you come,” he urges, his own voice sounding ragged.
Despite wanting to focus on the pressure building between you, you do as he asks. Your eyes meet his and it’s that look that makes that coil snap. You’re coming hard and digging your fingers into whatever you can find to release some of the tension in your body. This might be the best orgasm you’ve had.
When you come back to this plane, Joshua has stilled inside of you. One of his hands gently caresses your face as he mumbles quiet praises. It’s so impossibly tender.
“It’s okay, sweetheart, you can move,” you assure him.
“Thank fuck,” he mumbles.
His pace now picks up to something fast and hard with one of his large hands anchoring your thigh to his body. Your hands grip any part of his body that they can reach and you relish the way he hisses when your nails drag patterns down his skin. Marking him so that he belongs to you. Just as you belong so completely to him.
It seems impossible but you can feel the tension building low in your stomach again. His thrusts are so hard that you feel like his cock might split you open and something about it just works for you. You hadn’t thought anything about him would translate to this kind of hard and fast sex, but it’s somehow better than you could have imagined. With him so focused on chasing his own high, you rub circles on your clit to bring yourself over the edge again. You tumble over the edge for a second time just as Joshua’s thrusts get erratic. You do your best to take over the rhythm before slowing down.
Joshua collapses on top of you, cock still buried in your pussy, and sighs. His weight on top of you feels like the best security you’ve ever had. Your hands find their way into his hair, gently stroking and scratching his scalp. As he comes back around, he presses his head further into your hand.
“Hey,” you say when he looks up at you.
“You’re perfect,” he responds and you can’t keep the smile off your face.
“You were pretty perfect yourself,” you say.
“Am I too heavy, I could…” he starts and you pull him tighter against you.
“Don’t you dare,” you warn.
He doesn’t say anything, just nuzzles his face into your neck. But, you know that you can’t stay like this forever. So you don’t protest when he gently pulls himself up and gets out of the bed. You’re right behind him, leading him into the bathroom so that you can get both of you cleaned up.
After getting cleaned up, dressed, and doing your respective night time routines, you and Joshua are settled back into your bed (on top of a fresh set of sheets). Although you’ve never been much for falling asleep cuddling, you can’t imagine leaving any space between you and him. When he wraps himself around you, all you can do is smile and settle deeper into his perfect chest. Honestly, every inch of this man is perfect and you’d be annoyed if you weren’t so helplessly attached to him.
And it’s the best sleep you’ve gotten in a long time. You wake up with his chest pressed into your back and his arm still wrapped around you. It sounds like he’s still asleep based on his breathing and so you’re just considering slipping out of the bed. He moves in his sleep and pulls you tighter against him, making you feel that he’s semi-hard again. You press back against him, almost testing if he’s really asleep.
He’s not.
Joshua’s hand, already against the skin of your stomach and underneath your shirt, moves further up to your breast. His hand squeezes your breast and then he brushes his thumb over your nipple. Your body responds to his touch embarrassingly fast, which only seems to spur him on. He’s got your nipple between his fingers before you press back into him again, wiggling your ass against his dick without pretending you’re doing otherwise.
“Good morning beautiful,” Joshua says in a raspy voice into your ear.
The warmth of his breath along with the pressure of him rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger has you suppressing a moan. In the quiet of the morning, he hears it anyway. He removes his hand from your breast and you want to pout at the loss of contact. That is, until his hand works down between your legs, roughly grabbing hold of your pussy through your shorts. He runs his middle finger through your folds, likely feeling the way your shorts are getting soaked through already.
“Feels like someone might have woken up ready,” he says into your ear, voice sinfully low. His finger is still slowly teasing you through the damn material of your shorts. Somehow that makes it feel hotter.
“I wonder why,” you retort, undermined by the way you squirm under his touch.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asks and stops his movements.
Your hand immediately moves to his. To guide him back to your cunt. “Please don’t. Want to see what those hands can do.”
His mouth is still by your ear, so you hear the dark chuckle and feel the air tickle you. He moves your hand aside along with your shorts as he slips his hand inside the fabric. His middle finger resumes the previous pattern almost lazily. You’re about to ask him to stop teasing you when he presses a finger inside you suddenly.
“Fuck,” you nearly scream.
“Is someone a little sensitive?” he teases. He’s a fucking demon and you would gladly sell your soul so he didn’t stop.
The way he pumps his finger inside of you is entirely too slow. But, when you try to meet his rhythm, he stops. Just when you think you might actually die, he inserts a second finger. It makes your back arch, pressing your ass further against his now very hard cock. He hisses and pulls his fingers out from you. As you’re turning over to adjust your position, you see him insert his fingers into his mouth. Holy shit. He really is the hottest man you’ve ever met.
Instead of letting you carry on in any way, he pushes himself up and repositions. You’re not really sure what he’s doing until he reaches for your shorts to pull them off. His focus is on you, silently asking for permission again. All you can do is nod.
“Told you that I wanted to taste you,” he reminds you once your shorts are off.
“Are you sure…” you start to ask before he cuts you off.
His head snaps up so he can meet your eyes. “I’ve been waiting to taste you for weeks.”
That shuts you up pretty effectively. What can you really say in response to that? Anything you might have said dies in your throat as he licks a messy stripe up your folds. He quickly settles, using one hand to keep you spread open for him, and licks into you. It’s all you can do to keep your eyes on him as his head bobs between your legs. You thread your fingers through his hair to keep him in place even though you know he’s not going anywhere. (And okay, maybe it’s more to ground yourself to him than anything else.)
It shouldn’t be surprising that his attentiveness translates this well, but it is a little surprising how well he seems to know your body. The way he knows just when to switch from licking into your cunt to flicking his tongue over your clit. The way he knows when he needs to add a finger and then a second. The way he can tell everything your body needs before you even realize it.
By the time he pulls himself up your body, he’s got you nearly panting from the build up. The kiss he presses to your lips is sloppy and a little desperate. Like you’re both totally fucked out. His fingers inside you keep a relentless pace as he hooks them, hitting that perfect spot.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you yell out, breaking the kiss. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire in an entirely different way from the night before.
There’s nothing in the world but Joshua and the way he coaxes everything out of you. The way he has you squirting on his fingers. You’re not even sure if the praise coming out of your mouth makes any sense and you’re definitely not sure what he says in return. It’s all you can do just to appreciate the moment.
You think that you’re going to get the chance to get your mouth around his cock now that he’s given you another mind blowing orgasm. But, by the time you get your breathing under control, you see that he’s rolling a condom from your drawer onto himself. He pulls you to the edge of the bed so that your legs are hanging off. It’s instantly stronger than you’re expecting from him and pulls a gasp from you.
Without even thinking, your legs fall open. Joshua seems to have found a bottle of lube, too, and spreads it over his cock. When he lines himself up at your entrance, you expect him to ease in like the night before. He doesn’t. He snaps his full length inside of you in one motion and you’re so overstimulated, but it feels so good.
“Fuck me, Joshua, oh my fucking god,” you say and clench down around his dick.
“Shit, that feels so good,” he hisses.
“You feel so good,” you moan.
“You have no idea,” he answers and starts thrusting.
It’s a complete haze from the moment you hear his skin slap against your own. Every coherent thought leaves your head. There is nothing in the world but you and him and the way you make each other feel. He leans over your body, crowds your space. Steals sloppy, desperate kisses. Praises you constantly and in broken sentences. It’s all you can do just to hold on, so sore and so unable to stop.
Your hands grip into the sheets around you that are completely rumpled. You try everything to keep your eyes on Joshua’s face. Memorize the way he looks when he’s concentrating. Appreciate how totally gone he is because you’re sure it’s the same look you have. Delight in the way his eyes get even wider when you clench your pussy around him.
It feels a little like he’s using your body to chase his own high, except there’s total comfort in that. All you want is for him to feel as good as you do. All you want is for him to get that release, especially since you haven’t been able to get your mouth on his cock yet.
“Harder Joshua, please. I know you’re close,” you beg and he obliges immediately.
Even though you’re trying to meet the rhythm, you can’t. It’s too erratic and too unpredictable. So you pull him down to you again and kiss him. Slip your tongue inside his mouth and let the kisses get as sloppy as they need to. You feel how close he is and only kiss him harder. He breaks the kiss for the last few thrusts, groaning as he comes. You’re right there with him.
(Later, he tells you that he’s never seen anyone hotter than you when you come. It would make you embarrassed in any other situation. But, you realize that you’ve never been with anyone that’s come close to him, so maybe it’s okay to accept his praise. Maybe you deserve it. Maybe this is the person that you’ve been waiting for.)
Now, you really do have to get up and clean up. As tempting as Joshua’s offer to shower together is, you don’t want it to turn into shower sex because that’s just not sexy (or practical). Neither one of you can seem to guarantee keeping their hands off the other. Instead, you tell him that he can use the shower in your guest room. It’s fully stocked and there are still more spare clothes in there. He insists that he should get some laundry going because you must be running out of clean sheets and you definitely made a mess.
With Joshua cleaning up some around the house, you’re the first out of the shower and dressed. Pleasantly sore in the kind of way you really enjoy. You’re sitting on the couch and scrolling through your phone, trying to decide if you want to order food or just cook what you already have. Before you can make a decision, there’s a knock at the door. It’s impossible to guess who it could be. Even Jeonghan wouldn’t bother you like this. Although he’s been texting asking for an update after you told him you finally got your shit together, he wouldn’t show up like this.
When you open the door, you’d give anything for it to just be Jeonghan. Instead, you see a face that you’ve been seeing entirely too much lately.
“What are you doing here, Johnny?” you ask with a heavy sigh.
“I need to talk to you,” he says.
“Why?” you ask.
“Come on, don’t be like that,” he pleads.
“Johnny, it’s the day after your wedding. What the fuck are you doing on my doorstep?” you ask, arms crossed.
“Are you really going to make me do this in the hallway?” he asks.
“I don’t see any reason to invite you inside,” you retort.
“It’s about your, uh, boyfriend,” Johnny says a little awkwardly.
“Joshua?” you ask because that actually piques your interest a bit.
“Can I come in?” he asks.
“No. What about Joshua?” you ask.
“This is really awkward. It would be better if we were sitting down…” Johnny starts.
“My little honeybun, is everything okay?” Joshua asks from inside the apartment. He must be out of the shower.
“Babe, we talked about the pet names,” you remind him as he joins you at the door.
“Oh, uh, I wasn’t expecting him to be here,” Johnny says.
“I’m her boyfriend, so I know why I’m here. What are you doing here?” Joshua says without hiding any disdain.
"Are you really her boyfriend, though?" Johnny challenges.
You stiffen almost imperceptibly, but Joshua must notice it because he wraps an arm around you protectively. "Of course I am. Why are you here?"
“I needed to talk to her,” Johnny says stiffly.
“About you, apparently,” you say with your eyes on Joshua.
“Right, so can you give us a minute?” Johnny asks with his eyes on Joshua.
“No, he can’t. If you have something to say, just say it. Then you can leave us alone,” you say.
“Fine, if you really want it to be like this, fine,” Johnny says. “I knew he looked familiar when I saw him at your parents’ house with you. It just took me a while. I ran into him at a couple of functions back when I was in college and traveling all around for my dad.”
“Okay? And? I’m sorry, but I’m not sure why I care,” you say even though you know where he’s going.
“He was always with older women,” Johnny presses.
“Can you just make your point so we can get back to our day?” Joshua asks.
“Fine,” Johnny says, irritated. “The whispers were that women paid him to come to the events with them. That he was selling himself to them.”
You actually snort at the phrasing. It takes you several seconds to compose yourself. You wonder what the point of Johnny doing this and if it’s his way of trying to keep you on the hook. Then you realize that you don’t really care what he does. For the first time in forever, you’re genuinely happy.
“I’m glad you think this is funny,” Johnny says.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I know how Joshua helped pay for his education. And like why am I going to give him a hard time over seizing an opportunity? There’s nothing wrong with profiting off of someone wanting his company platonically,” you say.
“You’re assuming he wasn’t also sleeping with them,” Johnny says, a little stubborn.
“No, I’m not assuming. I know he wasn’t because we’ve talked about this. He told me all about it without even being prompted. And unlike certain people in my life, I have absolutely no reason to doubt him. I know I can actually trust him,” you say. “It was also years before we met. We’ve all got history.”
“Nice dig,” he says.
“It’s not a dig, Johnny. Not everything is a slight,” you say with a sigh. “Where does Gabby think you are?”
“What?” Johnny asks.
“Your wife,” you clarify. “Where does she think you are?”
“Oh, well, that’s not important. I just said I had some errands to take care of,” Johnny says and you roll your eyes.
“We’re done, Johnny,” you say.
“Wait,” he says as you’re moving to shut the door. “I know I fucked up, but…”
“There’s no buts. Not anymore,” you say. “Maybe there was a point where I’d want to hear the buts and the apologies and all that. I’m happy now, though, and you can’t even tell your wife that you came to see your ex-fiancee the day after your wedding.”
“It’s not like…” he starts and you start to close the door at the same time.
“It’s exactly like that. Goodbye, Johnny,” you say.
The second you close the door, you feel a giant weight lifted off you. You just feel tired. It’s obvious that there aren’t any feelings there anymore, so him pretending he cares as a pretense to see you just feels irritating.
“Are you okay?” Joshua asks, eyes raking over you.
“Yeah, I’m good,” you say.
“You sure?” he asks.
“Yeah, really. I think I knew when I saw him at my parents’ house that time you came over for dinner that I was completely over it,” you say. “I’m sorry he tried to bring something like that up or make it a big deal.”
“I don’t care. It’s like you said, I did it and I’m not ashamed of that,” he says. “But, uh, I really wanted to thank you.”
“For what?” you ask.
“For defending me and for saying you trust me,” he says. It makes you a little shy for a second, so you look down.
“Oh, well, it’s not a big deal,” you say.
Joshua closes the space and tilts your chin up to look at him. “It’s a huge deal to me. I know we started pretending, but trusting me means the absolute world.”
“You make it easy,” you admit.
That seems to render him a little speechless as well because all he does is pull you into him in the tightest hug he’s ever given you. Your body fits into his like a puzzle piece. Which sounds sappy, even if in your head, and you don’t actually care. It’s the safest and the happiest you’ve ever felt.
“What?” he asks when you pull away.
“Nothing, I just think this is going to work,” you say.
Joshua smiles at you, that genuine smile he saves for when he’s at his happiest. “Yeah, I think so too.”
i hope you enjoyed this fic! let me know your thoughts 💕
tag list: @aaniag, @gyuminusone, @crepecakeu, @tinyelfperson, @dokyeomkyeom, @amoryeonjun, @miriamxsworld, @hongrizoon, @klecksstorys, @sunflowergyeomie, @straykidswhoo789, @holistic, @vanishingboots, @babybae-shisui, @matchahyuck, @sonybear40, @kimseokgen, @hyneyedfiz, @miujunhui, @graybaeismytae, @hyucksrealm, @livixxn, @sharonxdevi, @coupsystar8, @sana-is-ms-rmty, @pyeonghongrie-main, @naajaeminsgf, @beomesbabe, @magicshop913, @deletingthekisses, @lissiesykes (strikethrough means i couldn't tag, check your settings!)
#joshua smut#joshua fluff#joshua angst#joshua x reader#joshua x you#joshua x y/n#joshua fic#joshua fanfic#seventeen smut#seventeen fluff#seventeen angst#seventeen x reader#seventeen x you#svt x reader#svt x you#svt smut#svt fluff#svt angst#svthub#kvanity#joshua imagines#joshua scenarios#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#svt imagines#svt scenarios#ksmutsociety
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♪ — 𝗪𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗜𝗡? - part two
max verstappen x reader (fluff)
“. . . when he wants to be normal, he can count on you, stranger.”
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“Come on, you can’t say he has so much potential!” Max miserably tried to hold in his laughs as you continued your rant about how much better Max would look if he put a little more effort or thought in how he dressed.
“I’m honestly starting to think he’s allergic to wearing anything . . . not Red Bull related. Like even in his streams! In his home!”
Sitting in front of his laptop with a makeshift setup in the hotel room in Japan, Max found himself unwinding from the earlier media day when he gladly accepted to join you for a game of Fifa. It wasn’t until someone brought up Lewis’ outfit from this morning did you start your little ted talk.
“La, please concentrate on the game, we’re losing!” he couldn’t stop laughing either so your team was toast either way.
“No, because I bet he's wearing his Red Bull shirt right now wherever he is.”
The reason why Max was no longer able to hold it together was because he was indeed in a Red Bull shirt. He might actually take you up on being allergic to anything not associated with Red Bull.
“I’ll gladly design a few outfits for him, I swear!”
“La-” Max put his face in his hands, shoulders shaking from laughter as his screen showed the opposing team scoring a goal. The dutch would usually feel frustrated if he were to be losing a Fifa game in any other situation, but not this one with you.
He's ready to lose and lose again, even give up his title as one of the world's top twenty Fifa players if he gets to spend time with you like this, laughing and joking; forgetting the world around, so it's just you and him.
Just two people . . . being people.
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
“Since I have no one to show, you're stuck with me.”
It’s kind of been a routine now, having a private call after a game or upon finding spare time. You two have gotten close. You even considered “amilian” to be a close friend, per say. A close friend who you regularly vent to about work or just randomly ask riddles or dad jokes to bother.
You enjoyed his company. He was a fun person to be around. He made you feel . . . yellow in a type of way too. You never felt left out or unheard. He always had time for you, it's like you were maybe gravitating to being more than close friends . . . it's not like you can do anything about it though.
Surely people make close friends online all the time.
You stay up on your couch, scrolling through the settings of your laptop to show and rant despite having to get up in the morning. Max crossed his legs on his chair folding his arms and watching the screen as you messed around on your shared screen.
“La, it’s late.” He’s been trying to tell you for the past 10 minutes. It’s 6:30 in Japan, 7 hours ahead of the time in Paris, where you were.
Not that he’s keeping track of the time where you were, it’s just that you shared the same time zone as Monaco, and he only had the GMT+2 clock displayed on his home screen because he needed to keep track of his cats . . . not too make sure you got enough sleep or anything of that sort.
“It's only 11:30,” you shushed, pulling up pinterest. Max hung his head, trying to hold in his smile. “I could put together a whole outfit that would suit him right here and now,”
“La,” Max giggled watching you actually start to search and put things together. “I’ll make a deal with you, if you go to sleep, I'll try to get Max Verstappen in baggy jeans,”
“WHAT?!” the blond flinched at the loud noise, looking around his hotel room to make sure no one heard anything -- despite him being alone.
“You know I work in F1 right?” Max followed up, trying to hold in his smile at your silence. “La, you forgot?!”
“I’m sorry!” you pleaded, holding your hands in a begging motion despite him not seeing anything.
Max put his hand on his chest and pretended to be offended when he was smiling really wide to the point his cheeks hurt. “My best friend doesn't know what I do for a living,” he gushed in fake hurt.
Your mind blanked at the title. Best friend?
“You do know what my job is, right, La?”
“. . .” You looked away embarrassed, you’ve known the guy for how long and don’t even know what his profession is.
Max couldn’t stop his giggles. “Go to bed, La. I’ll get Max in baggy jeans for you.”
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
“Hey um, million?”
“I thought I told you to go to bed?” Max chuckled, crouched in front of his suitcase, digging through it in hopes to find a pair of baggy jeans or a white shirt that he probably doesn't own.
“I am in bed technically . . .” The blond looked over to his laptop on his desk, the call still going. “You work in F1,” Max felt his heart jump in anxiety for a second, there's no way you figured him out.
“Yeah?”
“Well um . . . my boss chose me to go see how things were going with McLaren at the Monaco gp,”
The dutch perked up at your announcement. “Really? That's great!”
“Y-Yeah, it is,” you stuttered, agreeing. you crossed your arms, looking at the email congratulating you on your phone screen. “I mean, I'm glad, this is an experience of a lifetime. I get to drag along a few interns with me as well.” Max frowned, your tone did not match with the news you were announcing.
“What's wrong?” He got up, sitting on the desk chair, looking at your profile picture, the concern was clear in voice, as if you could feel him sitting beside you on your bed and gently rubbing your back to comfort you.
“Well, I don't have anyone to go with - the interns don't count . . . and I don't know anyone in Monaco or the attendees-- except you technically . . . I haven’t been on my own for that long before,” you sighed.
Max furrowed his eyebrows, trying to decipher what you were asking of him.
“Is it-” you cut yourself of with a sigh. “Can I hang out with you sometime? During the weekend?” Max stayed silent, feeling his heart pounding to the point he was scared the organ would explode out of his chest.
“I mean,” Max cleared his throat to hide the crack in his voice that arose from the anxiety he was drowning in. “I’m not traveling with the team every weekend, so I'm not sure if I'm going to be in Monaco . . . I’ll have to ask my boss.” he replied quietly and slowly, trying to comfort you still. “There’s still a few weeks before Monaco, so . . . I don’t know for sure.” He whispered, scratching the back of his head.
He was digging himself a grave. Asking Horner if he’s going to be in Monaco when he is the driver and already lives in Monaco? It’s too late now to be honest about who he is, he dug this hole himself and now he’s stuck in it.
It’s not like he can be like ‘oh, yeah of course you can hang out with me. Oh, I’m Max Verstappen by the way, the guy who’s driving the best car and winning all the races, so I can get you VIP tickets and a hot lap too if you want.’
“I’ll try my best to be there,” the blond whispered. You could almost feel him brushing your hair comfortingly. “We can get ice cream or go sightseeing. I know this really good cafe you’ll like . . .” Max will just have to keep digging his hole.
proof reading credits to the lovely and amazing @classiclitfreak <3
#‧˚⊹🪴 ଓ :: 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝘀 ‧₊˚⤾#🐈 ﹒wired in? ﹐♫#max verstappen f1#max verstappen#max#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x you#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 x you#formula 1#formula racing#mv1#mv33#max verstappen fanfic#mv1 x reader#mv33 x reader#mv1 fic#mv33 fic#max x reader#max x you#f1 fic#formula one x reader#formula one
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ᡣ𐭩 I, CARRION
FEATURING: beast dazai osamu
SUMMARY: the day of the event has arrived and dazai is second guessing everything, but it's too late for him to back out now.{wordcount: 12k; fem!reader; romance & tragedy}
AUTHOR'S NOTES: PART FOUR wow guys we're really getting into the meat of the fic now. HAHAH this is the chapter i had to split into two parts, initially it was going to be one big one but then it would've been a whopping 23k words and that's a bit much even for me. i didn't want to cross the 20k realm HAHAHH. anyway, this chapter really was a pleasure to write, the second scene was my favorite but the ending was SOOOO close to usurping it
GENERAL WARNINGS: again, i'll just leave this warning on every chapter - dazai struggles a lot with disassociation/derealization & losing himself in the pages of the book. as always please let me know if i forgot any warnings
SEE: UNREAL UNEARTH SERIES MASTERLIST
READ: BADLANDS SIDE A
“Gin-chan, I’m so nervous.”
You pace around Dazai’s penthouse anxiously, twisting your fingers in front of your body. The event is taking place tomorrow night. You still don’t have an outfit for it—Dazai told you not to worry about it, you’re still worrying about it because what does that even mean? You don’t know what to expect from the event, and Gin is evasive when you ask her about what will happen, just keeps telling you that it’ll be fine as long as you stay with Dazai.
“There’s no reason to be nervous,” Gin says, as she always does, still tapping away at her laptop. Glasses hang off the bridge of her nose and there are dark circles beneath her eyes. You feel a bit ashamed about constantly going on about your nerves when you know damn well she, Dazai and all of the other executives of his company have been working nonstop the past few days trying to finish preparations. “Dazai-san will be with you the whole time, and if he has to talk business, someone will sit with you until he can get back so you’re not feeling awkward.”
Somehow, you think that might be even more awkward because you doubt a random person is going to want to babysit you while Dazai is busy, but you don’t voice your thoughts, instead just withering as you circle the large room for the sixth time in the past five minutes.
You’ve hardly seen Dazai all week. You don’t really mind, you know he’s swamped with work and you’ve been keeping yourself busy going out cafe hopping and shopping. Gin comes with you when she can, but it’s usually Nakajima Atsushi or Tachihara Michizo that joins you—Gin had introduced you to the two security guards a week ago when she’d been too busy to come with you to a cafe downtown. You don’t mind the company but you can’t help but wonder why Dazai is so insistent that someone comes with you.
Well. You can’t help but wonder about a lot of things, really. You’re pretty certain that Dazai is still hiding something major from you. You don’t know a lot about business, and you especially don’t know anything about his business, but something isn’t right. You’re not stupid and everyone is not as slick as they think themselves to be, you see how tense and anxious people get when you mention him to them, more so than the average worker would be at the mere mention of their boss, and everyone in the entire damn building is armed, even though they clearly try to hide it whenever you’re in the area.
You and your friends have joked about the uber wealthy before, and how no one above a certain tax bracket obtains their wealth without some sort of blood money; you’re about 99% sure that’s what’s taking place here too, and it would certainly explain all of the secrecy. More so than trade secrets at least, you feel a bit dumb for that to have even been an explanation in your mind. You just don’t know the specifics. You don’t know if you want to know the specifics, you think you’d prefer to remain ignorant because 1) you definitely don’t want to have any sort of culpability, not when you’re on path to graduate school and hopefully a very prestigious job with the government, and 2) … you don’t want to face the reality of what that would mean.
You like Dazai. More than like him. You’ve been slowly coming to terms with the fact that you really, truly care for him, and if you end up learning the… specifics of his job, then you’re going to be forced into making a decision you don’t want to make: preserving your future and morals or risking them for him. And you’re not going to sit around and claim to be some upstanding, virtuous person. You’re not. But you are ambitious, and you’ve had your mind set on your future since you learned how to pick up a pen and write. You’ve worked your entire life to get where you are now, slaved your way through a prestigious undergraduate school in Japan and spent months preparing for the entrance exams for graduate school, only to what? Throw it all away for some man?
God, you almost feel sick. Distantly, you wonder how awful of a person you must be for the threat to your future success to be the main reason why you’re questioning yourself, and not the fact that it’s very likely that Dazai and his conglomerate have some sort of business with Japan’s underground, maybe even direct dealings with the mafia itself.
You pause from where you’re pacing around the room, eyes widening a bit as another realization hits you. You had thought it was odd that Dazai and Gin and all of the executives of the conglomerate have been so stressed and anxious over an event that they’re not even hosting, but what if… Your throat spasms a bit as you swallow, wondering if Dazai is about to bring you not to an event hosted by their rival, but to an event hosted by the mafia. You don’t think he would put you in danger like that, you don’t want to think he would put you in danger like that and you wonder if you’re just sending yourself down a spiral of unnecessary paranoia.
But it doesn’t make sense. Dazai is enamored by you, and you don’t think you’re being conceited by saying that because he has made it abundantly clear. There’s no way he would ever put you in danger like that. Not unless… you feel a bit green remembering his reaction to you saying that you’d go out on your own and stay with your friend the weekend of the event. You could feel the anxiety radiating off of him for a split second before he asked you to come with him. You also remember how he always makes sure someone is with you when you go out, and god, you swear you’re not a conspiracy theorist but nothing is making sense when you look at it through your rose-tinted lenses but looking at it through these lenses. The lenses of a man who is obviously smitten with you, and who might have dealings with the mafia—of course he wouldn’t want you to go out on your own because he’d be scared that you might be targeted as a means to get to him.
Oh, you feel dizzy. What have you gotten yourself into?
“Are you okay?” Gin is looking up at you, brows furrowed in concern. “You look a little sick.”
“I’m fine,” you say, but the words sound pathetic even to your own ears and you know Gin doesn’t believe you from the way she tilts her head to the side to study you.
Luckily, you’re saved by the bell. Literally.
Your head snaps to the side as the elevator dings, and ordinarily, you would be ecstatic because who else would be coming up to the penthouse besides Dazai and while you’ve certainly missed him over the past week with how busy he’s been, you’re not sure if you’re ready to see him right now with the way your thoughts have just spiraled, because you think you might blurt something out that you can’t take back.
But, for better or for worse, it is not Dazai that enters the penthouse.
“Good morning, ladies,” a familiar voice croons as the elevator doors slide open. Your eyes light up as you whip around, eyes falling upon a face you haven’t seen in almost two weeks. “I come bearing gifts.”
“Albatross!” you say, excited, a smile splitting your face, because yes, even knowing about the possible affiliation with the mafia, you’re still excited to see the blonde—he’s never been anything but sweet to you, and he’s really the only one besides Gin and Chuuya who doesn’t treat you weirdly because of your relationship with Dazai.
“D’aw, look at it, Lippmann, told you the doll would still remember me,” Albatross grins, dark glasses hanging on the bridge of his nose as he tosses you a wink and then looks back toward the elevator.
Your gaze follows his, and your eyes fall upon a vaguely familiar person stepping out of the elevator and into the penthouse, carrying a few boxes. Pale hair cut into a bob, a pretty, androgynous face, dressed to the nines in a light purple waistcoat and matching pants—where have you seen him before? Wait-
“You’re-!” you begin, eyes wide and lips parting in shock.
“Walter Lippmann,” the man greets you with a kind smile and soft eyes, you feel a bit flustered, you can hardly meet his gaze. “Everybody just calls me Lippmann though.”
You try to speak, but you’re a bit starstruck—the last thing you’d expected was for a movie star to step into the penthouse. You’re looking between Albatross and Gin and then hesitantly back at Lippmann as you try to figure out what’s going on.
Albatross cackles. “Looks like she’s gotta crush, Lippmann. Better not let the boss find out, he’ll get jealous.”
“Albatross,” you complain, hands flying to cover your hot face. “Not true, I’m just surprised. Am I allowed to be surprised?”
“Yeah, sure, doll, that’s it,” Albatross says, clearly not believing you at all as he throws himself onto the couch next to Gin, looking up at you. “The boss asked us to pick up a dress for you. Go try it on, I’m going to raid his liquor cabinet while you do—if he asks, you better take the blame.”
You see Gin roll her eyes. “You will not raid his liquor cabinet, Albatross,” she says firmly, but the man only winks at her.
You turn your attention back to Lippmann, who’s carrying the dress in a garment bag, a shoe box tucked under his other arm. He gives you a small smile and then motions for you to follow him; you’re still starstruck as you follow him into Dazai’s bedroom, pointedly ignoring the way Albatross snickers.
You watch as Lippmann hangs the garment bag up on the closet, placing the shoebox down on the bed. He turns toward you after and says, “Try it on and make sure it fits properly. And make sure you like it.”
You nod, lips parting to speak but no words leave your lips. You look up at the garment bag, down to the shoes, and back to Lippmann and then you ask, “How do you… how do you know Dazai?”
Lippmann gives you another gentle smile, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. You notice, a bit curiously, that he seems to take a moment before he speaks, as if choosing his words carefully.
“I knew Dazai’s father,” he says after a few seconds. “I work with the Mori Corporation sometimes regarding press and political matters. Like a spokesperson when Dazai is unable to.”
Hm, you think to yourself before nodding, a movie star as a spokesperson for a corporation, that’s a bit odd, isn’t it?
Your brows furrow slightly as you try to fit the new knowledge in with all of the rest you’ve put together over the past few weeks but it’s just another jagged puzzle piece that’s not fitting in anywhere.
“I’m a huge fan of your movies,” you finally tell him, rubbing the back of your neck as you toss him a sheepish smile. “Like, no joke, almost cried when you had your discussion panel for The Good Society three months ago because it was two days before my entrance exam to grad school so I couldn’t go.”
Lippman laughs, pale cheeks flushing as he looks down at the ground before back up at you. “Honestly, you didn’t miss out. The whole panel was a mess, and the AC broke twenty minutes before, so it was ridiculously hot.”
You don’t really know what to say to that, cursing the fact that you are 1) still half dazed on top of 2) already being naturally awkward, but Walter Lippmann is Walter Lippmann, so of course he knows just what to say and do.
He nods to the dress that he hung up on the closet. “Try it on and then give us a show,” he says, winking at you before he makes his way out of Dazai’s bedroom back into the other room with Albatross and Gin.
You sigh when you’re alone again, tilting your head up to look at the ceiling for a moment, wondering what your life has become before you make your way over to the dress. You unzip the garment bag, curious to see what Dazai had picked for you, and your eyes shoot open when you see the red gown within the bag. Smooth and silky, off-the-shoulder, it’s probably the most expensive thing you’ve ever laid your eyes upon; you feel like you shouldn’t even touch it, much less put it on.
But Lippmann and Albatross and Gin are out there waiting, you can hear them talking through the door, so you force yourself to gingerly pull it off of the hanger, careful to not be too rough with the material. It doesn’t take you too long to get your clothes off and the dress on, but when you do, you can hardly bring yourself to move away from the mirror.
You look beautiful. You do. The dress is a perfect fit, it compliments your skin, it compliments your hair. You look beautiful, but you feel like a fraud, like a clown in a ball gown, hoping that the beauty of the dress would draw attention from the fact that it’s not meant for someone like you.
You don’t know how long you stand there, staring at your reflection. Too long, evidently, because you hear a sharp knock at the door and Lippman’s concerned voice asking if you’ve gotten the dress on.
“Yeah,” you say quietly. “I’m dressed.”
You hear the door to Dazai’s bedroom creak open but you don’t turn to look.
“I think this costs more than my student loans,” you breathe out, staring at yourself in the mirror. You smooth your hands over the silky material, eyes catching the way it clings to you perfectly. “God, where the hell did he get something like this? It’s like it was made for me.”
“Probably was,” Lippmann says from where he’s leaning against the doorframe, lips quirked up into a half smile as he tosses you another wink. “Perks of dating one of the richest men in Japan.”
You let out a noise caught between a whimper and a laugh, suddenly feeling very, very out of place.
Lippmann clearly catches your sudden change in attitude and his brows furrow. “Do you not like it?” he asks curiously. “There’s plenty of time for him to send for something else.”
“No, no,” you hurry to say, voice catching. Although you’re unsure how twenty-hour hours constitutes ‘plenty of time’, but you digress. “It’s perfect. It is.”
“What’s the issue then?”
“I just…” you trail off, eyes lingering in the mirror. “I feel silly, I guess. How obvious is it that I’ve never worn anything like this before?”
“Silly?” Lippmann asks, amused, peeling off the doorframe to make his way over to you. You swallow thickly as he straightens your posture and then uses two fingers to make you raise your chin. “You look stunning. Like a woman who belongs on the arm of the most influential man in Japan… Like a woman who doesn’t need to be on the arm of any man.”
Your face feels a bit hot as you let out a puff of laughter. “Now you’re exaggerating.”
“I certainly am not,” Lippmann says firmly, taking a step back. “You’re only getting in your head. From what Chuuya has told me about you, you’re more than suited to outwit and outclass anyone in attendance at that event.”
Your face feels hotter now, smiling as you roll your eyes. “Flatterer,” you say, but you feel a bit better, chest lighter as your gaze turns back to look at the mirror. “... Do you-”
A sharp whistle from the door draws your attention from Lippmann; there’s a lecherous smile on Albatross’s face as he leans against the frame and looks at you, glasses hanging off the bridge of his nose. “Damn, if you weren’t the boss’s girl…”
Gin slaps him hard on the back of his head, glaring at him before turning a small smile to you. “You look beautiful,” she says softly. “He’ll be speechless when he sees you tomorrow.”
Your throat feels tight as your lashes flutter, a smile on your lips as you look down at the ground. Even though the concerns of your realizations from before still weigh heavily in the back of your mind, you can’t help but feel a bit giddy at the thought of seeing Dazai tomorrow.
The giddiness is long gone.
You still haven’t gotten dressed.
You’re sitting at the edge of Dazai’s bed in your bra and panties, staring at the wall with your knees pulled to your chest. Your dress is hanging on the closet on the far side of the room, heels sitting on the floor beneath it. You’ve done your makeup and you put your earrings on already—pretty, dangly diamonds that are the most expensive thing you own, the last thing your brother gifted you before he cut you off entirely. You need to be getting dressed, Dazai will be up here any second to pick you up to leave for the event, but you just can’t bring yourself to put the dress on, anxiety eating away at you.
It’s not even because of the realization you’d come to yesterday, it’s because you think you’re about to make a fool out of yourself. Even if you’re wrong about the theory that you might be heading into an event hosted by the mafia and their associates, you’re still heading into an event that’s going to be attended by people who are much wealthier than you, and you already feel out of place and you’re not even there.
The dress is beautiful, but you think you’ll look like a clown in it, everyone will know that you’re not from the same sector of life as them with a single glance. Lippmann’s words from yesterday are in one ear out the other now that you’re closer to the actual time of the event.
You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t even hear the bing of the elevator arriving at the penthouse, and you don’t notice Dazai until he pushes open the cracked door to step into the bedroom. And you feel like you should be embarrassed sitting half naked on his bed, rather than being dressed and waiting for him, but you can’t muster it, eyes dragging up from the wall to land on his concerned expression.
And he’s a sight, you think. He’s so handsome. Absently, you think he might be more handsome than the last time you saw him but you think that’s a bit ridiculous because he hasn’t changed at all. He’s wearing the same long black coat and burgundy scarf, but the sleek, dark suit he wears beneath it is different, more expensive than all of the others that he’s donned the past few months you’ve known him.
His lips are turned downward as he approaches you, placing a blue box down on his dresser, dark eye soft with concern, and you also can’t help but notice that he still wears the bandages around the upper left side of his face, covering his eye. You want to know what’s beneath them desperately, but you can’t bring yourself to ask, hoping that he’ll show you on his own terms.
He stands in front of you, and you rest your chin on your knees as you stare forward, staring at his abdomen instead of looking up at his face. But he doesn’t let your gaze linger there, bringing his right hand to cup your cheek so he can gently lift your face upward, forcing you to meet his eyes. You can feel the rough edges of his bandages scraping against your skin, and you instinctively lean into his touch. You try to remind yourself of all of the realizations you’d come to yesterday, tell yourself to not be as at ease with him, at least have some semblance of your guard up, but you fail.
“What’s wrong?” he asks you softly, letting you lean into his touch as he brings his other hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Are you okay?”
And you feel selfish, you realize, as you try to figure out what to tell him. You can’t even fathom the amount of money he spent on your dress and the shoes, and here you are being a baby because you’re self conscious. You don’t even want to reply to him, so you try to turn your face away but he doesn’t let you.
“Tell me,” he says quietly. “I’ll fix it, whatever it is.”
“It’s silly,” you finally breathe out, averting your gaze to the ground as you let your eyes flutter shut, turning your face in his hand to kiss his palm before leaning back into it. “I’m being a baby, I’m sorry.”
“It’s not silly if it has you upset,” Dazai tells you, and he kneels down in front of you to catch your gaze again and briefly, you think it’s absurd that you have such a powerful man at your whims like this, kneeling before you, willing to do anything to make sure that you’re content and happy. It makes your throat swell a bit, those inferior feelings rising back to your chest with a vengeance, because what the hell did you do to deserve this? There’s nothing special about you. “Tell me what’s wrong, let me help.”
“I just don’t understand.”
Oh my god, your voice cracks, you can feel your eyes go a bit misty, and instantly, Dazai’s concerned gaze is narrowing, as if trying to calculate what exactly is the source of your distress so he can remove it, and it only makes you want to cry more because what did you do to deserve all of this?
If you’re right about all of the assumptions you made the other day, and Dazai is bringing you to this event even though by all means he should not because there’s likely going to be a lot of shady business occurring that could incriminate him and all of the other people at this event, then why? Why would he risk that just for a girl he met a few months ago? You can’t fathom it.
God, you know better than anyone the effects imposter syndrome can have on a person in school, but the last thing you expected was to be dealing with it in love too.
Love, the word makes your stomach churn because you do love him, you realize, as he stares up at you desperately trying to figure out what’s wrong so he can fix it. And how scary is that, considering only twenty-four hours ago you came to the realization that he’s very likely involved in the underground, in some way or another, and you had to come to terms with the fact that you’d have to choose between your future and a man. But he’s not just a man, he’s a man that you love in spite of everything you’ve put together.
A tear spills over your cheek and Dazai’s gaze becomes alarmed as he instantly wipes it away with his thumb before caressing your cheek gently.
“What don’t you understand?” he presses quietly. “Talk to me.”
Where do you fucking start?
You want to cry even more but you force yourself not to, you can’t afford to let your makeup get anymore messed up than it already is. Instead you sniffle a bit and try to blink away the tears.
“This,” you finally say, and your voice cracks again, you take a wet breath. Dazai’s lips part a bit, as if he wants to speak but he’s not sure what to say, brows furrowing. “There’s nothing special about me, Dazai, and I don’t understand why you’ve gone to the lengths that you have for me. Meeting me at that club every Friday as if you’re not always swamped with work, indulging me whenever I want to do things. You gave me a place to stay after only knowing me for a few weeks, gave up your own room, your own bed, so I could be comfortable while you slept at your desk. You’ve made sure people are always with me so I never get bored or lonely. You’ve given me literally everything I could possibly ask for and I’ve just been freeloading off of you for two and a half weeks now. Now, I’m going to go with you to this event and end up embarrassing you because I’m going to stick out like a sore thumb compared to everyone else there. They’ll know I don’t belong there and I just-”
You cut yourself off, and you want to avert your gaze from Dazai’s but you can’t bring yourself to. Instead, you watch as something akin to amusement flashes through his eye. He takes one of your hands into his and brings it up to his lips, eye sliding shut for a moment as he kisses your knuckles. You let out a shaky puff of air as his lips linger for a moment before he looks up at you again through his lashes.
“Let me help you get dressed,” he murmurs, and you look down at the ground now as you nod, letting him help you to your feet and lead you over to where the dress is hanging up on the closet door.
He pulls it off the hanger and guides you into it, pulling it up and adjusting it so that it covers you properly. He steps behind you, and you realize that he also has you standing in front of the floor length mirror set up on his closet door. You sniffle a bit again as you look at yourself in the mirror.
Your makeup looks a bit smudged beneath your eye from the tears gathering at your lash line, but somehow, you still look beautiful. You think it’s only because of the dress, the way it clings to your body so nicely and brightens all of your features. You take in another shuddered gulp of air when you feel Dazai begin to zip up the back of your dress slowly, each brush of his fingers against your skin lights your nerves on fire, and once he finally has it zipped to the top, he kisses the nape of your neck, hands falling to your hips to caress them gently. Your eyes flutter shut as you lean back against him, his comforting hold settling your turbulent emotions.
“I met you at the club every Friday because you were the only relief I had from reality,” he finally says, resting his forehead on your shoulder as he holds you. “I indulged your requests because I was indulging in you myself. Every moment I spent with you, I allowed myself to be Dazai Osamu, the person, and not the… Not what I’ve had to become to keep this organization running.”
Your breath catches, lips parting at his words but no sound escapes them. He kisses the nape of your neck one last time before he moves to stand in front of you, kneeling down again as he grabs one of your heels and undos the buckle. You watch with bated breath as he lifts your left foot from the ground to kiss your ankle before sliding the heel on, deft fingers fasting the clasp.
“I gave you a place to stay because I was selfish and I wanted you around more,” he sighs, resting his forehead against your knee now as he lingers there for a moment before moving on to repeat the process with your other foot, kissing your ankle and slipping the heel on. He continues, “Likewise, I have kept you surrounded by people because I have been desperately afraid that you’re going to get bored and want to leave because work leaves me little time to be around. Unfortunately, I’m not the generous person you’re making me out to be, I’m horribly self-serving and greedy, especially when it comes to you.”
He looks up at you now from where he’s kneeling in front of you, gaze searching your face. You want to reach out and cup his cheek, so you do, and immediately, he’s turning his face to kiss your palm just as you’d done to him before letting his eye slide shut as he leans into your touch, as if basking in it.
“I would give you anything you want,” he admits softly, keeping his gaze shut as he holds your palm against his face. “Anything. And if it was something outside of my reach, I would make it in my reach. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, no lengths I wouldn’t go to and no lines I wouldn’t cross.”
You think your lungs might be burning, you don’t think you can breathe as you stare down at him, heart thudding in your swelling chest, tears building in your eyes again but this time not out of insecurity. Dazai finally rises to his feet after placing one last kiss upon your knuckles, and he doesn’t say anything as he makes his way over to the dresser where he’d placed the blue box.
You don’t move, watching as he opens it and pulls something out before making his way back over to you, standing behind you. He looks at you through the mirror as he lifts his hands to place a glittering diamond necklace upon your collarbone. You can’t breathe again, you realize, it’s cool against your skin and you think it might be the most expensive thing you’ve ever laid your eyes upon, dozens upon dozens of white diamonds shimmering in the mirror in front of you. Your skin feels like it’s on fire as his fingers brush the nape of your neck as he clasps it onto you.
“You are beautiful,” he says, voice so raw that you almost shiver at the intensity of it. His fingers brush your hips as if he’s afraid to touch you. “You are beautiful, and intelligent, and everything I have ever wanted. You deserve so much more than me, more than you’ll ever be able to understand, and I’m sorry that I’m not a good enough man to do what’s right and let you go. The last thing you should ever be doubting is this.”
His eye slides shut again as he lets out a soft puff of air, the warmth fans across the back of your neck and you think you could spend forever in this moment with him, wishing that you could freeze time.
“You said that you thought it was fate that brought us together,” he finally finishes, voice quiet as he references what you told him the first time you met. “Don’t ever doubt your place with me. Wherever I am, you belong, whether it’s a club, or an apartment, or an event.”
“I thought you hate the idea of fate,” you say, voice a bit choked as you try to force the tears back again.
“I do,” he affirms, “but if fate brought us together, then far be it from me to deny the one thing in this world that has ever made me happy.”
You love him.
You feel sick to your stomach—be it from butterflies or the implications of the realization. The words threaten to burst from your lips but you swallow them, instead, another tear trails down your face and he sees it through the mirror, lifting his hand to wipe it away before leaning a bit over your shoulder to press his lips to your jaw.
“I’m ruining my makeup,” you rasp, letting out another shaky breath.
He smiles against your skin.
“You’ll be beautiful still,” he murmurs before pulling back, admiring you for a moment before he asks: “Are you ready to go?”
You nod. “Yeah,” you say, a bit breathless. “I’m ready.”
“Everyone is staring at us.”
You’re not wrong, exactly. As soon as the two of you had entered the room, all attention was sent your way, and though the music was loud enough to drown out most chatter (intentional, of course, so unsavory ears can’t overhear even more unsavory dealings), Dazai couldn’t help but notice the hush that spread through the room at the sight of you. The boss of the Port Mafia with a date on his arm was certainly a sight to behold to all of the rest of the occupants of the event hall,.
“Can you blame them? You look beautiful,” he says, voice laced with a teasing edge that is certainly not matched in his expression. Dazai knew people would be looking at you if he brought you here. Still, he wants to gouge their eyes out.
His arm tightens around you as he tucks you into his side, cold gaze sweeping across the massive event hall. At least two hundred people are attending Nabokov’s event—an even mixture of pharmaceutical tycoons, technology barons, politicians and mafiosos.
At first glance, he recognizes four different mafias in attendance.
Mishima Yukio of the Sun and Steel stands by one of his associates, the president of Mitsubishi Chemical Group; the man’s dark eyes card over Dazai with lazy interest, before his head tilts to the side as he studies you.
Dazai thinks that the Sun and Steel might be the Port Mafia’s only allies in attendance, and even then, allies might be taking it too far. The extent of Dazai’s dealing with Mishima was a general agreement to not encroach the Sun and Steel’s monopoly over the narcotics industry—which Dazai never intended on doing anyway because the industry is far more trouble than it's worth—and an unspoken promise to protect Japan’s underground from foreign mafias.
Dazai wonders if that unspoken promise still holds or if the Russians have cut a deal with him.
Nabokov’s Pale Flame, obviously, is in attendance, along with the remnants of Leo Tolstoy’s Three Deaths. Tolstoy himself is sitting at the bar, a glass of whiskey in hand as he leans back on the stool, gaze focused on you. Nabokov is off to the left, making his way across the room to greet Dazai, a curious expression on his face. Dazai recognizes Cao Xueqin of the Red Chamber sitting near Kitazawa Michihiro of Fuji Electric, one of the Port Mafia’s closest associates; and Dazai thinks that might be a bit foreboding, both because of the presence of the Chinese and the company he’s keeping.
Dostoevsky’s House of the Dead is nowhere to be seen, but Dazai knows that they’re here. Somewhere. He just has to find him—and he will.
More eyes are on you than him, and although that was to be expected, Dazai can’t fight the doubt that suddenly swirls in his chest, wondering if he’d made the right decision. If you hadn’t been on people’s radar already, you definitely are now, and the thought makes him a bit sick to his stomach. He tries to console himself with the fact that this was the lesser of two evils—the mere chance of you being on the radar of any of the mafias in this room, no matter how slim it might be, was not something he could gamble with. There was no way he could let you go out alone and unprotected. People like them, people like him, would jump on the chance to take advantage of the weakness and he couldn’t let that happen.
But is this really any better?
He’s thrown you into a pit of snakes, and you’re ignorant to all of the threats around you. His gaze drifts back down to you, catching the way your brows are knit together slightly, the way your lips are pressed in a thin line. There’s an indecipherable look in your eyes as your gaze shifts over the room, and Dazai wonders if you know more than you’re letting on. That’s another scary thought, but he can at least find comfort in it for now because it’ll have you keeping your guard up around these people. He’ll just have to deal with the consequences later.
He dips his head down to your ear, speaking quietly before Nabokov finally reaches him: “Just follow my lead, you’ll be fine.”
The look you shoot at him is nothing short of withering, and Dazai can’t help the smile that curves at the corners of his lips as he lifts his head back up to subtly brush his lips against your temple. He catches sight of movement from the corner of his eye and any softness that might’ve been visible in his expression washes away instantly.
“Dazai,” Nabokov greets, beady eyes flickering between you and Dazai, partially curious about you and partially nervous about Dazai. Dazai tilts his head to the side, becoming increasingly more unamused the longer Nabokov’s gaze lingers on you. “I’m glad you came. I wanted to apologize for not being able to attend our planned meeting a few months ago.”
“So I heard.” Dazai’s voice is short and distant, more focused on the feeling of you tucked into his side than the conversation at hand. He has to force himself to keep his gaze steady on Nabokov, wanting to look down at you, but he contents himself with letting his hand slide down to your hip, rubbing absent circles against the silky material of your dress.
Nabokov fumbles over Dazai’s clipped response, a bead of sweat gathering at the corner of his forehead. He wishes he could peer into your head and see what you’re thinking, about him, about this, about everything. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to get through the night without you realizing who he is, what he is, and that thought scares him because he thinks that maybe he should have been the one to explain it to you, so he could at least try to paint himself in a better light. Although, he’s not sure what sort of light would make anything about him look better.
“Who is this?” Nabokov finally asks, turning his attention toward you. Dazai doesn’t like the way he looks at you, eyes raking over you like you’re a piece of meat.
“My partner.” To Dazai’s credit, his voice is much smoother than the turbulent emotions in his chest would suggest. “Where is your wife, Nabokov?”
Nabokov doesn’t even respond to the question, laughing loudly. “Never thought I’d see the day you found yourself a lover, Dazai,” he chuckles and then holds his hand out to you. “Vladimir Nabokov.”
You shift a bit to take his hand, but Dazai is faster, lithe fingers wrapping around Nabokov’s wrist in an agonizingly tight grip. Nabokov winces, Dazai’s face is cold as he stares down at the man.
“Keep your hands to yourself,” he warns, keeping his voice low.
Vladimir Nabokov. Invitation to a Beheading. An ability that grants its user to draw a target into an interdimensional space through physical touch—Dazai isn’t sure what the space entails because no one has ever left it alive.
Nabokov tries to laugh it off, weaker this time as he takes his hand back and shakes out his wrist. “My, Dazai, possessive, aren’t you?”
“Very,” Dazai agrees idly. “Be sure to remember that.”
Nabokov gives him another wavering smile, and Dazai can’t help but wonder how Dostoevsky could have possibly thought anyone would believe the man could head the tripartite alliance of the Pale Flame, Three Deaths, and the House of the Dead. Anyone with half of a brain would know that Dostoevsky is behind their union. Maybe that’s what he wanted, Dazai notes absently as he watches Nabokov’s gaze flicker to the upper left corner of the room. Dazai follows it to where a camera is positioned, encompassing most of the event hall.
The smile on his lips is nearly as chilly as the air-conditioned room around him.
There you are.
Dazai’s gaze cuts back to Kouyou, who’s standing a few feet behind you and Dazai with Chuuya, Ace and Piano Man. The woman inclines her head in recognition of his silent order as she fans her face lightly, taking a step away to make a call to Hirotsu, who should be stationed around the building with the rest of the Black Lizards by now, prepared to move in at the first sign of danger.
Nabokov looks as if he’s going to speak again, which inclines Dazai to believe that he’s seeking something out in particular for Dostoevsky, and from the way he keeps glancing at you, Dazai assumes it has to do with you. So as the man's lips waver, eyes darting as he tries to formulate another conversation opener, Dazai speaks before he can get the words out.
“If you don’t mind,” he says, voice cold and clipped as he all but dismisses Nabokov, who flushes a bit, nodding and apologizing before stepping away.
Dazai realizes that he probably has not prepped you enough for this event, but in his defense, he’s been swamped with his own preparations and how is he supposed to prepare you when he can’t even fully explain all of the dangers? But now, it’s making him anxious, because at some point tonight he’s going to have to step away from you to meet with Nabokov in one of the backrooms, likely with Tolstoy, Cao, and Mishima. Dazai’s executives will have to be there with him, and Tachihara is supposed to slip from the shadows to join you while you wait for his return, but there’s likely going to be at least a good two to three minutes where you’ll be alone until Tachihara can get to you. That’s assuming he doesn’t get caught up on the way over.
He needs to talk to you, at least warn you about the ability users attending the event so you don’t accidentally stumble into a potentially lethal situation without him around.
If he goes to the bar, Tolstoy will take advantage to try to sweep you into a conversation, picking up right where Nabokov left off. If he goes off to the left side of the room, Cao will make his way over to interrupt. If he goes off to the right side of the room, Mishima is there. The only place… Dazai inhales as his gaze focuses on the massive dance floor of the event hall, dozens of couples are spinning around already, and it will be loud enough there for the music to drown out his conversation with you from unwelcome listeners.
He turns his attention to you, holding his palm up and tucking one arm behind his back as he asks lightly, “May I have this dance?”
Your eyes widen a bit in surprise, seemingly hyper aware of all of the hungry, curious glances of the other attendants directed your way, but he’s only focused on you, and the way your eyes glitter beneath the chandelier’s lights, and the way your dress clings to your body, and the way a soft smile tugs at your lips. He thinks that even if you hadn’t entered the event on his arm, all of the room’s attention would be on you still, because you’re beautiful, and captivating, and Dazai doesn’t think he’ll ever understand how he managed to pull you in one lifetime, much less all of them.
You place your hand in his and Dazai guides you across the floor, intent on finding the perfect space. It’s hardly obvious the way that the other people on the dance floor would inch away as the two of you passed by, intent on staying out of Dazai’s way and letting him have whatever space he wants, but you pick up on it, he thinks, seeing the curious look in your eyes as your gaze sweeps around the people around you. He bites back a sigh, because he’s sure that you’re tallying everything up in your head trying to put it all together, and once you get that final puzzle piece, everything will be over.
His chest sinks at the thought of losing you, but he forces it away. He has to focus on the situation at hand because even a single slip up could be fatal—not only for him, but for you too. As soon as he reaches a suitable spot on the dance floor, he tugs you a bit closer to him, hands sliding down to your waist. Your own arms instantly come up to loop around his neck as you look up at him through your lashes and Dazai suddenly feels breathless, vision tunneling and heartbeat stuttering at the way you look at him.
God, how is he supposed to focus with you around? He can hardly concentrate on anything but you. He’s flying too close to the sun. Has been since the moment he met you. Drawing you into his life and keeping you there, now bringing you here, so many gambles, too many gambles… the heat is scorching, and it’s only a matter of time before his wings burn. If he was smart, he’d let you go so that you don’t burn with him, but his fingers only bite deeper into your waist at the thought.
The music is slow, and the two of you sway in tune to it. The other couples give a wide berth, some casting wary looks at Dazai, ones that he’s sure you’re catching. He doesn’t know where to start, or how to start; what does he tell you that doesn’t condemn him? Luckily, he doesn’t have to start the conversation because you do, for better or for worse.
“Was that man the rival that Gin mentioned?” you ask curiously, and Dazai can’t help but notice there’s a strange look in your eyes as you ask it, one that he can’t place.
He hesitates, but then says, “No. He wasn’t. I haven’t seen him yet.”
You hum lightly, fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck in a way that makes him shiver. But his eyes narrow when he realizes that you don’t look the slightest bit surprised by his answer.
“You knew that already,” he accuses lightly, and he forces himself to swallow the lump that suddenly forms in his throat because if you figured that out on your own already, what else have you figured out? God, he knew this was risky, you’ve always been ridiculously perceptive—he just needs to get through tonight without you putting everything together, then he’ll be fine.
“I suspected it,” you finally affirm his accusation, gaze searching his face. “He was nervous talking to you. If he was your rival, I’d expect him to be a bit more… assured. And he kept looking up toward a camera, like he knew someone was watching that he’d have to answer to.”
Oh, you did pick up on a lot more than he expected. He doesn’t think that the smile he gives you quite meets his eyes, if the way your brows furrow have anything to say about it, but he distracts you by bringing his hand up from your waist to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over your bottom lip as he murmurs, “That’s my girl, always so smart.”
Your lashes flutter as you avert your gaze, a tell tale sign of you being flustered. His lips quirk up into a more genuine smile, hand dropping back down to your waist. He can do this, he tells himself, he just has to be careful, tell you enough to make sure your guard is up and you know to at least some extent that the people in this room aren’t to be trusted.
“There are a lot of ability users in here,” he finally warns, careful to keep his voice low even with the music covering his words. “Do your best to keep your distance from people. I’ll stay with you as much as I can, but I’m going to get pulled away sooner or later. Chuuya or Piano Man will stay with you when they can, and if they’re pulled away, Tachihara is going to come down to stay with you.”
“... That’s why you didn’t let him shake my hand,” you say, realization flashing through your eyes, another puzzle piece fitting behind your eyes and Dazai has to be careful because it’s only a matter of time before you’re given that final piece and everything comes together. “What’s his ability?”
“... Nothing good,” he answers after a few moments of silence, but you’re not content with that, brows furrowing. He sighs. “No confirmation on it, we only know it’s lethal. Many are in here.”
Your eyes widen and then you look a bit skeptical. “And you think they would use it here? In public?” you ask slowly.
To Dazai’s horror, it is not skepticism tainting your tone, but rather, you’re fishing for information, trying to put more pieces together, and he doesn’t have much choice but to give you answers because he can’t risk you setting your guard down even for a second.
He chooses his words carefully. “... There is little they wouldn’t do to get ahead in our business.”
“Hm,” is all you say in response, something akin to understanding flashing through your eyes and Dazai dreads to know what his answer has just told you. He feels distinctly like he’s playing chess against an opponent he did not anticipate and he’s at a disadvantage because the opponent is you. He can feel your shoulders slump suddenly, an unfamiliar expression crossing over your face; you look tired, as if you’d aged twenty years in a matter of seconds. “What did you get me involved with, Dazai?”
You say it so softly that Dazai barely hears it himself, and he knows. He knows that you’ve figured something out, he doesn’t know what and he doesn’t want to know what. He wants to evade it as long as possible, because the moment he has to have this conversation with you, he knows he’ll lose you. He can’t think about that now, it’ll throw him off and this is the last place he can allow himself to be thrown off.
Instead, his grip on your waist tightens again, gaze averting down toward the ground.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. The words weigh heavy on his tongue, not just an apology for tonight but an apology for accepting your offer for a drink two months ago, knowing he wouldn’t be strong enough to let it be a single night of indulgence; an apology for seeking you out again afterward, knowing that he would be sentencing you to death.
He feels sick.
What is he doing?
Why are you here?
What has he done?
“Dazai.”
You say his name but Dazai hardly hears you. God, he can feel it happening, where his fingers are pressed against your body, the skin suddenly goes cold and stiff, his surroundings are blurring, the people fading into the background. This isn’t the place. Nabokov. Tolstoy. Mishima. Cao. He can’t lose himself, not now, but his grip on reality is starting to waver, the pages pile around him.
“Dazai.”
What has he done?
Everything he’s planned for, seven years of careful calculations and planning gone down the drain. How does he even fix this? Can he fix this? His mind races, but he’s not even sure he’s thinking coherent thoughts, trying to ground himself to the present because he needs to stay here, he can figure out how to fix it later, when you’re not in danger but-
His vision swims. Not now. He can see it—he can see you. Still on the ground. Sometimes there’s blood, so much that he can hardly recognize you (but he can, of course, he can always recognize you, even when your body is littered with more gaping wounds than not). Sometimes it looks like you’re sleeping, so much so that Dazai kneels next to you, begging you to wake up (he knows in his heart that it’s futile. he can’t stop himself from trying). His head spins, he loses track of where he is and then-
“Osamu.”
His breath catches, gaze zeroing in on you. You. Alive. Your brows are furrowed in concern, searching his face to try to draw him back to reality. He thinks his grip on your waist must be painful but he can’t bring himself to loosen it at all. He stares at you, still desperately trying to keep himself grounded because although you’ve brought him back mostly, the corners of the pages still linger in the edge of his vision, threatening to consume him again.
“You can’t leave me,” you tell him quietly. “You brought me here. I need you here with me. Don’t go off somewhere I can’t follow.”
Oh.
He lets out a breath, slow and maybe a bit more shaky than he would’ve liked, but he tries to focus on the situation at hand. He loosens his grip on your waist, rubbing a gentle circle over your hip in an apology.
His gaze drifts around the room, Nabokov is in deep conversation with Cao, hardly paying attention to anything going on, but Cao’s sharp, dark eyes are pointed over Nabokov’s shoulder, scanning the dance floor. He’s looking for someone—not Dazai, which is a bit worrying, and he becomes all the more attentive to everyone in the vicinity, trying to make sure none of the Red Chamber’s assassins made it through the security. If any organization would be able to pull it off, it would be them.
Once he’s decided the coast is clear, he turns his gaze back to the bar. Tolstoy is looking at him—blue eyes sharp, blonde hair hanging in them, a curious expression on his face as he sips at his drink and watches as Dazai dances with you. As soon as Tolstoy notices Dazai has caught him, his lips curl up into a smirk and he raises his drink. Dazai’s expression is cold as he looks away, seeking out Mishima only to find the man nowhere to be found.
Hm.
Chuuya and Kouyou are entertaining idle conversation with two executives of the Sun and Steel, both keeping a sharp eye on where you and Dazai sway on the dance floor. Piano Man is entertaining several politicians, doing a good job at ensuring that none of the other foreign executives get any chance to get their ears. Ace, Dazai notes, is in deep conversation in the shadows with one of the executives of the Three Deaths.
Interesting.
He finally draws his attention back to you, a small smile on his lips as he recalls what you’d said to drag him from his spiral.
Osamu,
“You called me Osamu,” he murmurs, a warm feeling spreading through his chest as he focuses on that instead, trying to ease himself back into reality. Technically, he’s heard you say his given name before. Well. Not technically. It was never you and it was never him, rather it was vague memories of other yous and other hims, but it was nothing in comparison to hearing you actually say it.
You look embarrassed, averting your gaze. “I didn’t know how to get your attention, I’m s-”
“Say it again,” he whispers, lifting his hand back up to your chin to tilt your face back up, forcing you to look at him. His eyes search yours, watching the way you can hardly hold his gaze. You look hesitant, so he continues with, “Please.”
“... Osamu,” you say again, breathless, and god, Dazai wishes the two of you were anywhere but here. He wants to press you back against his bed, run his lips up and down your body, map out all of your curves with his hand. He wants to watch you come undone on his tongue and on his fingers—he wants you, he wants you more than anything else in the world. Every time he’s tried to take the next step with you the past few weeks, he either got interrupted by work or he ended up getting cold feet, nervous about making a mistake.
Before his thoughts can spiral even more, the music picks up to a faster paced waltz. Your eyes widen, watching as all of the other couples shift into the respective dance. You look up at him, a bit panicked, clearly not sure what to do, and his lips curl up in amusement, beckoning you to lace your fingers with his to take the stance the other couples were taking.
“I don’t know this da-” you begin, voice hushed.
“Just follow my lead,” he repeats the same words he spoke to you when they entered the hall. “You’ll be fine. Trust me.”
You exhale, studying his face for a moment before sighing and mimicking the stance the other women took with their partners. He can feel your fingers wavering against his as he interlocks your fingers and he rubs his thumb over the back of your hand soothingly.
“Keep your eyes on me,” he tells you, just as the music finally picks up for the dance to start.
He thinks you’re worried for nothing. You moved smoothly in line with him and in tune with the music, gliding across the dance floor as if you’ve danced with him hundreds of times before, your body so in sync with his that the two of you put all of the other couples to shame. Not that any of them matter, of course, you’re all that Dazai can focus on. Your eyes never leave his, not even for the sparest of moments, and Dazai feels like he’s caught in a trance, lost in your eyes and the feeling of your body so close to his, hyper aware of the way your your hand rests on his shoulder and the way your fingers are wrapped tight around his.
God, there’s something so otherworldly about you. Doesn’t know if it’s heavenly or supernatural, if you’re his angel sent to lead him to salvation or his very own siren singing a sweet melody to lead him to ruin. Doesn’t think he cares either way—salvation, damnation, none of it matters as long as he has you.
“Not so bad, hm?” he murmurs, sweeping you out into a spin before pulling you back to him, closer this time. He can feel your chest brush his and he prays you can’t feel the way he’s lost control of his heart, painfully cognizant of the erratic thumping. His hand slides from your hip to the small of your back, holding you close to him. He could stay in this moment forever, surroundings drowning out; all he can see is you, all that matters is you.
“Yeah,” you say softly. “Not so bad.”
His lips part to respond but he’s interrupted when he sees movement from the corner of his eye, freezing.
“Dazai.”
Dazai stiffens as a familiar voice speaks from behind him, shifting to stand partially in front of you as his gaze cuts to the side to see Mishima’s familiar figure standing a few feet away. Turning to face him, he asks, “Do you need something?”
“I’d like to speak to you before we meet with Tolstoy, Nabokov and Cao.”
Mishima’s voice leaves no room for argument, dark eyes absent of any emotion as he waits for Dazai to follow him. Dazai’s jaw tightens, eyes drifting back to you as he tries to figure out what to do. He can’t leave you here, not with Cao’s hawk-like gaze trained on the dancefloor and Tolstoy waiting for the opportunity to make a move. But he does need to talk to Mishima, have some idea of where he stands with the Sun and Steel before facing all of the foreigners.
“May I have this dance?”
Dazai hadn’t even heard Chuuya approach, turning to the side to watch as he holds a hand out toward you expectantly, quick to step in to take Dazai’s place so that you’re not alone. You shoot Dazai a concerned glance, brows furrowing a bit, before you place your hand in Chuuya’s.
Chuuya leads you back onto the dance floor, Dazai’s gaze lingers for a few moments, a bitter feeling spreads through his chest because that should be him, and it’s wholly unfair that he has to deal with all of this unsavory business when he should be spending time with you.
He should just kill them all here and be done with it.
The words ring through his head, echoing, tempting. He inhales and forces himself to look away as you loop your arms around Chuuya’s shoulders, swaying in tune to the slow song playing. He turns his attention back to Mishima, voice cool and expression void of emotion:
“Speak.”
Dancing with Nakahara Chuuya is awkward. Awkward is even being generous. It’s not like he’s a bad dancer—in fact, it’s clear that he’s a very good one. He’s smooth on his feet as he spins you around the dance floor, but he’s so stiff. He’s careful to keep space between the two of you, hands never dipping lower than your sides, lips pressed together. He hardly even looks at you, his attention is more on where Dazai had stepped to the side to speak with the dark-haired man who’d interrupted the two of you, but you’re grateful for it, because it’s giving you a chance to gather your thoughts.
You think Dazai might’ve inadvertently confirmed your suspicions from yesterday. You don’t know who these people are, but there’s no way any ordinary business event would be dangerous enough for Dazai to genuinely worry that someone might kill you in a room crowded with two hundred people. A part of you wonders if it’s just different for ability users, that they’re not scared of committing crimes in public because they have an ability that prevents them from getting caught, but you know you’re just trying to make excuses at this point.
Your gaze drifts back over to the older, light-haired man with dark eyes who’d approached you and Dazai when you walked in. He’s off to the side talking with a Chinese man dressed in a red suit—your gaze lingers, trying to piece together the puzzle in your head desperately, but all of the edges are jagged and confusing, you can’t seem to figure out where they each fit with each other.
You’d thought maybe that Dazai and his business was somehow affiliated with the mafia, because no one with the amount of money and success that he has gets it cleanly, but now you can’t help but hesitate, reconsidering your original theory. Vladimir Nabokov had been scared of Dazai. And it’s not like you haven’t noticed the effect that Dazai has on people. Whenever you’re around people with him, they get tense and on edge, but it’s different seeing the effect he has on someone who doesn’t even work for him, a foreigner supposed to be one of Dazai’s associates if you understood what he meant about not showing up to a meeting.
Who are you, Dazai?
You don’t even know if you want to know. You love Dazai. You do. You knew it earlier in the night. You know it now. It’s something you can no longer hide or deny. You remember the concerned look on his face when he saw how upset you were. You can feel the way his lips brushed the nape of your neck as he explained why he kept meeting you at the club, the way he kissed your ankles as he knelt in front of you and told you how he was selfish for keeping you around, how he kissed your palm and leaned into your touch as he promised you anything you want. God, you love him, you don’t think anyone has ever looked at you the way he does; no one has ever spoken to you the way he does.
You love him, and it scares you because you’re realizing you still don’t know anything about him, not really, and you’re also realizing that there’s a high chance he’s been lying to you about what he does. It scares you even more that your first instinct isn’t to run. Because you should run. This should make you run. He brought you to an event with people so dangerous that he’s afraid they might try to hurt you, or worse, but you don’t want to run, because you’d be running from him and you don’t want to run from him.
Could you sacrifice everything for him though?
Fuck your morals—everything you’ve worked for, all of the years slaving away to put yourself on the path to success. You’ve told yourself your entire life that it would be all you would focus on, that it would all be worth it in the end. You convinced yourself that maybe if you proved yourself enough, your brother would return to your life; he’d be proud of you and he’d come back to you. You know he’s still out there somewhere, you get letters with no return address every month—the only thing in the envelope is a check with a dubious amount of money, but it’s in his hand writing, so you know it’s him.
A part of you wants to cry, frustration clawing at your chest: the future you’ve worked so hard for, or love? The question you’ve dreaded since your epiphany yesterday is finally thrown right in front of your face, and you need an answer. The two are mutually exclusive—you will not be able to pursue the career you want with Dazai Osamu, not in the way you want at least. And you don’t want to do all of this work to just end up being another shady politician.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
Your gaze snaps up to Chuuya, who’s suddenly looking at you, and you don’t really know how to respond.
I’m pretty sure you guys are part of the fucking Mafia and you’re all hiding it from me, but also I don’t want to know if you are because that’s going to force me to make a decision that I don’t want to make so I’d rather live in ignorance.
“My thoughts are only worth a penny?” You deflect with a grin instead, hoping it meets your eyes.
It doesn’t, evidently, because Chuuya’s eyes narrow a bit, and then he tilts his head to the side and hits you with a more direct: “What’s wrong?”
“I’m just worried,” you finally say, not entirely lying but also not telling the truth.
“About?” Chuuya presses and you sigh, exhaling a bit.
“He mentioned that there were dangerous people here,” you tell him quietly. “I’m just nervous for when you guys go to your meeting… I’m guessing it’s going to be soon.”
Chuuya’s brows furrow and you can see the thoughts racing behind his eyes before he speaks again. “You’ll be fine,” he tells you. “We have people all over the event hall, and Tachihara is going to sit with you until you Dazai can get back. Dazai shouldn’t have worried you with all of this. He shouldn’t have even-”
He cuts himself off, jaw tightening, but you know what he’s going to say: he shouldn’t have even brought you here.
“I don’t know what he’s thinking,” Chuuya says quietly, and you think he might be talking more to himself than anything else now, but you listen anyway. “He’s always been hard to read but this is…”
He stops speaking out loud, as if he’s realized that you’re there again, and instead he shakes his head. “You’ll be fine. Back at the headquarters before you know it.”
You aren’t so sure.
Your gaze drifts to the side as you watch Nabokov and the Chinese man make their way over to Dazai and the man he’s talking to. The blonde at the bar that Dazai kept looking at also stands up, drink in his hand as walks in the same direction.
Chuuya spits out a curse under his breath and gives you an apologetic look. Your heart sinks and your throat feels a bit tight—he doesn’t abandon you right away though, pressing his hand to the middle of your back as he guides you across the dancefloor to the bar, all the while keeping a keen eye on what’s happening on the other side of the room.
He pulls the barstool out for you, eyes still trained on where Dazai is standing with Kouyou, two men that work for him you haven’t met yet, and the four men you assume are business associates of his. Dazai is looking at you, an indecipherable expression on his face. You’re looking at him, suddenly anxious at the thought of being left alone, a bad feeling sweeping over you.
“Tachihara will be over here soon,” Chuuya finally says to you, tearing his gaze from his coworkers to look back down at you. He flags down the bartender to order a drink for you. “You’ll be fine. Knowing Dazai, the meeting won’t last long anyway.”
Your shoulders only slump a bit as you nod, thanking the bartender quietly for your drink as he hurries to bring it back to you, taking a sip of it. Chuuya doesn’t say much else—once you’re settled in your seat and have your drink, he squeezes your shoulder before making his way back over to the intimidating group of people standing on the opposite side of the room.
Your gaze meets Dazai’s conflicted one one last time before he’s forced to turn away and disappears down a side hall deeper into the building. You sigh as you twirl your drink around, the clear liquid sloshing dangerously close to the brim of your glass as your eyes twist around the event hall, seeking out Tachihara, or Atsushi, or anyone that works with Dazai because you’re feeling distinctly vulnerable alone. You find none of them. You can feel eyes on you—most you’re sure are harmless curiosity, wanting to know who exactly came in on the arm of Dazai Osamu, but you know some aren’t nearly as harmless, you can feel the hungry stares of vicious opportunists directed at your back and you don’t feel comfortable sitting alone.
You don’t even get five minutes to yourself.
“Is this seat taken?”
You’re startled by the unfamiliar voice, head snapping to the side. Your gaze focuses on a pretty man with soft features, shoulder-length black hair and gentle purple eyes. Your lips part to speak, but no words leave them, caught off-guard by his sudden appearance. He looks harmless enough, but there’s something about him that has you on edge—something simmering beneath the surface of his deceptive eyes that you can’t quite place but you know you don’t like.
“I mean no harm,” he says smoothly, lips curving up into an amiable smile. “I’m an old friend of Dazai’s. I only want to talk.”
An old friend. You don’t buy it, but you don’t want to risk antagonizing him, Dazai’s warning about the many lethal ability users prowling the event ringing through your head. You just hope that Tachihara shows up sooner rather than later as you finally shake your head.
“It’s not taken,” you say quietly, motioning to the stool as you take another generous sip of your drink.
The dark-haired man smiles at you as he takes a seat at the bar next to you, teeth glimmering like knives beneath the lighting of the chandelier. Instantly, you feel like you’ve made a mistake, a chill running down your spine as your eyes meet purple ones that are not quite so gentle anymore. Sharp and shrewd instead. Calculating. Dangerous.
“Fyodor Dostoevsky. A pleasure, truly.”
#dazai x reader#dazai x you#dazai osamu x reader#dazai osamu x you#bsd x reader#bsd x you#bungo stray dogs x reader#bungo stray dogs x you
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My Missing Piece
616!Wanda x 199999!Fem!Reader
Summary: You've lost your wife Wanda. Leaving you alone with your twin boys to try and pick up the pieces. What happens when the Scarlet Witch comes looking for her boys?
Word Count: 10.4K
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, R calls W Mommy, W uses pet names, enchanted strap use, Dom!Wanda, sub!reader, overstimulation, magic restraints, depressive thoughts/episodes.
A/N: Made this forever ago and forgot about it until like two days ago lol. I really liked the idea of this so I hope you guys enjoy~ Also I decided that world 199999 (which was the original MCU world number before MoM turned it to 616) is just a parallel world where no one died :)
Every night after tucking my boys, Billy and Tommy in to bed, I have a bit of me time. Sometimes I watch TV, sometimes I'll scroll through social media on my phone, sometimes I'll write because I was told that was supposed to help with grief, it hasn't so far, what helps the most is when I talk to her before bed, "I miss you Wands...our boys miss you too...of course they love their Mama, but you're their Mommy. You carried them for nine months, you were in labor for just over a day." Tommy was born first 12 minutes ahead of his brother Billy. "You gave so much for our boys and our life here and I wish you had never said yes to that mission after all these years..." I break down, quiet sobs wrack me as I curl up on her side of the bed. It still smells like her.
I let sleep take me as I have the same dream I do every night. Wanda, but not Wanda...some twisted version of her with black fingers, and she just seems off, but she's searching, as if she can see me? She's looking for our boys. Every morning just as she finds me, us, I wake up. Dried tears on my cheeks and my eyes red. The bags under my eyes have never been darker, but I cover them up as I get out of bed to start yet another day without my wife.
The alarm blares through the quiet of the room, jolting me awake from my restless slumber. With a heavy sigh, I reach over to silence it, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Another day begins, much like every other since she left us.
I stumble out of bed, the weight of grief still heavy on my shoulders as I move through the motions of the morning routine. It's a struggle to keep it together, but I have to be strong for Billy and Tommy. They need me, even though every fiber of my being aches for her presence.
As I make my way downstairs, the memories flood back, hitting me like a tidal wave. Wanda was always the light in our lives, her laughter echoing through the halls, her warmth enveloping us like a comforting embrace. But now, there's only emptiness.
I try to push the thoughts aside as I prepare breakfast for the boys, forcing a smile as they bound into the kitchen, their youthful energy a stark contrast to my own weariness. They chatter excitedly about school and friends, oblivious to the pain that lingers beneath the surface.
After they've eaten and headed off to catch the bus, I sink into the solitude of the empty house once more. It's in these quiet moments that the ache is most palpable, the absence of her presence a constant reminder of all that we've lost.
I find myself drawn to her belongings, unable to resist the pull of her memory. Running my fingers over the familiar objects, I'm transported back to happier times, when our love felt invincible, untouchable by the darkness that now threatens to consume me.
But amidst the despair, there's a flicker of something else. A determination, a resolve to keep going, if not for myself then for her. She wouldn't want me to wallow in sorrow, to let the grief consume me. She'd want me to live, to cherish the memories we shared and find solace in the love that still remains.
With a deep breath, I push myself to my feet, wiping away the tears that threaten to fall. Today may be another struggle, another battle against the pain, but I refuse to let it defeat me. For Wanda, for our boys, I'll find the strength to carry on, one day at a time.
The day went by quickly and soon enough the boys were home filling up our home with noise once more,
"Boys homework first or no ice cream!" I call from the kitchen when I hear them start to fight over player one controller.
"Awww but Mama!" They whined.
"So you boys don't want ice cream tomorrow night either I see." I hear them grumble and then the TV go off, the sound of the dining room chairs scraping as I look over my shoulder to see they're working. "There are my good boys." I turn back smiling as I carry on with prepping dinner. Suddenly something feels off. A pit in my stomach starts forming and I feel eyes on me, not the boys though these feel predatory.
I look up and through the window I don't see my own reflection, I see Wanda, the same one I see in my dreams.
My heart leaps into my throat as I freeze, the knife in my hand forgotten as I stare wide-eyed at the impossible sight before me. It's her, but it's not. The twisted version from my nightmares, black fingers reaching out like tendrils of darkness, eyes filled with a hunger I can't comprehend.
I feel a chill run down my spine as her gaze locks onto mine, a shiver of fear coursing through my veins. Instinctively, I reach for the pendant hanging around my neck, fingers brushing against the smooth surface of the purple power stone embedded within. It's a comforting weight, a reminder of the power that pulses through me, but even it feels insignificant in the face of this apparition.
"What do you want?" I manage to choke out, my voice barely above a whisper. But she doesn't answer, only continues to stare, her presence suffocating in its intensity.
Desperation claws at the edges of my mind as I struggle to make sense of the situation. Is this some kind of illusion, a trick of the mind brought on by grief and exhaustion? Or is she truly here, some twisted echo of the woman I loved?
Before I can gather my thoughts, a sudden crash from the dining room snaps me back to reality. The boys, my precious boys, oblivious to the danger that lurks just beyond our walls. With a surge of adrenaline, I lunge forward, grabbing the nearest weapon within reach.
But as I turn back to face the window, she's gone, vanished into thin air like a wisp of smoke. The only evidence of her presence is the lingering sense of unease that hangs heavy in the air.
I rush to the dining room, relief flooding through me as I find the boys unharmed, their laughter filling the room once more. But even as I hold them close, a sense of dread lingers, a silent reminder that darkness still lurks just beyond the edges of our reality.
"Mama is everything okay?" Billy asks as I hold them, kissing the top of their heads.
"I just thought one of you got hurt. I'm happy you boys aren't." I lie to them as to not worry them, but Billy looks at me trying to search my thoughts. "Hey no mind reading little man." I ruffle his hair. "Everything is fine. If you boys are finished you can play one game, dinner will be ready in 15 minutes." The minutes tick by slowly as I finish preparing dinner, the aroma of comfort food filling the air. I glance at the clock, realizing that my boys are engrossed in their game, blissfully unaware of the turmoil swirling within me.
With a heavy sigh, I take a moment to compose myself before calling them to the table. As we gather for the meal, laughter and chatter resuming, I try to push the unsettling encounter out of my mind. But deep down, I know it's not over.
As we eat, the boys share stories from their day, their infectious joy momentarily easing the ache in my heart. I force a smile, savoring these small moments of normalcy in our fractured world.
After dinner, as the boys retreat to their rooms for the night, I find myself once again standing by the window, staring into the darkness beyond. The pit in my stomach returns, the unease settling in as I feel a presence lingering just out of sight.
The room is silent, save for the hum of the refrigerator and the distant sounds of the night. I close my eyes, summoning the courage to speak the words that linger on the tip of my tongue.
"Wanda, if you're out there, if you can hear me, please... don't hide. I don't know what's happening, but I can't face it alone. I need you, now more than ever." My voice trembles with a mix of desperation and longing.
The air remains still, the response elusive. I wait in silence, hoping for some sign, some reassurance that I'm not losing my mind. But the universe remains silent, withholding its secrets.
"Gods I feel like I'm going crazy Wands...how am I supposed to do this without you?" I feel the hot tears in my eyes, streak down my cheeks then suddenly a loud bang from the living room, the sound of a portal. "Stephan? Is that you?" It wasn't uncommon for Stephan Strange to pop in and check on me and the boys. Stephan had lost his love many years ago. Before I reach the living room, I hear the familiar sound of heels clicking on my hard wood flooring. Suddenly I'm standing face to face with the Wanda I've seen in my dreams...."W-Wands?" I questioned,
"A version. I've lost something precious to me and I've come to get it back." I look her over. It's Wanda, but not mine. As I get closer, Her hair is a different shade, her eyes are a little less of an emerald green and more of a sea green, this Wanda has a scar on her forehead, just above her left eyebrow.
"Oh...what has your universe done to you Detka?" I ask softly reaching out and she grabs my wrist with a force.
"It took everything from me." She seethed. "I want my boys back. I'm taking them." She tosses me aside like I'm nothing. Luckily with the power stone embedded in my chest. I push back, barreling back into her. Tackling her to the ground until I'm on top of her and it's then that she notices my stone, "You have the power stone...how? That's impossible. I've seen it kill people that touch it.
"I'm tough that's why my Wanda loved me." I had her pinned and used my own magic to subdue her. "I've been called the Violet Witch here for years. It became my code name."
"That can't be..." I give her a questioning look. "I'm the Scarlet Witch." She tells me, the scarlet witch? Wanda never said anything...? I stumble back off of her, reeling, "The Scarlet Witch." I let out a dry chuckle, "It makes sense, but I can't let you take my boys. If I loose them then That means I've lost my Wanda and them. I might as well die." I tell her,
"Wait so your Wanda is gone?" She asks. I nod,
"She was needed for a mission. I begged her not to go, we had retired from being Avengers 10 years ago when we found out she was pregnant. She told me everything would be fine. She promised me...and then suddenly I have Strange and Parker on my doorstep with Bucky and Sam behind them carry the casket." I feel my eyes blur as I walk over to the scarlet witch, "If you are another her then," I take her hands putting them up to my temples and ease my forehead onto her, letting my memories over the past ten years flood through her mind.
As our minds intertwine, I feel a rush of memories flooding into her consciousness. The love, the loss, the moments of joy and heartache that have shaped my existence since Wanda's departure. It's a whirlwind of emotions, a bittersweet symphony of love and grief that binds us together in ways I never thought possible.
For a moment, there's a flicker of recognition in her eyes, a glimmer of understanding amidst the chaos of her own turmoil. She sees the depth of my pain, the desperation to hold onto the fragments of a life that's slipping through my fingers.
But as quickly as it came, the moment passes, and she pulls away, her expression hardening once more. "I'm sorry for your loss," she says, her voice tinged with a hint of sympathy. "But my pain is just as real. I've lost everything too, and I'll do whatever it takes to reclaim what's mine."
I feel a pang of empathy for her, a shared sense of anguish that transcends the boundaries of our separate worlds. But beneath it all, there's a primal instinct, a fierce determination to protect my boys at all costs.
"I understand your pain," I reply, my voice steady despite the turmoil raging within. "But my boys are not yours to take. They belong here, with me, with their family."
She narrows her eyes, her resolve unwavering. "Then we're at an impasse," she says, her tone final. "I won't leave without them."
I take a step forward, meeting her gaze with steely determination. "Then I guess we'll just have to see who's stronger," I say, my voice echoing with a newfound resolve.
With that, the battle lines are drawn, two versions of Wanda Maximoff facing off against each other in a clash of wills and power. But amidst the chaos and uncertainty, one thing remains clear: no matter the outcome, I'll do whatever it takes to protect my boys and honor the memory of the woman I loved.
Her eyes meet mine, a mixture of pain and longing mirrored in their depths. The tear I wiped away lingers on her cheek, a testament to the shared sorrow we both carry. The silence stretches between us, heavy with unspoken emotions, and for a moment, time seems to hang suspended.
"I... I don't know if I can stay," she whispers, her voice choked with emotion. "But the offer, it means more than you can imagine. In my world, everything has crumbled, and I'm left with nothing but ashes and echoes of what once was."
I can feel the weight of her words, the burden of her grief, and I tighten my grip on her cheek, desperate to convey the sincerity of my plea. "Wanda, you don't have to face this alone. You're not just a version of her; you're your own person, with your own pain. But here, in this universe, you have a chance to rebuild, to find a new kind of family."
She opens her eyes, the sea-green gaze locking onto mine. There's a vulnerability in her expression, a crack in the stoic facade she wears. "I'm so tired," she admits, a raw honesty in her voice. "Tired of loss, tired of fighting. Maybe... maybe it's time for a different path."
A tentative smile plays on her lips, and my heart skips a beat. I wipe away another tear, this time a tear of relief. "You don't have to decide now," I say softly. "Take the time you need. But know that here, you have people who care, people who understand loss and are willing to help you carry the burden."
The room seems to brighten, as if the weight of the universe has lifted, if only for a moment. And in that moment, I see a glimmer of hope, a possibility for healing and connection that transcends the boundaries of our fractured worlds.
"I need to know one thing." She speaks, "Is Vision alive?" my brows furrow together.
"Vision? Who is that?" I ask genuinely confused.
"Wait...how did we meet here?" She asks.
"Oh well we met in Sokovia. We were protesting Stark together at a rally. Your brother flirted with me first and I never let him live that down especially when I married you and he was my best man." I smile at the memory. "Anyways, we were approached by Hydra and experimented on. They had the mind stone and the power stone. You and Pietro were exposed to the mind stone and I was too, but nothing happened unlike you two so they put me in a room with the power stone. It decided my chest was it's forever home. I ended up breaking us out from the Hydra base with the help of the Avengers who had caught word of the base. The three of us joined the Avengers and the rest is history." I tell her.
"So no Ultron? Sokovia didn't fly in the air? What about the Sokovia accords?" She throws question after question.
"No idea what you're talking about love. We carried on doing small missions, taking down hydra and radicals, but the three of us spent a long time training before they let us out doing field work." I tell her.
"Three? Is...is Pietro..?" Her voice breaks.
"Alive? Yeah of course." She falls to her knees and starts sobbing.
"Mommy?" Billy is at the middle of the stairs and the look in Wanda's eyes.
"Yeah baby it's Mommy." Wanda opened her arms and the little speedster found his way into her arms." Her eyes spilling over tears.
"Mama said you weren't coming back." Billy whispered.
"Mama didn't think I was, but Mommy always finds a way back to her boys." Wanda pulls back and looks up at me. "I'm staying...how could I say no when this is just about the most perfect version I could ask for?" I smile and start crying again as Tommy joins us before I can even blink. "Our little quick silver." Wanda smiles hugging the boys, her boys.
Tears of relief blur my vision as I watch Wanda embrace our boys, her boys, with a tenderness that speaks volumes. Billy and Tommy cling to her, their small arms wrapping around her tightly as if afraid she'll disappear again if they let go. And in that moment, I realize that this is where she belongs, with us, her family.
I join them on the floor, wrapping my arms around them all, unable to contain the overwhelming flood of emotions that threatens to consume me. "Welcome home, Wanda," I whisper, my voice choked with tears.
She looks up at me, her eyes shining with gratitude and love. "Thank you," she says softly, her voice trembling with emotion. "For everything."
Together, we sit in the warmth of our embrace, a makeshift family forged from the ashes of our shared past. And as the night stretches on, I can't help but feel a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness, a belief that no matter what trials may come, as long as we have each other, we can weather any storm.
========================
The days blurred together in a haze of longing and uncertainty, each moment tinged with the ache of what could have been. Wanda's presence in our home was both a blessing and a curse, a constant reminder of the love I had lost and the impossibility of reclaiming what was once mine.
I watched her interact with the boys, her smile forced but genuine, her laughter a melody that echoed through the halls. And yet, beneath the surface, I could sense the weight of her own grief, the burden of a past that refused to let her go.
I tried to be strong, to be there for her and the boys, but every smile felt like a lie, every laugh a hollow echo of the joy we once shared. And in the darkness of the night, when sleep eluded me and the silence pressed in like a vice, I found myself haunted by memories of another Wanda, a version of her that existed only in my dreams.
She was so close, yet so far away, a phantom presence that taunted me with what could have been. I longed to reach out to her, to hold her close and whisper words of love and comfort. But she was gone, lost to me in a reality that no longer existed.
And so I forced myself out of bed each morning, steeling myself against the pain that threatened to consume me. I buried myself in the routines of daily life, seeking solace in the mundane tasks that kept me tethered to reality.
But no matter how hard I tried to push her memory away, she lingered in the shadows of my mind, a ghostly specter that refused to be forgotten. And as the days turned into weeks, I began to wonder if I would ever find peace, if I would ever be able to let go of the love that still bound me to her, even across the vast expanse of the multiverse.
My Wanda and I had always had a policy of no mind reading since we could both do it, but this Wanda pokes at my thoughts constantly. Reminds me to smile through telepathy. One morning after a really good dream with another Wanda I can't get myself out of bed. Everything is too much. I know I had told her I'd be fine, but I'm not.
"Come on Y/N. Time to get up." I turn away from her, curling up into a ball further. "Y/N? What's wrong?" She asks.
"Nothing just tired. Just tell the boys I don't feel good. I need a Mama's day. So they can have a Mommy day. Take them out, get them ice cream. Do whatever you want." I grumble.
"Okay..." I close my eyes, letting myself drift back off just needed to see her again.
I don't know how much time has past when I'm being woken up, "Detka...come on wake up." My eyes blink into focus as I look at Wanda sitting above me and smile, forgetting my reality for a moment before my smile drops.
"What?" I ask.
"I dropped the boys off with their uncle for the weekend." I sit up straight,
"You did what!?" I screech.
"I left them with Pietro for the weekend. He was more than happy to have a boys weekend. Something about taking them to the lake?" Wanda mentions.
"He takes them every summer, usually it's a family thing and we all go." I tell Wanda.
"Well I figured you needed a Mommy and me weekend. I want to take you out. I want to get to know you. I already know my boys, but you. You're different, new, you aren't like Vision. You're human." She cups my cheek, smiling and I know it's a genuine smile. "I'm sure you've been feeling neglected and I wanted to try and do this sooner, but the boys were too excited to have me back." She says as I lean into her touch, Gods how I missed her touch. Though her fingers were no longer black her nails seemed to permanently stay black which made me laugh as I compared it to her emo phase which apparently this Wanda had one too.
"Thank you," I whisper, my voice catching in my throat. "For understanding."
She smiles, a warmth in her eyes that belies the weight of her own pain. "We're in this together. You don't have to carry the burden alone."
With her words echoing in my mind, I find the strength to push myself out of bed, to face the day with renewed determination. Wanda's offer of a Mommy and me weekend is a lifeline, a chance to rediscover myself amidst the chaos of grief and longing.
As we spend the day together, exploring the city and sharing stories of our pasts, I feel a sense of peace settle over me, a reassurance that maybe, just maybe, there's still hope for a future filled with love and laughter.
And as the sun sets on our day together, I realize that while Wanda may not be my Wanda, she's still a beacon of light in the darkness, a reminder that even in our darkest moments, there's always someone willing to stand by our side, to offer a hand to hold and a shoulder to lean on.
With her by my side, I know that no matter what the future may hold, I'll never have to face it alone. And as we head home, the weight of grief feels a little lighter, the shadows a little less daunting, as we embrace the possibility of a new beginning, together.
When we got back home, I pulled her to the couch, "Time to watch sitcoms." I tell her and her face lights up.
"Dick Van Dyke?" She asks.
"No Detka. I want to show you my favorite this time. It's a more modern one. It's an animated sitcom though is that okay?" I ask, realizing this Wanda maybe never experienced animated and only enjoyed live action ones.
"Of course dorogoya." Her accent popping out sent a wave through me that landed between my legs.
"O-okay good." I say and get 'Bob's Burgers' playing. As the show starts I settle in with a slight distance between us, but she pulls me in against her side.
"Is this okay dorogoya?" She asks looking down at me.
"Y-yeah...of course." I move slight, readjusting to get comfortable as we fit together like two missing puzzle pieces and I let out a sigh of relief, that feels like so much weight is taken off my shoulders.
As the episodes of "Bob's Burgers" played on, I found myself relaxing into Wanda's embrace, the tension that had been coiled tight within me slowly unraveling with each passing moment. Her warmth seeped into my bones, a comforting presence that chased away the lingering shadows of doubt and fear.
With her by my side, the laughter that bubbled up from the screen felt genuine, a reflection of the newfound camaraderie we shared. And as I stole glances at her profile, illuminated by the soft glow of the television, I couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the moment, the simplicity of just being together.
Her laughter mingled with mine, the sound music to my ears, a symphony of joy that filled the room with warmth and light. And as the credits rolled on the final episode, I turned to her, a smile playing at the corners of my lips.
"Thank you," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "For today. For everything."
She returned my smile, her eyes shimmering with affection. "Anytime. I'm here for you, always."
I sat there staring at her, getting lost in her eyes so much that I don't even realize that she's leaning in until she's inches from my lips, she stops and I can feel her breath on me, my own hitching,
"Is this okay dorogoya?" She whispers in a husk against my lips.
"Y-yes." I manage out as she kisses me softly at first, testing the waters, but soon enough she's kissing hungrily, like she's starving for my taste now that's she's had a nibble. My fingers find their way into her hair, getting tangled in her auburn locks. One of her hands is on the back of my neck and the other is on my hip, gripping tightly, I can feel her nails digging in.
The world falls away as our lips meet in a fiery embrace, a collision of passion and longing that ignites every nerve ending in my body. Her kiss is intoxicating, a whirlwind of desire and need that sweeps me away in a tide of sensation.
I lose myself in the taste of her, the feel of her lips moving against mine with a hunger that mirrors my own. Our breath mingles in the space between us, hot and heavy with unspoken desire, as the intensity of our embrace grows with each passing moment.
Her hands are everywhere at once, trailing fire along my skin as she pulls me closer, her touch igniting a wildfire of sensation within me. I cling to her desperately, losing myself in the dizzying whirl of pleasure that consumes us both.
Time loses all meaning as we surrender to the passion that binds us together, lost in a world of our own making where nothing else matters but the fiery connection that burns between us.
And as we finally break apart, breathless and trembling, I find myself drowning in the depths of her gaze, a silent promise of more to come lingering in the air between us.
In that moment, I know that this is just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, passion, and endless possibility. And as we cling to each other in the aftermath of our shared passion, I can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected twist of fate that brought us together.
User
"Bed. Now." Her eyes lit up red for a moment. My Wanda had never been dominate, but this Wanda before me exuded dominance. I didn't waste any time getting up the stairs with her hot on my tail as we crashed into the bedroom, stumbling to the bed in a heat of kisses as she took the leading role.
The air crackled with electricity as we stumbled into the bedroom, our lips locked in a frenzy of passion and desire. Wanda's presence was intoxicating, her aura radiating power and dominance in a way I had never experienced before. And as she took the lead, pushing me onto the bed with a hunger that sent shivers down my spine, I felt myself surrendering to the raw intensity of the moment.
Her kisses were demanding, igniting a fire within me that burned hotter with each passing second. I moaned against her lips, my fingers tangling in her hair as I lost myself in the heat of the moment. Her touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body as she explored every inch of my skin with a hunger that left me breathless.
With each caress, each whispered word of desire, I felt myself falling deeper under her spell, my body responding eagerly to her every touch. And as she claimed me as her own, I surrendered to the overwhelming tide of sensation, losing myself in the ecstasy of our shared passion.
In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of pleasure and desire where nothing else mattered but the intoxicating connection that bound us together. And as we moved as one, bodies entwined in a symphony of passion, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, lust, and endless possibility.
The sensation of relinquishing control, of surrendering completely to someone else's will, was both exhilarating and liberating. As I basked in the warmth of Wanda's dominance, I found myself embracing a side of myself that I had long suppressed, a side that craved the thrill of submission and surrender.
With each touch, each whispered command, I felt myself sinking deeper into the abyss of pleasure, my mind consumed by a haze of ecstasy that left me breathless and yearning for more. And as Wanda took the lead, guiding me with a firm yet gentle hand, I found myself surrendering to the overwhelming tide of sensation, losing myself in the intoxicating dance of pleasure and desire.
In her arms, I felt safe, cherished, and utterly alive, my body responding eagerly to her every touch and caress. And as we moved together in a symphony of passion and desire, I embraced the freedom that came with letting go, allowing myself to be swept away by the currents of our shared passion.
For in that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful surrender where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our connection. And as we surrendered to the ecstasy of our shared desire, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with exploration, discovery, and boundless pleasure.
"Ah...Wands..." A smack hit my thigh making me jolt and yelp.
"That's not my name Detka." I feel my stomach flip. I call her this all the time. I have for years now, but never in this setting. Another smack and then her teeth find my skin, biting and sucking harshly, marking me.
"Mommy!" I can feel the smirk against my thigh.
"Good girl. Go on. Show me how needy you are baby girl." Her fingers find themselves between my folds as I move my hips against them.
The sensation of her touch sent shivers of pleasure coursing through me, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment. I arched my back, pressing against her fingers as they explored the depths of my desire, teasing and tantalizing with a skill that left me trembling with need.
"Please," I whimpered, the word spilling from my lips in a desperate plea for more. Her touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body as she pushed me to the brink of ecstasy.
With each caress, each stroke, I felt myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the intensity of our shared passion. And as she whispered words of encouragement, urging me to let go and surrender to the pleasure that awaited, I felt myself surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation.
In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our connection. And as I succumbed to the ecstasy of our shared desire, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with passion, intensity, and boundless pleasure.
The sensation of Wanda's magic enveloping my wrists sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through me, a tangible reminder of her power and dominance. I tested the restraints, feeling the firm hold of her magic as it kept me securely in place, my heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and arousal.
"Safe word. Green, yellow, red. Green is keep going, yellow slow down, red is stop." Wanda husked.
"Green, yellow, red," I echoed, committing the safe words to memory as a reassurance of our mutual trust and consent. With each breath, each whispered command, I felt myself sinking deeper into the heady haze of pleasure, surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation.
As Wanda continued to explore my body with a skillful touch that left me trembling with need, I surrendered myself to the ecstasy of our shared desire, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive.
And as the intensity of our passion grew with each passing moment, I found myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of our connection. In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire.
I don't think there is a place she hasn't marked on me in some way and after hours of edging until I couldn't form sentences she finally let me release. A string of moans ripping through me as the most intense waves roll over me as I drown in them, covered in sweat and her marks.
As the waves of pleasure washed over me, leaving me trembling and spent, I basked in the afterglow of our shared passion, my body still tingling with the echoes of our ecstasy. But just when I thought the intensity had peaked, I felt something pressing against my entrance, a sensation that sent a jolt of anticipation coursing through me.
I gasped, my body instinctively tensing as Wanda's touch ignited a new wave of desire within me. Her fingers teased and tantalized, exploring the depths of my desire with a skill that left me breathless and eager for more.
With each gentle thrust, I felt myself opening up to her, surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation. The pleasure was exquisite, a symphony of ecstasy that echoed through every fiber of my being as I lost myself in the blissful abandon of our shared desire.
And as Wanda continued to guide me with a firm yet gentle hand, I surrendered myself to the pleasure of our connection, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive. In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire.
Wanda soon enough needed more and so did I, "Faster...ha-ah...harder..." My breath hot against her, panting like a dog and that gave her the perfect opportunity to place her fingers in my mouth, gaging me with them, but I loved every second as I sucked on them, moaning against them as I tasted myself on them from earlier.
The sensation of Wanda's fingers in my mouth sent a thrill of arousal coursing through me, a heady mixture of pleasure and desire that left me panting and eager for more. With each thrust, each gasp of pleasure, I eagerly sucked on her fingers, tasting myself on them from earlier.
The taste was intoxicating, a symphony of desire that heightened the intensity of our connection as we moved together in perfect harmony. And as Wanda responded to my pleas with a fervor that mirrored my own, I surrendered myself to the pleasure of our shared desire, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive.
With each thrust, I felt myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of our passion. And as we reached the peak of ecstasy together, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey, a journey filled with passion, intensity, and boundless pleasure.
In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire. And as we surrendered ourselves to the ecstasy of our connection, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, lust, and endless possibility.
As I slowly regained my senses, the cool towel on the back of my neck and Wanda's comforting presence helped anchor me in reality. Her magic gently caressed my mind, offering reassurance and care as I took in the aftermath of our intense encounter.
"Easy, Detka. You're okay," she murmured, and I found solace in the warmth of her embrace. I took the offered water bottle, sipping slowly as she continued to tend to my well-being. The realization that I had passed out from pleasure left me both surprised and amused.
"Never happened before," I admitted with a chuckle. "The other Wanda was more of a sub, so I was usually the one in control. Not that I didn't enjoy it, but being on the receiving end is a whole different experience."
Wanda's magic fetched a baggy shirt, and as I recognized it, a wave of nostalgia washed over me. It was a shirt from a concert we attended when we were sixteen, a tangible link to our shared past.
"It's good to know not everything is different," I remarked, smiling as she kissed my temple.
In the warmth of our makeshift cocoon, surrounded by blankets and pillows, Wanda's magic weaving a protective barrier around us, we continued to watch 'Bob's Burgers.' However, my focus was no longer on the show; instead, I found myself captivated by the woman holding me close.
A sudden wave of fear and doubt crashed over me as I wondered if this intimate encounter was just a one-time gesture to alleviate my grief. The fear of being tossed aside after a momentary respite haunted my thoughts, threatening to overshadow the joy we had just shared.
Wanda, sensing my internal struggle, gently addressed my concerns. "Hey, woah, Detka. Those thoughts of yours are the farthest thing from the truth. Do not listen to them. I would never do that to my soulmate," she reassured me, her forehead finding mine in a tender gesture of connection.
"I love you, Y/N," she confessed, her words washing away my fears and opening the floodgates to a cascade of happy tears. "I love you, Wands! I didn't think I'd ever get to hear you say those words to me again," I admitted, clinging to her shirt as I sobbed into her.
Wanda's promises echoed in my heart, a vow to cherish and reaffirm our love every day. She kissed away my tears, each tender touch a testament to the depth of her commitment. "I promise I'm going to say it every chance I get. I'm never going to stop. I'm going to remind you every day how beautiful you are and how much I love you, and I promise I'm never going to leave. No missions. Nothing like that. I'll always be by your side," she declared, her own tears mingling with mine.
In that moment, as we drowned in each other's love, I knew that this second chance at happiness was a gift we would both cherish. And as Wanda whispered, "I love you," over and over, I felt the weight of my grief lifting, replaced by the warmth of a love that transcended time and space.
========
In the midst of my peaceful dream, I found myself enveloped in a sense of tranquility unlike any I had experienced in well over a year. Waking up with a smile on my face I turn my head, looking over I gazed upon the sleeping form of Wanda, her features softened by the gentle embrace of slumber, I felt a rush of overwhelming love and affection welling up within me.
With a playful smile tugging at the corners of my lips, I leaned in closer, pressing gentle kisses along the curve of her neck. Each tender touch elicited a soft moan from her lips, a melody of pleasure that echoed through the stillness of the night.
Lost in the intoxicating embrace of our shared intimacy, I continued to shower her with affection, reveling in the warmth of her presence and the depth of our connection. And as I whispered her name, a soft murmur of adoration, I knew that this moment, this fleeting glimpse of happiness, was a treasure to be cherished for all eternity.
As Wanda began to stir awake, her voice still heavy with sleep, I couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for her. Her words, though tinged with a hint of warning, only served to deepen the bond between us.
"You're playing a dangerous game, kotenok," she murmured, her voice laced with sleepiness.
"Shchenok," I corrected gently, a small smile playing on my lips.
Her eyes snapped open at the correction, surprise evident in her expression. "When did you learn that?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.
I shrugged, the memories of our shared past flooding back to me. "I was with her for like 20 years of our lives. I learned most Russian. Also Natasha, she..." My voice trailed off as Wanda's expression shifted, a wave of sadness washing over her.
"Oh my god, I forgot about Natasha. Is... is she alive here?" she asked, tears welling up in her eyes.
I nodded solemnly, feeling a pang of empathy for the pain she must be feeling. Crawling into her lap, I wrapped my arms around her, offering what comfort I could. "You really lost a lot there, dorogoya," I whispered, my voice soft with compassion. "But don't worry, everyone here is safe. We've apparently had it relatively easy here, it seems."
I pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, my heart overflowing with love and gratitude for this woman who had endured so much. "Now you have your loved ones back. You aren't alone anymore, and you won't ever be again. I promise."
==============
As the weekend unfolded, Wanda and I remained entwined in each other's arms, our connection deepening with each passing moment. When the boys returned home with their uncle Pietro, the atmosphere was filled with warmth and affection, a tangible sense of family that enveloped us all.
Pietro's hug was tight, filled with an unspoken understanding that transcended words. In his whispered question, "Did you guys finally connect?" I detected a mixture of curiosity and genuine concern.
With a small nod and a soft "Mmhmm," I confirmed what he already knew. This Wanda wasn't his real sister, just as she wasn't the Wanda I had known and loved for decades. But she was here, she was special, and in her embrace, I found a sense of solace and belonging that I had thought lost forever.
==============
As the following Friday arrived, Wanda and I made the decision to gather our friends and family together to share the details of our new lives. It was a momentous occasion, filled with a mix of anticipation and apprehension as we prepared to unveil the truth about our extraordinary circumstances.
Gathering our loved ones in a familiar setting, we began to recount the events that had led us to this moment, explaining the complexities of our intertwined destinies and the newfound connections we had forged. With each word, we sought to convey the depth of our emotions, the challenges we had overcome, and the hope that now burned bright within our hearts.
As our gathering unfolded, the emotions in the room were palpable, each hug and embrace a testament to the depth of our shared experiences and the bonds that bound us together.
Wanda's first instinct was to embrace Natasha tightly, their bodies trembling with sobs as they clung to each other. For both of them, it was a moment of overwhelming relief and joy, the realization that they had been given a second chance to be reunited with someone they had feared lost forever.
Next was Clint, the stalwart friend and ally who had saved Wanda countless times in her timeline, offering comfort and support when she needed it most. As they embraced, the weight of their shared history hung heavy in the air, a reminder of the trials they had faced and the strength they had found in each other's presence.
In that moment, surrounded by friends and family who had become like kin, Wanda and I felt a profound sense of gratitude for the bonds that had been forged through adversity. And as we shared stories and memories, laughter mingling with tears, we knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, drawing strength from the love and support that surrounded us.
As our friends and family listened intently, their expressions shifting from surprise to understanding, we felt a sense of relief wash over us. To have our loved ones by our side, supporting us through this journey, was a gift beyond measure.
And as we concluded our explanation, surrounded by the warmth and love of those closest to us, we knew that no matter what the future held, we would face it together, united in our shared bond and unwavering commitment to one another.
As the night wore on and the festivities continued, Stephen pulled me aside, his expression grave with concern. "You know what she's done in her universe, right?" he asked, his voice tinged with urgency.
I bristled at his question, feeling a surge of defensiveness rise within me. "Do not start this, Strange," I warned, jabbing a finger in his direction. "If I had gone through what she had, this universe wouldn't even exist. What she did, in my eyes, is child's play compared to the horrors she endured."
My words carried a weight of conviction, a steadfast belief in Wanda's resilience and the sacrifices she had made to protect those she loved. And as I met Stephen's gaze, I saw a flicker of understanding in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the depth of Wanda's strength and the magnitude of her courage.
"She threw a tantrum essentially. Took over a town for a bit and then went on a killing spree to get here. I saw it through her eyes. I know if it had been me, you'd be lucky if America had still been standing," I asserted, a hint of steel in my voice as I tapped the power stone embedded in my chest.
The reminder of the immense power at my disposal served as both a warning and a declaration. Wanda's actions in her universe were a testament to the depths of her grief and the consequences of unchecked power. In contrast, I recognized the responsibility that came with wielding such force, a responsibility I vowed to use wisely to protect those I loved.
As the weight of our conversation lingered, Stephen nodded in acknowledgment, a silent understanding passing between us. The night continued, but the specter of the past and the potential for the future hung in the air, a reminder that even in moments of celebration, the shadows of our pasts were never truly far behind.
"I don't think you understand, my strength isn't superhuman, it's otherworldly. The precision it requires to ensure I don't break everything around me at any given moment is a delicate balance. With one punch, I wouldn't just put a crater in the earth, I'd break it in half," I emphasized, underscoring the magnitude of the power I possessed.
The distinction between superhuman strength and the cosmic force I wielded was crucial to grasp. While others might possess extraordinary abilities, mine was on a different scale altogether, capable of reshaping the very fabric of reality itself. It was a responsibility that weighed heavily on me, requiring a level of control and restraint beyond what most could comprehend.
As I spoke, I could sense the gravity of my words sinking in, the realization dawning on Stephen of the immense power at my command. It was a sobering reminder of the delicate balance between strength and responsibility, a balance that I vowed to uphold no matter the cost.
"I'm sorry, Y/N, I just wanted to remind you-" Stephen began, but I swiftly cut him off, my tone firm yet understanding. "Don't, Stephen. I know you're just trying to help. I don't need the reminder though," I assured him, acknowledging his concern while asserting my own understanding of the situation.
With a nod of acceptance, Stephen backed off, respecting my boundaries and allowing me to return to the comforting embrace of Wanda, who had been engaged in conversation with Natasha and Clint. As I settled back into her arms, the warmth of her presence enveloped me, a reassuring reminder of the love and support that surrounded me.
In that moment, surrounded by friends and family, I felt a sense of peace wash over me, a quiet reassurance that no matter the challenges we faced, we would face them together, united in our shared bonds and unwavering commitment to one another.
As Wanda continued her conversation with Natasha and Clint, her fingers traced delicate patterns on my hip, their touch a gentle caress that spoke volumes of the journey she had undertaken. Once stained with blood, those same hands now exuded a tenderness and compassion that belied the darkness of the past.
Feeling the soothing rhythm of her touch, I couldn't help but marvel at the transformation Wanda had undergone, the evolution from a place of pain and turmoil to one of healing and redemption. It was a testament to her resilience and strength, a reminder that even in the face of adversity, it was possible to find light amidst the shadows.
In that moment, as her touch danced across my skin, I felt a profound sense of gratitude for the woman before me, for the love and forgiveness she had extended, and for the hope that now blossomed within our hearts. And as our conversation continued, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, bound by the unbreakable bond of love and understanding that had brought us to this moment.
As the room suddenly filled with the energetic presence of our children, along with Clint's youngest and Kate close behind, my boys bounded into mine and Wanda's arms with cries for help. "Moms! Save us from the monster!" they pleaded, their laughter filling the air.
I chuckled as I gathered them close, feeling their warmth and energy envelop me in a comforting embrace. Glancing over, I caught sight of Kate playfully tickling Nathaniel, the mischievous grin on her face confirming my suspicions.
With a smile, I joined Wanda in rescuing our boys from the clutches of the imaginary monster, enveloping them in hugs and laughter as we reveled in the joy of family and friendship. In that moment, surrounded by the ones we loved most, I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the blessings that filled our lives, each smile and laugh a reminder of the happiness that awaited us in the days to come.
As the boys began to drift off to sleep in my arms, I couldn't help but smile at the sight. "I think it's time to go, my love," I murmured to Wanda, gesturing towards our sleeping sons. Despite their ten years, I scooped them up effortlessly, their weight feeling light in my arms.
A momentary look of surprise flickered across Wanda's face, her gaze lingering on me as she seemed to momentarily forget about my strength. At just 4'11, I was indeed petite for someone with such power, a fact that often caught others off guard.
With a soft chuckle, I gently adjusted the boys in my arms, their peaceful expressions a testament to the love and security they felt in our embrace. As we prepared to leave, I felt a surge of gratitude for the family we had become, bound together by love and the unbreakable bond of kinship. With Wanda by my side, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our shared love and determination to protect those we held dear.
As I glanced over at Wanda, watching the tender expression on her face as she looked upon our sleeping sons, my heart swelled with love and gratitude. The depth of emotion reflected in her eyes filled me with a sense of warmth and contentment, knowing that our family was complete and our bond unbreakable.
In that moment, as we stood together, surrounded by the quiet stillness of the night, I felt a profound sense of peace wash over me. The love that radiated between us and enveloped our children was a testament to the strength of our connection, a bond forged in the fires of adversity and tempered by the trials we had faced together.
As we prepared to depart, I reached out to take Wanda's hand, intertwining our fingers in a silent gesture of unity and love. With a shared smile, we turned and made our way home, our hearts full and our spirits lifted by the knowledge that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, as a family.
===========
Wanda and I are on the couch when she asks, "Do you have photo albums of the boys?" I look at her, peeling my eyes from the TV as I pause it.
"Of course." I get up grabbing several albums of almost everything of their lives. "After we left the Avengers I took solace in capturing moments so we have a lot." I tell her as she starts through her pregnancy photos one of every month. Then the hospital photos of her giving birth. The look of pure happiness and bliss on both our faces as we held the boys. Both of us having skin to skin contact with them. As Wanda goes through the albums she starts crying.
"I missed out on so much because of my magic..." she whispered solemnly. "They went from babies, to 5, to 10 all because of words I said...Y/N...I missed everything." Knowing that Wanda had used her magic to create our boys in her universe and not anything like how we had here made her incredibly sad. I hate seeing her like this.
"How about I show you. Their first words, their first steps, everything." With a gentle touch, I leaned in closer to her, resting my forehead against hers as I offered her a silent gesture of comfort and solidarity. Feeling her fingers against my temples, I closed my eyes and allowed the memories to flow, every precious moment from the joyous announcement of her pregnancy to the bittersweet final days we shared together playing out before her.
As the memories unfolded like a vivid tapestry, I watched as Wanda's tears began to subside, replaced by a sense of wonder and awe. Through the magic of our shared recollections, she was able to witness the milestones she had missed, the laughter and love that had filled our home in her absence.
In that moment, as we shared in the memories of our past, I felt a renewed sense of hope blossom within me. Though Wanda may have missed out on so much, I was determined to make every moment from this point forward count, to cherish the time we had together and to create new memories that would fill the void left by the past.
With a gentle smile, I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close as we basked in the warmth of our shared love. And as the echoes of our memories faded into the night, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our unwavering commitment to one another and to our family.
As I looked into Wanda's eyes, feeling the weight of her sadness and longing, I knew that I had to do everything in my power to ease her pain and make up for the lost time. With a gentle touch, I cupped her cheek in my hand, my thumb brushing away the tears that lingered there.
"Everything with them feels too quick and also a lifetime," I whispered softly, my heart swelling with love and determination. "But now that you're here with us, you'll get to experience it all with me. Together."
In that moment, as we shared in our shared resolve to embrace the present and forge ahead as a family, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. No matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our love and commitment to one another.
With a tender smile, I leaned in to press a gentle kiss against Wanda's forehead, silently promising to cherish every moment we shared and to make up for the lost time in any way I could. Together, we would build a future filled with love, laughter, and endless memories, united in our bond as a family.
Once we put the albums away, shut the TV off for the night we headed upstairs. Stopping to look in at the boys sleeping peacefully before heading to our own room, getting ourselves ready for bed. As I climb in, stretching out, Wanda climbs on top of me. I bite my bottom lip, looking up at her. I can see the look she has. I wrap my arms around her neck, gently trying to pull her down. She doesn't budge.
"Did you want something, shchenok?" Between the look in her eyes, the sound of her voice, and her in just a tank top of sleep shorts I'm weak to her completely under her not just physically.
"Want you. Need you." I tell her trying again to pull and when she still doesn't budge. I pout and whine. "Wands...please.."
As Wanda's hands worked their magic, binding mine above my head with a delicate yet firm touch, I felt a rush of excitement and anticipation coursing through me. With each tug of her magic, I was rendered powerless, completely at her mercy as she explored my body with a hunger that ignited a fire within me.
"Behave and we'll see where it goes," she husked, her words sending shivers down my spine as she pushed up my shirt, her lips finding purchase on my chest with an intensity that left me breathless. The sensation of her teeth grazing my skin, her tongue tracing patterns across my flesh, sent waves of pleasure radiating through me, making me squirm and writhe beneath her touch.
As I felt myself slipping deeper into subspace, surrendering to the heady mix of pleasure and vulnerability, I couldn't help but lose myself in the moment, giving in completely to the sensations that engulfed me. With each kiss, each caress, I felt myself unraveling, consumed by the overwhelming desire that burned between us.
In that moment, as I surrendered myself to Wanda's tender ministrations, I felt a profound sense of connection and intimacy that transcended the physical realm. With her by my side, I knew that I was safe, cherished, and loved beyond measure, and as I surrendered to the ecstasy of the moment, I knew that our bond would only grow stronger with each passing day.
Wanda plays with me and teases me for hours and I can't even remember how many times she's pushed me over the edge of ecstasy. As she brought me to another one as she slammed into me with a magic strap-on she'd conjured up, my mind already drowning in subspace, barely able to form words, but one slips out and then a few more,
"Mommy...gonna...ah-ha...ah..." After my words she sped up leaning down to whisper in my ear,
"That's right cum for Mommy like a good girl. Mommy's gonna cum with you. Gonna fill you up and breed you baby girl." As she whispered those final words in my ear, her voice a husky growl of lust and desire, I felt myself shattering into a million pieces, my entire being consumed by the ecstasy of release. With a cry of pure ecstasy, I let myself fall over the edge, my body trembling with the force of my climax as I surrendered myself entirely to the pleasure that engulfed me. Feeling her fill me up completely made my eyes roll back and the only word I could comprehend was, “Mommy.”
In that moment, as I basked in the afterglow of our shared ecstasy, I knew that I was exactly where I belonged, wrapped in the arms of the woman I loved more than anything in the world.
Taglist: @dorabledewdroop
#ley writes#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda x reader#wanda maximoff smut#wanda x you#wanda x y/n#wanda maxmoff x y/n#wanda maximommy#wanda maximoff x fem!reader#wanda maximoff x female reader#the scarlet witch x fem!reader#the scarlet witch#scarlet witch x you#scarlet witch x reader#scarlet witch
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May we continue to love forever
bf!haechan
fluff, mentions of murder jokes
word count : 1,341
In moments like these where you let yourself delve into your thoughts. Staring out the window as the train began to start up again, slowly chugging down the rail road, you found yourself thinking of how you became so lucky to meet the guy that sat right next to you.
It was cliche, really. He ran into you when talking to his friends and proceeded to get lost in your eyes as he apologised. You two talked for hours after that first meeting, he left his friends just so he could go and get to know the girl he fell for.
His soft brown hair soon was dyed black and you fell for him all over again - even when you two had been dating for months at this point.
It was times when you least expected it, that you would fall in love with him all over again.
When the wind would be blowing your hair back, messing it up in the process but he would just stare loving at you and brush the hair behind your hair so it didn’t bother you so much.
You always thought about that moment. The way your heart fluttered and you felt your face heat up, it always brought a small smile to your face.
You felt a tap on your thigh, “Babe, this is our stop.” You looked towards Haechan and quickly stood up, following after him as he walks off the train.
“What would you do without me.” He spoke in a teasing manner, passing you your bag - which you had forgotten about completely.
“I would be perfectly fine without you.” It wasn’t a lie. It just so happened that whenever you were with him, you became so relaxed that you forgot things that you wouldn’t normally forget. You knew he would be there for you to pick up on the things you forgot.
“So why did you want to come here?” He asked, stuffing his hands into his puffer jackets pockets.
“It’s a surprise.” You smile at the boy and begin to walk in front of him to lead the way. He followed behind you, a love struck smile plastered onto his face despite the icy winds that had the both of you shivering even in the warmest jackets you had.
“Did we have to come down near the ocean on a day like this? I’m going to freeze to death.” He complains after a few minutes of walking in peacefully silence. It was a quiet area, but with the weather it was even more quiet. People chose to stay inside the warmth on days like this. Not the two of you though.
You were sure that Haechan would love to go back home now, but you were determined to show him the surprise. It would be worth it once you get there
“Don’t start complaining now, Hyuck, we will get there soon.”
“Gosh, why is there no people around-“ he paused and you heard his teeth chattering for a moment before he continued. “You’re taking me to a murder spot aren’t you? Is this why you were so eager? Is my death the surprise.”
You stopped walking and began to laugh at the boy. He stopped next to you, a lazy grin across his face.
“No Haechan, I don’t want to murder you, at least not here.”
“Why? I think this would be a lovely place to die.” You sigh at his words, beginning to walk again.
“Let’s not talk about such matters when I’m quite literally taking you to a place of pure happiness.”
“is it my grave-“
“Haechan!” You shouted, looking at him only to see him avoiding your gaze and laughing to himself.
The two of you arrive at a local restaurant. As you stepped inside, memories seemed to come back to Haechan. His eyes widened and he grabbed ahold of your jacket.
“No way… you found this place.”
“I didn’t. Mark said he had been here and I wanted to surprise you.”
Haechan stared in awe as he looked around the same restaurant that he had only seen in movies and dramas. The same restaurant that he for some reason was never able to find the address off.
As the two of you followed a waiter to a table, you felt Haechan grabbing ahold of your hand. He interlocked your fingers for a brief second, giving your hand a squeeze before letting go when the waiter looked back to speak to you.
The both of you sat down and looked at the menu. it was a quiet family owned restaurant that left Haechan in awe. He took in the beautiful layout and the romantic lighting the place had. Plus the heating in here made it a perfect moment for him.
He took off his jacket and looked towards you while you read the names of the dishes that you were interested in getting. You weren’t doing anything special in that moment, simply sitting there and reading a menu, and yet Haechan fell in love with you all over again.
He lifted his phone up, aiming the camera at you and quickly snapping a picture. The clicking sound caught your attention and you look up from the menu to see the boy giggling to himself as he looked at his phone.
“Did you really take a picture of me?” You say, placing the menu down on the table, unable to hide the smile slowly growing on your face.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He says, putting his hands up. “I just think you look very pretty right now.”
You blushed and quickly looked away from his eyes, picking the menu back up and telling him to pick a dish. He chuckles at you but never the less listens to what you said.
The both of you eat your meals rather quietly, simply enjoying the atmosphere and the gentle music that played in the background. The cloudy blue sky became darker as the night rolled in and the sun set.
“I want to stay here tonight.” Haechan says, sinking back into his chair. He looks over at you, staring into your eyes that were growing tired.
“I should book us a hotel room.” He says, picking up his phone.
You reach over the table and push his phone down a bit. “We don’t have any extra clothes on us.”
Haechan shrugs his shoulders. “We can always buy some tomorrow, or tonight quickly before stores start to close.”
You sigh and say, “You really don’t want to go back home?”
He shakes his head, reaching across the table to grab a hold of your hands. “I want to stay with you all night in a place as beautiful as this town.”
You chuckle at his words, “You’ve only really seen this store, what do you mean this town.”
“I’m sure the town is as beautiful as you are.” You want to laugh at his over the top flirting but you decide to delve into it. He loved complimenting you, even if it was in the more embarrassing way possible.
“and if it’s ugly?” You say, raising an eyebrow expectantly at him.
“then it’s because you’re too beautiful that everything else becomes ugly.”
You roll your eyes and stand up, ready to go pay for the meal. He leaps from the chair and almost trips you as he rushes past you to pay for it.
“You paid for the train tickets, I’ll pay for the meal and the hotel room.”
you couldn’t deny the offer and decided to let him pay for the meal.
As the two of you put your jackets on and stepped outside into the freezing cold air, you hear Haechan say in a light manner,
“You know, you should’ve lied when you said Mark found this place. It’s less romantic knowing he found it.”
You scoff out a laugh and shove the boy. “Shut up and get a hotel room, it’s too cold out here.”
#nct dream#nct dream imagine#nct imagines#nct#nct dream imagines#nct scenarios#nct fluff#nct haechan#haechan imagines#haechan imagine#haechan
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𝟐 — 𝐃𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐲 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Hobie Brown / SpiderPunk x Fem! Reader
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.5k
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Use of Y/N, No physical description of reader other than mostly height comparison. Swearing, Mention of alcohol, drinking, vomiting, Fluff.
𝑁𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑔𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠
𝑀𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡
A/N: I honestly had to rethink this over and over again so many times even though I was like half way thru the damn chapter so that's why making this took me long, also the fact I have the attention span of a child. I was really not sure about this whole thing cuz it kinda felt too sudden but hopefully, it turned out fine? for me it did tbh but like. *blink* yk? Or maybe it's just because I'm not confident in my fucking writing skills and need validation for every damn step I take<3 But anyways, I made half of the notes for this chapter during math class and the teacher caught me so that too (Spoiler Alert: I got sent to the principal's office :3) but that's besides the point. Also if some of the characters were a little OOC, I'm very sorry- I tried my best to make them as accurate as possible (some inaccurate shit tends to get on my nerve, mostly if it's produced by me) annnnd I need to stop ranting💀. I don't take requests nor do I plan on doing so in the future. Happy reading! 😉
Chapter 2 >>> Chapter 3
Each Stroke of paint is smooth, filling the wall with a little more color than before. The bristles of the paint brush gently swipes over the wall. Music flowed into your ears and through, making you hum.
The atmosphere was calming, like nothing could ever—
“Whatcha listenin’ to?” A teasing voice appeared beside you making you jump and your shoulder tense up.
Right. You forgot he was still here. Pushing your headphones off, “a song.” You answered flatly, turning away from him, your back facing Hobie as you dipped your paint brush into the thick minty liquid that was within the metal bucket and slid the brush across the wall.
“Really? I'll have to check it out when I get home.”
You scoff at the sarcasm in his tone.
After yesterday, he helped you with a little cleaning. You thought he was probably going to dip and disappear from your life after that so when he returned the next day (today), it did surprise you a little. He's been just hanging around. You don't know why, he doesn't owe you anything. “Why are you helping me again?” You turned to him with a quirked eyebrow.
“Mate, you've asked me that like 4 times already.”
“And each time, I haven't gotten a proper answer.”
This time, he's the one to scoff. “Is it that bad to want to just help somebody?”
“You're dodging the question again.” You say in a sing-song voice.
He holds his hands up in surrender, “aight aight. I'm just tryna help out a friend of a friend, y'know? Plus. I ain't' hurtin’ anyone, right?”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what it means, love.”
You sighed, your arm falling to your side. Your other hand coming up to pinch the bridge of your nose, “okay. I'll admit, I'm being a little… douchey.” You say, biting your lip, “But I can't say that I don't appreciate your help, and company.”
“Little's an understatement.” Hobie quipped, snickering to himself which made you throw a side glance in his direction. An innocent smile spread across his face.
You rolled your eyes turning back to the wall to continue what you were doing. Hobie took it as a sign to pursue his side of the wall.
A small spot was left just at the top of the wall making you push yourself up on your tiptoes, trying to get to the empty white patch on top of the wall.
Hobie, who was distracted by his own work, took a glance at you when he heard a few groans of frustration. Seeing you so frustrated over such a small thing brought a small smirk to his face. He settled his brush down into the paint bucket and made his way to you, your head turning to him when you caught a glimpse of him in the corner of your eye extending his hand, beckoning for you to give him the brush you held.
You raised your eyebrow but gave in, settling the brush into his extended hand, your fingers grazing his palm before you quickly withdrew your hand to your side.
He stepped forward closer to you and the wall, making you step back away, giving him space as he took care of the last white spot on the wall.
“Thank you,” you gave him a small smile and a nod.
“No problem.” He returned the smile. You two stood there holding eye contact. His eyes were as pretty as they were in the poster. No. Prettier. You thought, why? You didn't know.
You quickly cleared your throat and looked away to look at your progress the two of you had made whilst he sunk the paint brush back into the depths of the mint paint after filling the small white spot with paint.
The two of you had already completed three walls, the last wall was just about half done. The only other thing left to paint was the closet, you'd get to that later.
“You wanna go get a drink?” Hobie suddenly asked, turning his head towards you, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his leather vest.
You rubbed a hand over your jaw, the thought of a break was very enticing right about now since you'd been busy for about a solid 4-5 hours. You answered after a second or two of silence. “Sure. I could use a little break.”
“Good cuz I know an awesome pub around here.”
“Lead the way.” You said extending your arm towards the door.
—
The two of you walked side by side, Hobie’s gaze fixed on the rock he kept kicking in front of him during your walk, yours lost in the sky that was split into hues of yellow and pink.
“So, I haven't really seen you around here before.” Hobie suddenly spoke up after his rock companion got left behind, a small pout formed on his face which disappeared as quickly as it appeared when it did but obviously he wasn't going back just to retrieve a rock.
“Just moved here about a few days ago, used to live in York with my parents.” You answered, crossing one of your arms behind your head.
“Hm.” He nodded before silence fell over the two of you again, seems neither of you knew what to say. Your eyes lingered on the sky, watching the purple mixing into the pink and orange.
This time, you decided to break the silence. “So, where are we going?” Your head turned towards him, tilting your head a little.
“It's a surprise.” He answered, shrugging his shoulders.
“It's a bar.”
“Your point?”
“I mean, how ‘exciting’ can a bar really be?” You snorted.
“Depends, you ever been in an underground pub?”
“No— say what now?” You gawked, turning to Hobie with wide eyes who just smirked and lifted his chin. When he didn't continue elaborating further, you decided to poke at the subject. “Wait, c'mon. You gotta tell me more.”
Chuckling, he let out a low whistle. “No, I don't.”
“You can't just tell me we're going to an underground bar then shut up. Like- what if I get kidnapped or sumn?” You exaggerated, throwing your hands up in the air.
“I'll be right there beside you, love, won't even let anyone lay a hand. Good?” He proposed, playfully tilting his head a little.
“You're torturing me.” You groaned.
“Maybe that's my plan.” He shrugged, flicking invisible lint off his jacket.
“...”
“How do I know you're not the one who's trying to kidnap me?” You narrowed your eyes at him. “Doesn't it seem oddly weird you just randomly appear at my parlor, offer me help and now you're taking me to a very secret underground bar.”
As Hobie heard you ramble on, he couldn't help but start to chuckle. His chuckle twisting into a flown blown laugh as you threw a playful punch in his shoulder.
“Tell me. You have trust issues or something?” He chuckled, wiping an unshed tear from his eye. “Just have a little patience. It'll be worth it, I promise. I mean, you can always go back if you’re too paranoid.”
“Hilarious.”
“I'm being serious, I can walk you back right now if you'd like.” He offered, slowing down.
Your lips parted as you thought about it for a quick second before shaking your head. “Nah, no thank you. I'm coming along.”
“Hm, suit yourself.” He shrugged looking back to the front of the street. Your footsteps falling in sync with one another once more.
Silence taking over, punctuated by the honking motorcycles and cars and the birds chirping.
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
Twelve minutes later, the both of you stood before an abandoned 2 storey office building. It looked like it hadn't been used in decades with its cracked windows which reflected the creamy moonlight. Graffiti turned the concrete structure into a riot of colors, doodles, swear words and penises with overgrown vines that clawed their way up the sides.
As Hobie strode towards the door, his hand inches away from pushing the door when you suddenly spoke up, “it's in there?”
“Yeah, pretty much.” He said turning his head towards you, “I know it don’ look it but I promise it's on purpose. Keeps the coopers away.”
“Ehh… I don't know. I'm starting to believe the whole “you're trying to kidnap me” thing.” Skepticism traced your voice.
“Oh, c’mon. Just trust me.”
“That's what I'm scared to do.” You scoffed. “This looks like a place where serial killers would stuff their victims in.”
“Dunno, never tried digging around. Two bodies at best?” He analyzed jokingly, covering up his laugh with a cough as he saw you pale a little.
“You're not funny.”
“Dunno ‘bout that, love.” He snickered. “You comin’?” He didn't wait for you to answer before he disappeared into the building.
You crossed your arms tapping your foot, not wanting to follow him in because of your stubbornness but something about standing alone sent chills down your spine.
I'm gonna kill him. You quickly sprinted into the office-like building following Hobie's direction, running away from something you don't even know.
You find yourself walking behind Hobie who walks up to an elevator across the room. The walls were crumbling, chairs laidon the floor, tables flipped upside down “Why the hell is this place so run down?”
“It's a meeting ground made by the government, basically all the corrupted and secret shit that they wanted no one knowing happened around here but word got out. Eventually punks started graffiting the grounds, protesting, sneaking in and eventually drove them out to who knows where. Started using it as a club and a speakeasy after cuz it was spacious grounds. Coopers don’ blink an eye towards this direction cuz they're bloody cowards.” He casually explains (leaving out the part where he whooped their asses and corrupted all their data with a chip he made as Spider-Punk but you didn't need to know that.)
He pressed a few buttons which opened up the elevator doors. Wordlessly, he gestured to you to get in.
“And you know this how?” You lifted an eyebrow climbing into the elevator, he followed suit.
When you asked that, it brought a proud smile to Hobie's face, “I was one of the punks.” He answered nonchalantly without glancing at you, the pockets of his leather vest stuffed with his hands. The elevator door slid back together locking the both of you in.
“Of course you were,” you said it like it was one of the most obvious things in the world for which you got a little nudge in the shoulder from his elbow. He pressed a button on a small keypad beside the door making the elevator flow down.
The elevator finally stopped making a small chiming sound after what seemed like minutes but in reality. It had been barely more than 40 seconds. Guess time just slowed down when you're in the presence of awkward silence… or Hobie.
The doors opened up letting bright neon lights seep in and illuminate your face. The ‘bar’ (which looked more like a rave) was more lively than most bars you've gone to. Vibrant blends of pink, blue, and yellow casted over you.
“W'dya think?” A voice shouted over the blasting songs, Hobie's voice. You just stared at him wide eyed, unable to make up a coherent response. “You'll get used to it.” He nudged you before stepping out the elevator, signaling for you to follow him.
You shook yourself out of your daze and promptly caught up with him. You swore to god you've put way too much trust in someone you met a day ago. Maybe not even a complete 24 hours yet but you're too deep in and too stubborn to turn around.
“You come here often then?” You arched an eyebrow in his direction, his gaze straight ahead but he tilted his head a little to meet yours.
“Occasionally. Usually—” He was cut off by someone who called out to him in the crowd. “Yo, it's Hobie everyone!”
People glanced in your (his) direction, waving at him and cheering him on. Said man waves back, winking in the direction of a few gals who probably fainted with how excited they got but you didn't bother checking.
“Mr.Popular, huh?”
“That's one way to put it. I come here to hang out often so I know people.”
“Do you usually take all your girls here?” You suddenly blurted out, heat clawed its way up your neck when you processed what you just had said. He raised an eyebrow, unable to suppress the shit-eating grin that came onto his face. “Shut up, I didn't mean it like that.” You grumbled, turning your head away from him.
“I didn't say anything,” he shrugged, feigning obliviousness.
“You implied it.”
“Did I?”
Something about his tone just wanted to make you sink into the floor and become one with the secretundergroundbarraveparty (whatever it was) or maybe punch that stupid smile off his face but you didn't do either. Instead you continued making your way through the crowd with him until you reached a bar. Several drinks lined up on several shelves behind the counter. You could tell that it wasn't just some cheap liquor crap either. It made you wonder where they had gotten it from.
He sat down on one of the stools, locking eyes with you before patting the stool beside him. Before you could say anything, your body moved on its own, settling yourself on the stool. Nobody else was really seated near your guys, most of the people were already drunk and partying.
Hobie leaned back against nothing but the air particles, his eyes resting on you when you stirred a little, turning to face him, “what?” you tilted your head.
“Nothin’, just thinking.” He gave you one of his small smiles before his attention averted to the raven-haired girl that walked through one of the doors that was hidden behind the counter. Her eyes fell on the two of you making them pop open, “are my eyes deceiving me or are those my most favorite people? Y/N, you didn't tell me you were in town!” She beamed.
“Yuri?” Your eyes harmonized hers. “I was gonna surprise you but… wait, what're you doing here?”
“Me? I work here, babe. The real question is what are the two of you doing here, hmm?” Yuri gaped, leaning against the counter. Her arms crossed over it.
“He dragged me into this.” You said pointing your thumb at the man beside you, making him gasp dramatically, “nah nah, I see how it is.” He drawled, turning his head away from you.
“Drama queen.” You accused, punched him in his bicep. The two of you acted like you had known each other for years by now.
“Ooh, you two must be close.” Yuri cooed, tilting her head, her cheek squished up against her hand as she watched the two of you interact.
“We met yesterday,” you scoffed, turning down any further suggestions that she could blurt out.
“Is that supposed to make a difference?” Yuri sassed, wiping a glass mug down with a cloth that was under the counter.
“Yuri.” Your eyebrows knitted together making her smirk, “what? I'm being serious.” She smirked.
“If this is you being serious, I don't wanna know what you being unserious is like.” Yuri snickered, placing two mugs in front of the two of you. Her body twisted around pulling out one of the alcoholic drinks out of the shelf and shaking the bottle before pouring it into your glass. “So darling, how've you been, how's Camden treating you so far?” She asked, pushing the two mugs across the counter towards you too.
“It's been alright. I've been working on my parlor recently. Otherwise… nothing special. Oh, Spider-Punk also saved my brain from spewing out like three days ago so that's something,” You shrugged when you suddenly heard Hobie choke on his drink, his beer going down the wrong pipe making him cough harshly. You and Yuri raise an eyebrow in his direction.
“Bloody hell. Sorry, this- this drink is really strong,” He sputtered, clearing his throat. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand, tears stinging his eyes.
“Okay…” Your tone contained skepticism in it, “you good now?” You asked to which he nodded. “Fantastic.”
You nodded, turning back to Yuri. A silence washing over the three of you even with the blast of music and chitter chatter in the back.
Yuri opened her mouth to say something but quickly closed it when she heard the door squeak open. A brunette walked through, his face flushed as he stumbled towards the counter. “Hey!”
“Flash!” Yuri squeaked, her eyebrows knitting together. “You're not supposed to drink during your fucking shift!”
“Bloody hell. Chill, mom.” He rolled his eyes, voice awfully slurred leaning his hip against the counter but miserably failing after almost falling.
“Ay,” Hobie lifted his head in a greeting while you sat beside him thinned-lipped.
“Oh my god. Hobie, is that you my man?” Flash exclaimed, throwing his arms out in a hug but unable to reach him due to the counter that separated them so going for a high-wave instead that he missed by a head.
“The one and only,” Hobie snickered, grabbing Flash's wrist and guiding him through the high five properly.
Flash clicked his tongue, turning his head towards you, “Ooh, and who's this pretty little thing?” He smirked, grabbing your hand that laid atop the counter and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. You gave him a polite smile, retracting your hand. You opened your mouth to introduce yourself but Hobie beat you to it. “Y/N Y/L/N. We met yesterday.”
“What he said,” you dipped your chin in agreement.
“A pretty name for a prettier lady,” Flash winked at you when Yuri pushed him away with her whole hand pressed up against his face, “don't mind this idiot. He always gets like this when he's woozy.”
“‘m not woozy.” Flash grumbled, pushing her hand off his face and crossing his arms over his chest like a child who didn't get what they wanted.
“Sure you aren't.” Yuri rolled her eyes, wiping the black marble counter with gold veinings etched into them with a scruffy cloth tinted a light brown at hand (you assumed that it used to be white once.)
“Just a little bit, alright?” He grunted.
You tune in and out of the conversation thinking about what you could do back at the parlor, what you still need to do and improve, how you're going to start developing and promoting your work. Making a website could do me goods, never hurts to try. Maybe I should make a Facebook page— You jumped out of your twilight zone when a pair of fingers snapped right in front of your face.
“Welcome back to earth, love.” Hobie's voice was the first one you processed.
“Sorry, just got some things on my mind.” You ran a hand over your head till the nape of your neck, letting it settle there.
“I can see that,” Hobie took the empty glass of beer in your hand and replaced it with a refilled one. Your eyes lingered on his hands, watching them with precision before your eyes found their way back to your glass, staring at the foam floating at the top of the glass. You brought the glass up to your lips letting the liquid burn down your throat.
Hobies eyes lit up with amusement, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Calm down, love. The drink ain’ gonna run away from you.” He quipped, his fingers gently wrapping around your forearm pulling the drink down from your lips. Your body slightly tensed up as his warmth seeped into your skin and throughout your body, your eyes meeting his.
Hobie's amused smirk seemed to drop into a line when he noticed the change in the atmosphere. His eyes stuck on yours, yours on his.
The tension suddenly drowned out by the cackle of Yuri who was watching Flash flirt (and fail miserably) with some gals that sat a few seats away from the two of you. His hand quickly untangled itself from your arm finding its way back onto the counter. You let out a breath of relief thankful for brief distraction.
Flash trudged back to where the three of you were, his shoulders slumped with a small pout planted on his face after the girls left with scowls and disgust etched on their faces.
“No luck?” Yuri teased.
“Shut up.” Flash huffed, snapping his head away from her to which Yuri hummed smugly.
Hobie reassured Flash by giving him a small pat on his back whispering some words into his ear that seemed to lighten him up.
“Hey, up for some dare or drink?” Flash beamed suddenly, his movement more animated than before.
“What?” you tilt your head quizzically.
“Dare or drink, do the dare or chug a beer.” Flash summarized with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.
“Oh no, I should probably get back in a couple of minutes,” you interjected, waving your hands in the air dismissively.
Yuri frowned, “c'mon babe, my shift is almost over. It won't hurt you to have a little fun, y'know?”
“I really shouldn't-” You protested but quickly folded with Yuri's small pout the alcohol in your system. I'm so gonna regret this later.
—
“Chug, chug, chug!” The three chanted while your hazy eyes tried to focus on the mug of beer in front of you. This might've been your fifth drink of the night, but could you blame yourself? You were definitely NOT texting your fucking ex that you missed him (given by our dear Flash). Not in a million years, but it was more tempting than chugging another beer and inevitably using the next person near you as a vomit bucket.
“Fuck, 'm gonna vomit.” You slurred, putting the glass mug down on the marble counter. Somehow, even with four and a half beers in your system, you could kind of think properly.
Kind of.
“It's the beer or the dare, babe.” Yuri reminded, wiggling her finger.
“Mhm,” you pinched the bridge of your nose trying to rub the blur out of your eyesight. “I-I’m going to find the bathroom.” You shook your head, standing up clumsily. You swallowed the saliva that had built up in your mouth but it didn't help with your slurring at all.
You just whipped around and showed yourself the way towards the bathroom which you had no idea where the fuck it was simply disappearing into the crowd.
“That's not even the direction of the bathroom.” Yuri murmured, sighing defeatedly.
“So… who's going with her?” Flash raised an eyebrow, his eyes bouncing between Hobie and Yuri. The two stared back at him, making him raise his hands in the air defensively, “not it.”
It made both Hobie and Yuri roll their eyes. Yuri turned towards Hobie, opening her mouth to say something but Hobie interrupted her before she could.
“I'll go, ya both enjoy. If we don't return, we left, ‘ight?” Hobie gave them a curt nod and small goodbyes before he headed your way quickly just in case you were about to do something stupidly stupid and wouldn't be able to take it back.
Hobie strutted through the packed room, hands in pocket, eyes searching for a certain (h/c) headed individual. His height an advantage as he could see over the array of people. His nostrils taking in a whiff of the sweat and alcohol mixed in with the air, dancing bodies bumping against his.
Where did she go? He bit the inside of his cheek, eyes wandered over the room, skimming through the crowd but unable to spot you. You went in the complete wrong direction so you couldn't possibly have made it to the bathroom.
Should he call your name? Probably not, as tempting as it was, you weren't really a lost child.
He caught a glimpse of you – your back turned to him whilst you talked to two other girls. He doesn't remember introducing you to them. Maybe you knew them already? He pushed the thoughts aside, walking over towards you.
He tapped your shoulder, “Y/N-” only to freeze in his stance when he saw ‘you’ turn around.
“Huh?” The amber-eyed woman looked Hobie up and down, her eyes sparkling. “Sorry, can I help you?” She spoke softly, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.
“Sorry love, thought you were somebody else.” He explained noticing her smile slip a little.
“Oh.” She murmured melancholy, plastering a fake smile on her face. Hobie nodded and quickly left before she could say anything else.
Something – Someone – suddenly slammed into his side, his hands reaching down and grabbing their waist to steady them.
He looked down, finding your hazy eyes melding with his, “you good?”
“Just a little… light-headed.” You reassured, rubbing your eye with the heel of your palm unable to ignore the uneasiness in the back of your throat but you didn't see why he had to know that.
“You wanna get outta here?” Hobie suggested, watching you narrow your eyes at him before nodding and mumbling something he assumed was a yes.
He moved his hand up wrapping around your shoulder and leading you towards the elevator.
—
Ding.
The Elevator had reached the top, the metal doors sliding out revealing how the dark blue had taken over the sky, multiple glowing specks adorning the sky. What time was it? Where were you two going now? You wondered, your thoughts racing from one to another. At least they hadn't gone completely blank… yet.
Your body moved on its own — with the help of Hobie, of course. Otherwise you'd probably still be tossed around the crowd like a colorful toy among a group of children.
You'd rushed over dipped your head over a plant pot that busied the wall right next to the elevator when you reached it. Gagging and retching, expecting your half-digested lunch and almost 5 beers to make a quick reappearance but it never did.
“You feelin’ better?” The voice snapped you out of your musing.
“Nope,” you answered with a pop of the p. “I think… I think it's probably gotten worse actually.” Your answer was slow, trying to comprehend each syllable you spit out of your mouth.
“Eh, should've known better before dragging ya into a bar and making you chug beer.” He sighed, feeling you lean against him while he continued to steady your movement.
“Probably.”
“Definitely.”
“Did you enjoy at least?” Hobie asked, trying to make some good of the situation.
“Mhm.” You crooned, stumbling over your own foot but never making it to the floor. He twisted the door knob that probably would've broken down if the breeze of air was too fast. “So where do you live?”
“Eh… my apartment.” You answered.
He chuckled at your ominous answer, “and where would your ‘apartment’ be?”
Huh… your apartment? It was on street… Your thoughts went blank. Did you just forget where you fucking live? yes. Yes you did. But if you think hard enough– nope. nothing. Maybe you shouldn't have drank that much.
With how long you were silent for, Hobie realized the problem. “Ya forgot?”
“I forgot.”
𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @the-kr8tor @missshelleyduvall @hobieszeze
Banner(s) by @/cafekitsune
#A Piercing for the Heart#A Piercing for the Heart Series#A Piercing for the Heart Chapter 2#hobie brown x body piercer! reader#hobie brown x fem!reader#hobie brown#across the spiderverse#atsv hobie#spider punk#hobie brown x reader#fanfic#hobie brown fanfiction#APFH#hobiebrown#hobie x reader#hobie brown x you#hobie x you#hobie brown fluff#rexlpost#spiderpunk x you#spiderpunk x reader#spiderpunk#spiderpunk x body piercier!reader#spiderpunk x fem!reader
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Hiii love your writingggg, could you plsss do very innocent!reader and pervy!ethan 🫶🏻
Hiii! I hope you like it, even though you requested this MONTHS ago.
I'm not innocent, so I'm not the best at writing it🙃 Hopefully this is okay:)
Creep - Pervy!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader
This contains SMUT - Minors DNI
Summary: You ask Ethan for help in econ, and once Mindy mentions the empty bedroom in the apartment she shares with Ethan and Chad, you agree to move in. But you realize that your sweet, dorky new roommate has been stealing your panties.
Contains: Pervy kinda creepy Ethan, innocent inexperienced reader, fingering. m!masturbation.
A/N: Okay...this needs a part 2 but I'm already at 5k words lmao. A lot of fics I've read along these lines had had Ethan more subby, but not in this one. 👀
*For the poll I posted earlier today, this one had the most votes at the time of me posting this fic. I'm going to write them all in the order that they're wanted:)*
It seemed like your life was starting to fall apart. You couldn’t stand your roommate, your boyfriend had broken up with you, and your grade for econ was starting to tank. When you brought up your grade to your professor after class, hoping to figure out some way to raise it, she suggested that you talk to Ethan Landry.
The next time you had class, you beelined towards him once he walked in. He noticed you, getting a little nervous the closer you got. He wasn’t the best at talking to girls, he even thought this could’ve been a figment of his imagination that the girl he struggled to take his eyes off was walking to him. He was chewing the inside of his cheek, his eyes not leaving you until you were finally face to face.
“Ethan, right?” you sweetly said, as he nodded. “I hear you’re the best for tutoring, and I desperately need your help if you have the time.”
“I’ll make the time,” he spat out, before he internally screamed at himself for sounding so desperate to help. “I mean, I can help you.”
“You’re a lifesaver,” you said, as you pulled out your phone. “What’s your number?”
“Oh, um…” he trailed off, racking his brain for those ten digits that he suddenly forgot. “I’m sorry, it’s been a long day.”
“It’s okay,” you smiled, “Are you okay with me just giving you my number and you can text me so we can set something up?”
“Yeah,” he said, as he pulled out his phone and went to create a new contact. He passed you his phone as you typed in your name and number, before you handed it back to him.
“Don’t forget to text me,” you said, a sweet smile playing on your lips as you turned to walk back to your seat.
“I won’t,” he said, tightly gripping his phone in his hand as you turned to smile at him once more.
He was struggling to focus as he sat through that class. His fingers kept rubbing over the phone screen that your thumbs had moved across, and he started to realize how pathetic he was for already being so addicted to you when you’d only spoken to him once.
Later that week, you were supposed to meet Ethan in the library to study. You both completely forgot about the renovations they were doing, the normally quiet space filled with the loud sounds of the various pieces of machinery on the opposite side of the room.
“Maybe we should try to do this some other time,” you yelled over the noise. “I can’t concentrate on anything you’re saying.”
“Oh, okay,” Ethan said, looking down so you wouldn’t see the sad look on his face. That’s when he started to get an idea. “My apartment is only two blocks away. It should be quieter. You want to come over to study?”
You liked to be cautious, and you normally wouldn’t go to someone’s apartment that you barely knew, but Ethan seemed innocent enough, and you desperately needed to pass the class so you wouldn’t have to take it again.
“Sure,” you said, wincing as the noise in the room got louder.
You walked beside Ethan as you went to his apartment, and even though it was just for studying, he felt a glint of pride as he walked with you. He hoped that anyone who saw you together would think you were his.
“Hopefully my roommates won’t be too loud,” Ethan sighed, as he stuck his key in the front door.
“Nothing is worse than what’s going on in the library right now,” you said, as he shrugged.
“You say that now…”
You barely made it inside when you heard arguing. Ethan sighed in defeat before he turned to you, “I moved in with my friends, and they’re constantly arguing.”
“Oh,” you giggled, as you followed him into the living room of the apartment. “Oh, hey Mindy,” you said, as she turned to you and smiled.
“Hey! What are you doing here?” she asked, as she walked over to you. Chad just stood there, still worked up from the spat they were having when you walked in.
“Ethan’s trying to help me not fail econ,” you said, as she nodded.
“I remember you mentioning you were having trouble with it.”
Ethan was confused as he stood there, because Mindy had never mentioned you, but she seemed to know you quite well. The two of you talked for a few minutes, and once Ethan heard another guy’s name get mentioned, he immediately got jealous.
“I’m proud of you for not giving him another chance,” Mindy said, as you let out a small laugh.
“I’m not going to say I didn’t think about it, but I don’t need him making my life any harder than it needs to be right now,” you sighed, “On top of the bullshit with him, my roommate is just so awful. Like, she woke me up blasting music before the sun even came up today. I’m trying to find somewhere else to live, but I haven’t had any luck yet.”
“Well, we’re looking for a fourth roommate…” Mindy trailed off, as Ethan’s eyes grew wide. “It’d be nice to have another girl here.”
“Don’t tempt me,” you joked, as Mindy smiled.
“Seriously, think about it,” she said, before she started to yell. “Chad!”
You noticed that the other boy was no longer in the room, but you saw him again as he turned the corner and groaned. “What?”
“Okay, don’t be rude,” she snapped, “I’m trying to convince her to move into the fourth bedroom.”
“Oh,” Chad said, his annoyed face turning up in a smile. “Hey, I’m Chad.”
“Hey,” you said, before he started to go over rent and other things you’d need to know. “Why would I want to move in when you two argue like this?” you joked, as Chad tried to play it off.
“We shared a womb, we lived in the same house until we moved into our dorms, and I finally got a break from her,” he said, as she scoffed, “But now we have to live together again and we’re trying to figure out how to do that.”
“I’ve never lived with boys before…and I’m sure my parents would kill me if they ever found out, but I’ll definitely think about it,” you said, before you turned to Ethan. “I’m sorry, you want to study now?”
“Yeah, let’s go to my room,” he said, as he led you there.
You both got settled on his bed. He sat across from you, his back against the headboard as you adjusted to get more comfortable, laying on your stomach. He bit his lip once he noticed the perfect view he had down your shirt, the neckline barely covering anything as your chest was pressed against his bed.
“So, where should we start?” you asked, your soft voice barely getting his attention as he kept staring at your chest. He wanted to squeeze your boobs, suck on them, fuck them, even. “Ethan?” you questioned as you looked away from your notebook, and opened your laptop, completely blocking the sight he was fantasizing over.
“Oh, uh…” he said, as he opened his laptop. “Maybe let’s work on the quiz that’s due this weekend. It’ll show me what you do and don’t need help with.”
You spent over an hour studying with Ethan, and you felt like you were having a little bit of a better understanding. You were starting to get hungry, so you closed your laptop. Ethan glanced over his screen the second he noticed, getting another peak down your shirt again. This time, he saw a part of one of your nipples peaking out of your bra, the sight making his pants grow tighter. He fought off the sound that was threatening to come out before you sat up, once again taking his perfect view away from him.
“I’m starving,” you said, as you started to put your stuff away. “But thank you so much for your help, and I hope you’ll want to keep helping me. You’re my only hope.”
He softly chuckled at your words, “If you move in, we can study whenever you want.”
“You’d be cool with it?” you asked, smiling at him. “You didn’t really say anything out there and I didn’t want to actually start considering it until you said something.”
“Yeah, I think it’s cool,” he said, “If you do want to, and you need help moving or anything, let me know.”
“Thanks, Ethan,” you said, smiling again before you made your way out of his room.
He wanted to walk you to the door, but he knew the second he stood up, his hard cock would be so obvious. He ran his hand over the spot you were laying on the bed, your warmth still soaked up by his comforter. The view down your shirt was burned in his brain as he got up and walked over to the door, shutting and locking it before he dropped his pants to give his aching cock the attention it desperately needed.
The next time you had econ, you walked in and sat down beside Ethan. He didn’t notice at first, but he soon smelled the familiar scent that he couldn’t get out of his head after you’d left his apartment a few days before. He wasn’t sure if it was your hair or the perfume you were wearing, but it smelled delicious.
“Hey,” he smiled, his pupils growing large as he saw you. “Are you okay?”
He took in the stress on your face, and how tired you looked.
“Yeah, are you sure you’re cool with me moving in?” you asked, “Because I can’t deal with my roommate anymore.”
“Yeah, of course,” he said, “What happened?”
“She invites her boyfriend to stay over whenever she doesn’t have class the next morning,” you sighed, “I don’t want to explain all the sounds I had to listen to while I tried to sleep last night.”
“Oh,” he said softly, “Well, your room would be beside mine, and I wouldn’t keep you up all night.”
“I bet that’s why I’m failing this class right now. I never sleep,” you said, as you looked over to him. “Wait, you don’t have a girlfriend that stays over?”
“No,” he said, his cheeks turning pink at your question.
“Sex is overrated,” you shrugged, “But I really thought you would’ve had a girlfriend.”
“Really?” he asked, as your professor walked in.
“Yeah, you’re a cutie,” you smiled, before you directed your attention to the lecture.
Ethan was thankful that you were so focused and didn’t see the cheesy smile on his face. The girl he’d been thinking about as he jerked his cock for the last few days called him cute, and his heart was swelling.
After a couple weeks, Ethan, Chad, and Mindy showed up to the apartment you currently lived in while your roommate was at her boyfriend’s to help you move.
“First, I want you guys to know that none of this mess is mine,” you said, as soon as you answered the front door for them.
“Whoa,” Chad said as he glanced around. “There’s no way you live with a girl.”
“Yeah, you’ll never guess what I found on the kitchen floor this morning,” you said, as Mindy started to think.
“With the mess, I’m going to guess…dead mouse?”
“Not even close,” you said, as you shook your head and shuddered as you thought about it. “It was a condom.”
“Like…in the wrapper or…?” Chad asked, as you, once again, shook your head.
“Used.”
“Ewwww,” Mindy said, cringing at the thought. “Okay, is anything in the kitchen yours?”
“I already boxed that stuff up. Except the dishes that she’s refused to wash,” you said, as you led them to the living room. “The TV is mine, and that lamp,” you said, as you pointed, “But other than that, I really just have to worry about my room.”
“I think it’d be best to have all the heavy stuff in the living room so Ethan and I can worry about that,” Chad said, as you nodded and led them down the hall.
You had already packed up most of your room, which made it so easy for your new roommates to help you. Once Chad was carrying your mattress out and Mindy had ran out to get coffee, Ethan started to glance around your room. He noticed the hamper full of clothes in the corner, and he found himself inching closer towards it as he listened to you and Chad talk in the living room. Before he could stop himself, he grabbed a shirt off the top of the pile, inhaling its scent. He let out a deep breath before he went to put the shirt back in the hamper, before he noticed some black lace sticking out under a pair of your jeans. He snatched it out of the basket and put it in his pocket before he put the shirt back in it once he heard footsteps coming back down the hall.
“Did you need help with this?” Ethan asked, pointing to the basket, trying to make it not seem like he was being weird.
“Shit, I forgot to do laundry,” you groaned, as the realization hit him that the panties he’d grabbed had been worn. “I’ll carry that out.”
“Okay,” Ethan said, before Chad motioned for him to help with the dresser.
Later that day after you got your stuff moved into your new room, you flopped on your freshly made bed as Mindy popped in.
“So, I’m going to try to convince the guys to share a bathroom so you don’t have to share with Ethan,” she said, as you shrugged.
“It’s not a big deal,” you said, “I just hope he doesn’t mind all the girly stuff in the shower and the makeup and stuff.”
Ethan didn’t mind at all. In fact, he’d already been in the bathroom, smelling your body wash, your shampoo and conditioner. The skincare products you used. He realized that all those things together were the cause of the scent that made his head spin.
Later that night after you had takeout with everyone, Ethan excused himself to go to bed. He couldn’t stop thinking about your panties that were still in his pocket. Once he pulled them out, he ran his fingers over the lace before taking in your scent. He softly groaned before he dropped his pants, the thoughts of his face buried in your pussy making him harder by the second. He had them tightly clutched in his fist as he started to stroke himself with his free hand, small whimpers flying out of his mouth as he tried to imagine how soft your hand would feel wrapped around him. His bottom lip was in between his teeth once he started to get louder, the tip of his cock red as be brought himself closer to the edge. Just as he was about to cum, he deeply inhaled the scent of your panties one more time before he rubbed them against the tip of his cock, his thick, white ropes covering the lace.
You thought living with boys was going to be difficult, but your first month wasn’t bad. You were surprised at how clean they liked everything to be, and Ethan always put the toilet seat down. You started to get close to your dorky roommate, especially once you spent so much time studying together. You already thought he was cute, but once you actually got to know more about him, you realized that he was so sweet, so nice. He might’ve been a little shy, too, but he got to the point where he was doing cute little things to make you laugh.
One day, you went to do your laundry in the apartment. You walked over and were about to throw stuff in when you noticed clothes were already inside, and Ethan quickly rounded the corner with the rest of the stuff he needed to toss in.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” he said, “You want me to take my stuff out? I can wash it later.”
“No, it’s fine, I’ll wait,” you said with a smile, before you noticed something familiar in the washer. “Oh,” you said, your cheeks turning pink as you reached out and grabbed your panties out of the washer. “Must’ve dropped these in.”
Ethan’s eyes grew wide as he noticed them in your hand, the realization hitting you that they were sticky.
“Eww, what is all over these?” you said, a disgusted look on your face as you tried to figure it out. You looked over to Ethan, his face bright red and his eyes huge, when you pieced it together. “Ethan…”
He just stared at you, the silence deafening as he tried to think of something, anything to say to you. He’d gotten away with stealing your panties for a month, but it was a way for him to feel close to you, and satisfy some of the sexual frustration he had whenever he thought about you.
“What’s on my panties?” you questioned, as he tensed up. “Actually, I don’t think I want to know.”
You tossed them back in the washer and walked past him and headed straight to the bathroom to wash your hands. When you went to your room and shut the door, Ethan huffed and tossed in the rest of stuff that was in his hands before he started the washer.
As the day went by, you couldn’t stop thinking about Ethan, and how you’d noticed that pairs of your panties had been going missing ever since you moved in. But then you’d randomly see them again, in the top drawer of your dresser after a few days. You didn’t think Ethan was like that, and it made you feel a little uneasy to live with him.
Later that night, you had to say something to him. You walked out of your room and glanced around the apartment for him, before you walked to his closed door and started to knock. He eased it open after a few seconds, his eyes connecting with yours through the small crack.
“Can we talk?” you asked, as he took a deep breath and hesitantly opened the door for you.
You walked in and took a seat on the side of the bed, your gaze on his floor as you tried to think of the right way to talk to him.
“You want me to leave the door open,” he asked, barely above a whisper as you shook your head no.
“If Mindy or Chad come home, I don’t want them to hear the conversation.”
“Thanks,” he mumbled, before he took a seat beside you. “I’m sorry.”
“Why were you stealing my panties?” you asked, as he took a deep breath.
“I can’t explain it without sounding like the total creep you probably already think I am.”
“So…that was what I thought it was on them,” you said, as you turned to look at him. He nodded, looking away to not meet your gaze.
“Again, I am so sorry,” he said, “I know you probably hate me, and I understand if you don’t want to be around me. I’ll stay in my room so you don’t have to see me.”
“I’m just a little confused,” you said softly, as he finally let his eyes connect with yours. “What’s so exciting about my panties?”
At that moment, one thing you said to Ethan started to play in his head. ‘Sex is overrated.’ He was questioning how much experience you actually had.
“Do you really not know or are you fucking with me?” he questioned.
“Like, does it feel good? How does it even turn you on?” you asked, curiously staring at him.
“They uh…yeah, it feels good when I uh…rub them on myself. And they smell like you.”
“They smell like fabric softener and laundry detergent,” you said, a small laugh slipping out as he shook his head.
“I haven’t been stealing clean ones…they smell like you.”
“Oh,” you said, as you looked away from him. “That turns you on?”
“You have no idea,” he said, and even though the conversation was uncomfortable, he was getting hard.
“Why are guys so weird?” you thought out loud, laughing a little as you shook your head. “So does that mean that you like me? Or you’re like…sexually attracted to me? I still don’t fully get it.”
“Both,” he said, “I think you’re so beautiful, and I’ve had so much fun with you this last month…but I also think about you in a different way, too. Ya know?”
“I’ve thought about you that way, too,” you admitted, “It’d kind of hard not to. I hear you through the walls all the time.”
“You’ve heard me?” he asked, a blush spreading to his cheeks. “I’m sorry, I know you hated when you heard your old roommate.”
“I like it when I hear you,” you said so softly that he barely heard it.
“Do you touch yourself when you hear me?”
Your breathing got heavier at his question, and Ethan noticed. You were getting so flustered under his gaze.
“I…I’ve tried to,” you said, as you took in the curious look on his face.
“Tried to?” he asked, “What do you mean?”
“Like…I know what feels good, but I can never get myself…there, if you know what I mean.”
“You’ve never made yourself cum?” he questioned, admiring how cute you looked as you got embarrassed.
“No one has.”
“No one?” he asked, his throat dry at the thought. “Are you a virgin?”
“No…but I’ve never enjoyed sex. Like, it feels good, but I think it’s so disappointing when you hear how amazing orgasms are and then I just never get one.”
Ethan expected the conversation that was happening to go so differently. He thought you hated him, but there you were, telling him that you’d tried to get yourself off when you’d heard him. The thought of him being the first one to make you cum had him salivating, but he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable if he offered.
“Have you ever…given someone an orgasm?” you asked, as he nodded. “I’m jealous of whoever she is.”
“Don’t be,” he said, scooting a little closer to you. “Fuck, I’d make you cum all the time if I could.”
“Really?” you smiled, “If you ever want to, I’m right next door,” you joked, as he smiled and shook his head.
“Hey, don’t offer that or I’ll be in your room every day.”
You were starting to squirm against his bed, your thighs rubbing together so subtly that he could barely tell. The sexual tension was so thick, your breathing getting heavier as you thought about how good Ethan would make you feel.
“I think I need to go back to my room,” you said, as you started to stand up. That’s when you glanced at Ethan’s lap, noticing the tent in his sweatpants.
“Do you really want to?” he asked, “Because if you want me to take care of you right now, I will.”
“Seriously?” you questioned, as he smiled and nodded.
“Come here,” he said, reaching out to grab your hands, pulling you to him.
Once Ethan leaned in to kiss you, he was almost taken aback by how quickly your lips were moving against his. He was desperate for you, but you were just as desperate for him. He matched your pace before he pushed you back on the bed, his hand running from your hip, up your ribs, until it landed on your breast. You gasped into the kiss once he squeezed it.
You had massive butterflies in your stomach once you felt his cock pressing against your thigh through his sweatpants, your head was spinning, but you were loving every second of it.
“Hey, I have an idea,” he said, once he pulled away to catch his breath. “I think we should go to your room.”
“Why?” you asked because you didn’t want to stop. You needed his lips back on yours.
“Because you have that full length mirror leaning against your wall,” he said, chuckling once you noticed the confused look on your face. “I want you to see what I’m doing to make you cum…in case I’m never here to help you.”
“Okay,” you said, as he stood up and grabbed your hands.
Once he opened his bedroom door, he listened to make sure he didn’t hear anyone else in the apartment before he walked out and to your room next door. He shut and locked your bedroom door once he made it inside, before he pulled you into another kiss. His hands held onto your hips until they started to rub against the flesh under the hem of your shirt. He kept inching it further and further up, until he pulled away to pull it over your head. His lips went back to yours as he reached around to unhook your bra, his hands squeezing at your breasts once they were free.
His mouth moved to your neck as his hands explored your body, before they snaked under the waistband of your leggings. He moved them down over your hips as you shimmied out of them, leaving you in nothing but your panties. He recognized them as the first pair he ever stole, the black lacy ones.
“Fuck,” he mumbled, as his hand moved to rub you over your panties. The material was soaked as you moaned at the feeling. “That feel good?”
“Yes,” you said, quickly nodding your head just in case he needed the extra confirmation. “So good.”
“I hate that I have to take these off you,” he said, as he inched the fabric down your thighs, leaving you completely nude in front of him. “I’m going to sit on the floor in front of the mirror, and I want you to sit between my legs.”
“Okay,” you said, as he took a seat on the floor, his legs spreading for you to sit. You did as he said, looking at him in the mirror as he spread your legs, placing your feet on either side of his legs on the floor.
You watched him lick two of his fingers before he placed them against your clit, rubbing slow circles. Your eyes stayed on the reflection of his hand, your mouth parting as you started to breathe faster. He added a little more pressure as you fully relaxed back into his chest, the softest moans slipping out as he went a little faster.
“Ethaaan,” you whined out, the noise quickly becoming his new favorite sound.
“Shh, I don’t know if anyone else is here,” he said softly, “Just keep your legs spread for me, baby.”
He rubbed a few more circles on your clit before his fingers moved lower, one of them slipping inside you. He pumped it in and out for a minute before he added another, as you angled your neck to look up at him. He leaned down to kiss you as his fingers moved, before he started to mumble against your lips.
“If you ever finger yourself, this…” he said, as he curved them just right, a low moan flying out of your mouth, “Is the spot that needs attention. Okay baby?”
“Okay,” you whimpered, as he moved his fingers faster.
The sounds you were making just kept getting louder, and Ethan was just hoping and praying that no one else was home. One of your hands clung to his thigh as your other hand wrapped around his wrist, as you started to feel…different. It felt so good, and the last thing you wanted was for him to stop. Once he went even faster, the squelching sound of your wet pussy and your whimpers filling the room, your legs were trying so hard to close as your toes curled against the carpet on the floor.
“Oh my god,” you moaned, your fluttering eyes watching his hand in the mirror as your body started to tingle.
“Cum for me baby,” he encouraged, as you finally let that feeling wash over your body. You were jolting, your eyes screwed shut as his fingers started to slow, his free hand roaming your chest as you let out all your sounds.
Once you fully relaxed in his arms, he placed a kiss to the top of your head as your hazy eyes connected with his in the mirror.
“Now you can’t say no one’s ever made you cum,” he said with a smile, as he slid his fingers out of you. “Did it feel good?”
“That was better than I thought it was going to be,” you said, “Thanks, Ethan.”
“You’re welcome.”
You sat there in silence for a minute as you felt his cock pressing against you, and you wanted so badly to take care of him, until you heard commotion in the apartment.
“Hey, guysss,” Chad yelled, as he walked down the hall.
You tensed up as you glanced at your door, before Ethan whispered, “It’s okay, I locked it.”
You relaxed again before Chad started to yell again, “Tara’s here!”
You forgot about hanging out with Mindy and Tara for the night, and you didn’t want to pull away from Ethan, but you hesitantly did, your legs wobbling as you tried to stand. Ethan got up to help you, and once you got your bearings, he started to grab your clothes off the floor for you.
“Thanks,” you said, before you noticed him pick up your panties.
“No, thank you,” he joked, a smirk playing on his lips as he backed towards your door. “I’ll see you when you get back in the morning.”
“I better still have panties in that top drawer when I get back.”
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A Wolf and a Snake (Wriothesley x Reader)
Chapter 5: The Tides Are Changing
A/N: Enjoy!
Taglist: @yue-caelum, @reyy-chanx, @mis-disaster, @ladyarchiviste, @keigo-hawks-takami-simp
Warnings: Fighting lol, physical violence, pain, almost-heart failure (?), violent thoughts, yandere shit, yapping, vaginal fingering, a liiil bit of edging
"You've got to be careful.".
Even when scolding you, Agatha always laced her voice with sweetness. You could count the number of times she was genuinely mad at you on one hand. If she was this evening, you couldn't blame her given the circumstances.
"About?".
She sighed.
"You know damn well about what, Y/N. I'm fully on your side, and I think Lord Wriothesley will be great to you. But I worry... It's normal that you are happy beyond reason with him. I fear that you lose yourself in your happiness and forget that you're not supposed to be there, at that time, with him of all people.".
Deep down, you knew she was right. The circumstance that she worried about was your approaching wedding day, which catalyzed more and more restrictions for you. Your parents let you leave the house less and were more strict regarding your behavior, way of expression, speech... Everything.
With that, sneaking out to see Wriothesley was becoming a more challenging endeavor. Once a matter of meeting at night and being back before dawn, you now had to coordinate by the hours, pray to Focalors that no secret last-minute changes required your presence, be careful of the place and who was around (Fontainians, particularly of the higher classes, were Teyvat-renown gossipers), not laughing too loudly, and on top of it all, staying vigilant, which you were becoming notoriously bad at.
You were once a little paranoid, as you should have always been. Now, both you and Wriothesley forgot your meetings' lack of approval and the danger that may ensue. More than once, you risked being late in returning home; Had Agatha not sent a hurried message reminding you that more than one servant asked about you, you would have certainly been late enough for your Father to look for you.
Though the air of your conversation was tense, you knew you had to thank her for saving your skin.
"Y/N...".
She stopped herself from speaking once she said your name. She wouldn't have called out to you if not to say something. Something was troubling her.
"Yes? What is it, Agatha?".
After an awkward minute, she looked up to you. Her eye to yours, and her brow furrowed in disapproval. The same look your mother gave you when you played the piano badly.
"Y/N, I've always cherished you, but I have to say it: This is getting out of hand. Your adventures are becoming more ridiculous by the day. I had to pull out my rosaries to pray that you would come home before Master! I haven't done so in 20 years! I never had to keep this insane vigil over you when you started seeing Lord Wriothesley, because you knew. You always kept track of yourself, and I was fine with it. But developing eye bags? Losing track of time? Corrupting novice police forces? Making me shiver and cry for your safety?!".
All your life, Agatha took your side even if it meant putting her career as a governess at risk. There was no punishment she didn't try to protect you from, even though your parents worried that she would be lenient and ruin you. She even gave Wriothesley her approval, the only adult approval you cared about. Why was her tune changing like this?
"Agatha, I said I'm sorry and you accepted it! You know how horrible my life grows by the day, all for this blond swine I'm supposed to marry! I understand your concerns, but as of now, I haven't seen him in a month, and-".
"Y/N!!!".
She got up brusquely, an uncharacteristic gesture along with yelling your name. A pit of malaise started to grow in your stomach, and you were worried that it would spread to your esophagus and make you vomit. You didn't like where this was going.
"I would be patient if your little plan would yield its output sooner. But this is taking way too long! I've known girls who ran away with their lovers faster than you have! How much more is this going to take!? How many more near heart attacks will you give me?".
"Agatha, you told me to not jump to the drastic measure! We're still trying to do things the legitimate way-".
"Legitimate way? You're already spending your allowance the same way your Father did whenever he wanted something done faster than what the commoner got! Where's the legitimacy in that? Why do you still act for it?".
She went there. The pain was spreading to the pit of your belly, and its top.
"You want to talk about legitimate matters? How about that dumbass you call your half-brother who got kicked out of this manor like a dog? How about how he lost an entirely pleasurable and easy life because he doesn't know that an illegitimate sibling should STAY hidden?".
She gasped, burst into tears and you hugged her while apologizing for getting even lower, and you both cooled off... That's what would have happened in an ideal world where the both of you weren't so stressed. Only the first action took place.
She looked down at the floor, and for a fleeting moment, you wondered whether you had gone too far, digging into such sensitive history. But that ended when she looked up, even angrier and with teary eyes.
Agatha, the sweet-voiced. Agatha, the quiet and low of tone, a constant in your life. You did not think she could yell at you like this.
"My brother? MY BROTHER?!? You can drop the nice, exceptional noble act now! You screw commoners over with rules and break them with no regard for how the rest of us will be affected! At least my brother is still a man of integrity, and he'd sooner shoot himself than take your stupid bribes! Integrity! Can your money buy you that? Can your man-dog fling buy you that, or is he too busy with shiny bracelets and fake promises?!?".
"I never tried to bribe him, Agatha! I'm courteous enough to stay away from him! What do you mean, commoners getting fucked by rules?! Don't you think that I'm getting screwed out of a life I want? And that's why I need to do this behind everyone's backs?! And unlike him, Wriothesley does not make fake promises!".
She got up and close to your face, her tears even more visible. You never feared an adult's wrathful gaze upon you as much as hers'.
"You don't get it, do you, Y/N?".
"What?".
She stopped moving, and perhaps even breathing. Then she giggled and laughed raucously as if she were an evil witch from your childhood books. Or that one tutor who laughed at you when you gave a wrong answer.
She turned to the opposite side, before turning her face so you could see it sideways. She never gave this shit-eating grin.
"At least my brother is happily bound in holy matrimony. If Wriothesley was that intent on marrying you, he would have snatched you between his teeth by now. The length of this little plan makes it clear: He's just having a bit of fun with you.".
A bit of fun.
A bit of fun.
A day where he'll grow bored, ditch you to your grey life again, and forget about you. A day where he'll marry another woman. Not you.
In the red you saw, you slapped a vase to the ground, perhaps hallucinating Agatha's face.
"AGATHA!".
In hindsight, she was making sense. Wriothesley talked day and night, paper and in person, about how much he wanted to marry you. It was clear that legitimate methods, such as lawfully convicting your fiancé, were failing. Or taking way too long. In your world, these two were one and the same. Your marriage date was not getting postponed, even if you scarred your face the day of.
Agatha was being cruel, but she wasn't wrong. He knew and kept operating like this. You wished Wriothesley was here so you could claw his eyes out. So you could grab your sword and impale the heart he swore was yours. So you could stitch his mouth closed and he'd never tell lies again. So you could embarrass him the same way she just did.
You lunged at her, but she moved out of the way. You landed on the floor, messing up your (favorite color) dress. You never thought your fate could grow crueler. Even the color to your gray was turning out to be a lie.
All you could turn to your back and sob your heart out. Maybe if you avoided Agatha's pitiful gaze... Maybe if Celestia saw your blotched face and heard your cries, she would regret what she wrote as your fate.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
You tried to distract yourself for the rest of the night. You occupied the piano only to play sad pieces and be praised for your "empathy with the composer". You snuck a piece of cake and took a bite before feeling sick again. You walked around the manor and only got a bunch of servants asking if you were alright, and your brother saying: "Don't worry. Whatever moroseness you feel will disappear when you walk down the aisle.". It took everything in you not to burst into tears on the spot.
You couldn't leave this prison you called a manor. The only place you didn't try was the low garden, even if it held the fateful moments of his appearance. Your chase. Your star-gazing. Your first kiss.
At least it wasn't enclosed in walls. It was worth a shot.
It was a night with few stars. You never liked those, because the night you met him was full of them. It was one of the loveliest sights you saw.
It seemed to you like starless nights were a time when most tragedies happened, like tonight and the night Agatha's half-brother- No, brother was exiled. Seriously, you had to correct that "half", even if it was technically true and it hurt her at the moment. You remembered when she started the story with: "My contract has an exclusive clause that I must not tell you this, so please, keep it between us.". And you did. You returned the favor and told her of damning actions that may as well be written in an exclusive clause citing harsh punishment, many of those actions being recent.
You wanted to cry again. Perhaps you still needed to calm down, you thought. Being here didn't help, so it was time to try something new. You left to the kitchen to make lavender and chamomile tea, a brew you often drank before exams or social events. You let the tea leaves steep for a little longer than you should have, hoping that the transitory act of making tea would take up a few more minutes of your miserable day. Once it was ready, you carried the mug to your room, steps as light as they have seen since you learned how to walk.
You set the mug on your desk before crashing down on your bed and taking a deep sigh. By the Archons, what a tiring mess your life was. You had a theory that every noble girl and woman could sleep for the rest of her life. It was tiring: From the acting to the constant monitoring of your actions, you felt like human beings weren't made for this. You were glad your bedroom was away and thus had less sound emerging from it. You were taught to never crash down on your bed as you did, but it was one of those little pleasures. Just like illegitimate snacks and staying up and baltering and twirling around for the pure enjoyment of seeing your skirt float up in circles ('Y/N! Be graceful, your legs are showing!!'), they were the only thing you could be grateful for now. Your governess just joined your family and society's side on how to live, and the man you loved was potentially toying with you all along.
You didn't know which mental picture bothered you more: Wriothesley laughing at your naivete, or Wriothesley courting another woman after he was done with you. It may be the second- no it was definitely the second. The first was horrible, but the second was a far bigger betrayal to you. Agatha would be right: His heart was never yours, his promises were always empty and you may have been blind at parties while he was ogling other women. If it would be because of their faces, should you slash them with a knife or curved dagger? If it were their bodies, should you cut off the parts he was ogling or the ones they liked the most about themselves? Which other women should you go after Wriothesley, if all of this is true? Did he actually prefer common women? Or perhaps... Older, more refined or mature women like your mother?
How could he possibly look at other women when he gave you your first bout of joy, the same way you expected him to give you your first orgasm? If he never wanted you, why would he start all of this?!
But was he looking at other women? During events, you could have sworn that that wasn't true. But what was true anymore? Why wasn't he telling you what was going on? What was going on, why were you the one left in the dark by both him and everyone else about your own future?
Your pained groan ended in its middle when you heard a bark. There was no dog in this room. You looked up to see Frosty on your desk. Unlike the usual, his tail wasn't wagging and he pined once you noticed him. A sad, pitiful pine that expressed you in your current entirety.
"What the- What are you here for? I didn't send Wriothesley anything, do you have something? Wait-".
The window was wide open. Frosty had something in his 'backpack' (did it have the same name for messenger dogs?), but the paper in question was much smaller than the usual letters he sent. The ink looked stronger, too. You opened it. The format of the contents was also starling:
'Y/N
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE FOLLOW THE PUP. I CAN'T STAND THIS.
I LOVE YOU, SO PLEASE COMPLY,
WRIOTHESLEY'
"Where to, then?".
Frosty jumped out of the window onto the ledge. Did he want you to climb? Would this be worth it??
You crawled out of the window frame, thankful that your manor's roofs were easy to climb. Most of them had stairs, and there were odd bricks you could stand on for a bit. You hoped they wouldn't renovate it anytime soon.
Frosty led you up to the highest roof, also a good spot for stargazing. You had to give it to him, being so familiar with the house. You sat down but did not wait for longer than a minute. A black gloved hand grasped the ledge, and up came Wriothesley, panting and sweating as if he had a nightmare. His expression only relaxed when it landed on you.
"My Y/N...".
You stood up and waited for him to be next to you, so he wouldn't fall off. Before he could hug you, your hand finally gathered enough force to do what you thought of for hours.
SLAP!
He fell on the bricks, holding his cheek. He looked up to you in the same pitiful, sad way Frosty looked at you. The pup pined at the sight, akin to a child seeing its parents fight.
"Y/N, please...".
You wanted to scream at him. Ask for the bitch's name, whether he liked her tits or face more, what did she have that you didn't, and how dare he prove your family's stance correct. You wanted to ask him whether he even wanted to marry you. If he didn't want to anymore, to just back off and let you go on your rampage and soil your dress with blood. Take his vision and freeze him with his own powers. Whether he saw you as a young, naive maiden and whether that made you a more fun conquest.
Instead, you turned your back to him. You sobbed as quietly as you could. And that was more scalding to Wriothesley than any of the aforementioned violent actions.
"Y/N, I need...".
He stopped and let out a guttural cry you'd only hear in emergency wards. He was hunched over again. You looked back. Was he acting, just like Archandelle?
"I need you to talk to me, my love..."
"Why are you acting as if you were in pain? I'm the one who's being fucked over.".
"Y/N, what's happening? Who hurt... hurt you? Who d-do you need me to kill?".
He had this pained look all along your interaction. He couldn't have known that you were angry at him; You didn't write to him about it, nor have you seen each other.
"What do you mean?".
"Someone hurt you. Badly. Tell me who it is. Talk to me. Give me a name to end.".
You crouched down and noticed that he was clutching the right side of his chest. His fingers were red and something was lodged in the glove. You snatched his hand to take it out. It was a pill you knew too well. You had more than a few acquaintances - all older men - who took it as the last pillar to stay alive.
Heart medicine.
"Did you get addicted to medicine while I wasn't looking?! Why are your fingers red? WHY AREN'T YOU TELLING ME ANYTHING?!? What's happening to you??".
"You... still don't know? About the bracelet?".
You looked at the wolf crest bracelet he gave you. His marking, right in front of your parents. You reached the point where you always wore it on your person, even if not on your wrist.
"What about that?".
"Flip the wolf over...".
You flipped the emblem to find the upside-down wolf, its eye glaring carmine red. Wriothesley turned the emblem on his heart, the usual blue glow replaced by that same hue.
"What the- What is that?"
"Did you forget? Maybe that's why you're in this state. Among...".
He stopped to take deep breaths as if trying to alleviate his pain. His hair was dishevelled and he was soaked in sweat. His eyes were quivered down on his matted head Even his clothes looked rumpled, and his tie done in haste. Wriothesley was always the one who sent other people to the state he was currently in. Now, something was horribly wrong.
Despite your wishes, your own heart hurt looking at him. As he breathed, you wiped the sweat off his forehead. He stopped you at the third swipe, taking your hand and kissing it.
"Among my first vows to you, I said that your pain would be mine, and my heart was yours.".
Among your false and true memories, the ones he mentioned sprung out. Your emblems' glow reduced by a little, although this sickly shade of red was on his face, both within his flesh and the glow.
"I don't understand, Wriothesley.".
"The bracelet. It transmits your pain to my heart. Sometimes I feel it a bit, but I assume that it's because of... Of your current life. And I say: 'It's okay. I'll bust her out of there soon.'. But tonight... It's like you exploded. Something way more horrible than usual has happened. Someone, maybe. I want you to talk to me. I told you before, as husband and wife, we need to communicate habitually.".
"Wriothesley, why your heart? What if you got a heart attack? What if you died? What about me and you?!".
You couldn't help the fresh wave of tears. Gosh, you hated how sentimental you were. You wanted to hate him, but how could you when he bowed to you, his own heart failing because of your state and still making it a priority to hold and kiss your hand? He linked his heart to you, for Focalors' sake! By official guidelines, this is harmful magic, 'not to be used under any circumstance' for a good reason.
"I told you, my heart is yours. Ever since my eyes landed on you, it always has been, just as your pain is mine. And if someday, you're so upset to the point where I risk death, then I would have deserved it for being a bad spouse.".
You threw your arms around him, your eyes hurting from how much you've cried. He did not hesitate in holding you back. If you concentrated, you could feel his heartbeat, regularizing but still way too fast. You didn't want to imagine what a mess it was before he came here.
"Y/N, do you want to regulate my heartbeat? That is your choice.".
"You fucking idiot! Of c-course I do!".
"Talk to me.".
You let go of him, trying to settle down so you could talk. His ears perked up the slightest bit to listen to you, the first time in this interaction. This was good.
"...D-do you love me? Enough to want to marry me?".
Up to the sky the same ears shot, along with his eyebrows.
"What? I do, more than anything I've ever desired! Did someone make you doubt that? Who is it?".
"Wrio... Why is this taking so long? I'm getting married soon. This will be much harder once that happens. I don't want it to happen. Oh, Wriothesley, today sucked, I even got in a fight with Agatha...".
Once you mentioned her name, a barrage of your last month and beyond started. You didn't stop after recounting the fight; There were the times your parents scolded you for having a curl out of place when Archandelle was coming over. Your brother trying to console you with your 'marriage'. Staying at home for days at a time. Memorizing every nook and cranny of the manor. Having to live like a thief, from hiding your love to your late-night tea. How you feared returning to the same state you were in, years right until you met him.
One good thing happened with this. The more you talked, the dimmer the red glow became.
"... Wriothesley, I feel like any woman with some noble connection is cursed. My mother married a man she didn't love. Agatha's husband abused her and she had to pay a lot to get divorced. My grandmother even loathed her husband, but everyone married her off because he'd 'discipline' her. And I have to follow this tradition of unhappy women, but I don't want to. It feels like I have no one to talk to. I feel alone. I hate it...".
You stopped and took a breath, wondering where all this revelation was coming from. You never opened up to Agatha with this much detail and intensity. This must have been waiting for years to get out. Why did your mind pick him, of all people? Was it because you just so happened to be messy at that moment?
Wriothesley held your hand again. His eyes did not fully dry from a few tears that threatened to come out at some point in your talk.
"Wrio, are you okay? Do you want a cup of tea? Did I talk too much? I'm sorry...".
"No, don't apologize Y/N. For once, my heart feels better because you let it out. Archons, I'm so proud of you for talking...".
"No one else would have been.".
"Well, everyone else is a cruel idiot. Everyone else told you to bottle it up, but you still went against them and told me everything.".
"If I am honest with you, can you be honest with me about a few things?".
For the first time in what felt like forever, he smiled. A small, sincere smile that took even more weight off of you. To you, there was nothing more beautiful, because nothing invoked as many happy memories as that curl of the lips. It was like that darned chocolate cupcake that you both reached your coming-of-age social. Part of you teasingly reminded you of your favorite new pastry, which hasn't changed since your first meeting.
"Without a doubt.".
"Is there another woman you love?".
The smile broke and he looked offended.
"So long as a woman is not named 'Y/N Balthazar', and becomes 'Y/N, Duchess of Meropide', then I couldn't care less about her.".
You tried to repress the blush; It was still too early for this.
"Is there nothing in me that you don't like? Anything that would repel you away from me?".
"In the Fontainian foster system, your father, Archandelle, Teyvat and the world, yes. Lots. In you, no.".
Your legs felt sore, so you lied down. He followed suit, by your side.
"Speaking of Archandelle, is anything happening to him or am I doomed?".
"You will not be doomed under my watch. I'm going to answer this question but first...".
He got up, steadier on his legs than he was. He cocked his head to the side, ushering you to follow him. Once you guys reached the topmost ledge of the roof (your favorite, because it loomed over the City), he handed you an item so familiar and loved, yet unseen for a long time: A wind glider.
"I was thinking of something fun to do, and your manor has some great altitude...".
"I haven't used one in ages! I forgot!".
He chuckled: "You've used it before, that's enough to know. Just trust the skies, my dear.".
He grabbed his own and jumped off, but did not fall. The wings deployed immediately, and his limbs relaxed once they spread out. His first landing spot was easy to reach. It was a lower part of your roof.
"Here! This should be a good start. Now jump!".
Sounding more panicked than you liked to admit (and risking your time), you yelled: "You didn't explain anything!! How did you get the wings? How do you- Why are you laughing at me?!".
He didn't want to make you feel insecure, but he couldn't help his laughter. You were like an adorable, helpless child, relying on him to give you the answers.
"You just have to jump, Y/N! Why would I try to get you to break an arm, huh? Just trust me on this!".
You worked hard to recount the few times you got to use a wind glider. What a horrible time becoming a pre-teen was; You were barred of so many wonderful activities, all for the sake of spending your next years securing a husband. What joy did that bring you? No, the real happiness was when you kicked your feet off the high point, spread your arms out, and floated. You were above the manor's walls, the parlor, the court's and Fontaine. It was like being a part of Teyvat itself. It was freeing.
After these long, monochrome years, your body flew again. Your heart with Wriothesley and your form into the sky, softly landing in front of him, on your feet. He smiled widely, his full and societally hated canines on show. Here was a man at least twice your size, smiling like a school boy before he knew of misery.
"You're great at this! Once we marry, you should consider competing in gliding. You'd definitely win a few medals!".
"Hey, you're the one who encouraged me. Let's pick a lower spot.".
And there was another, and another until you were far from your house's roof. It's okay, you were coming back anyway. You always came back, but he was your only betting chip for the opposite. You either had to put your hope on him, or have none at all.
During your last flight, you deactivated your wings and let yourself fall. You knew you could, you knew you wouldn't die. He caught you in his arms, carrying you by the waist.
"Hey... What was that for, my love?".
"I just wanted to skip to this part.".
Tired, you both lay down, with him encircling his arms around you. He put his head on top of your chest. His heartbeat grew slow and regular - He was safe. You were safe. While it was true that safety was but a wisp in your world, you had to cling to it while it lasted. It was the only way you'd pave a life where you could scratch his fluffy ears as slowly as you pleased, grateful to your younger self who took this risk and leave everything she knew behind.
"I didn't tell you about tomorrow yet.".
The wind gliding made you forget! You looked down at his icy eyes and heard him out.
"They're squeezing a confession out of him. I know, because I made sure 'his' cops wouldn't be at the investigation. From there on, it's free ground for him to go to prison.".
"He still has to be tried, though, no?".
"Yes, but it will only be a question of a lifetime sentence with fellow prisoners or in isolation. I feel like I don't have to ask if you're ready for the Pandora's box it will open...".
He tightened his hold. You knew what box he meant: Noble crime is pretty interconnected. It's common for nobles to see out their own class when committing something that a commoner could not get away with. Archandelle's trial and arrest would also mean that many others; lives would be ruined... Including your own father. It was amazing how they knew each other for such little time, and yet they already had several illegal connections.
"You're right. You don't have to ask. I'm looking forward to that trial.".
"So am I, Y/N. I'll be sure to kiss you in front of them after they're convicted. Maybe slobber up and show them too.".
"Eeeeewwww!".
The idea of a (publicly) slobbering Wriothesley was so uncharacteristic, but so funny.
"It's so I can spit on them! Do you think I should add more tongue for the extra scandal?".
"Honestly, just holding hands would be enough for that!".
"But I'm going all the way!".
"You're such a-!!".
What he was, you couldn't think of. Even your laughter quieted at the sight right under your chin: A fondly smiling Wriothesley, with growingly beet-red cheeks and twitching ears. You often theorized that despite him physically being a grown man with an impressive size, there was a boy who just sought out his own happiness, including that with the ones he loves. Just like you.
He leaned his head to give your jaw a long kiss, before whispering in your ear: "You are worth losing everything I've ever desired.".
"Eh?".
"Though I've remained faithful to my goal, I feel like I haven't been taking the right approach.".
He cozied up against your chest again.
"What do you mean, Wrio?".
"Well... When I first declared that I wanted you, I tried asking your father. Do you remember that?".
"How could I forget?".
"And while it's true that I was digging up dirt on Archandelle, I still tried to go the tried-and-true way. Discover some horrible crime, snitch to the Court, sue and let them punish him...".
"Yes?".
You weren't sure where he was going. You looked down to see him gazing at the moon.
"Maybe I shouldn't have. Maybe I should have just showed up to this door and gutted his fetid body. Maybe I should have killed him during the parties.".
Deep down, you knew you wouldn't have an issue with that. In fact, you might even cheer. Why didn't he do it from the start, then? You felt like you had the partial answer in your hand, scratching it just the way he enjoyed.
He chuckled: "You really like my ears, huh?".
"Speaking of which... Is that partly why you didn't start with the violent approach? Because people are already shitty enough to lycanthropes?".
"Smart. I still remember my shock when you told me you liked lycanthrope authors. It was the first time anyone considered my kin to be something good. But there's another reason. A bigger one.".
You couldn't help but jolt up. Bigger than life-ailing discrimination? As a hybrid and noble man, Wriothesley was already a one-in-a-million case, so it would make sense that he'd want to avoid keeping stereotypes.
He broke his gaze from the moon into yours. Maybe that was part of the reason why he loved you so obsessively: Because there was no getting used to your beauty, your voice, your mannerisms, your smarts and your tenderness towards him. He never liked surprises; Routine was a good way to regulate himself and stay on the down low. Surprise was never a pleasant thing for him from his foster parents to the Beret society. But you? You always caught him off guard in some way, possibly without meaning it. You held gleeful surprise and pleasure and the joys he was constantly told about in the orphanage, but never found until he found you.
The shining look of your (eye color) orbs made him take the vow: He was never going to be passive when it came to you again.
"When I first met you, I had no way of knowing whether you would be okay with that drastic measure. Whether... You were just like me. Whether you, too, spent your life seeking out empty promises. Had you been like most people, jumping to violence would be a sure-fire way for you to hate me. Oh, how could I live being hated by you, Y/N? After everything I've been through, it would definitely break me.".
"Wriothesley...".
"The night we met, I played it passively in hopes of not scaring you away, and keeping my own status. Yes, I still get judged, but it's nowhere near as bad as what I've had before. I thought I would be better off not risking what I gained, and acting normal to you. But when I got to know you more, and when I'm risking losing you... I realized what a mistake that was. I don't like what Agatha did tonight, but she was right on one account. I should have snatched you to myself from our first roof exchange.".
He breathed, as if he's been itching to say this all along. When you first laid down, your head was above his. Now he loomed over you again, as well as his body, in a position that you could associate with a soft bed and your first night post-marriage.
Once he dipped down and kissed you, it was your turn to have an irregular heartbeat.
The world felt most beautiful when you two closed the distance between your bodies. They were like two pieces of a puzzle: Molded for each other. His hand slowly ran beyond your knee and on your thigh, the other behind your back. Your arms had to stretch to go around his wide shoulders, but it also made you feel safe; He would protect you from anything, including the imposed fate you feared.
That same hand grew higher, and higher, but stopped right before your inner thigh. He broke apart to ask: "May I? I'll stop whenever you want to.".
You raised your leg, as if trying to get him closer: "Yes...".
Was it just him, or was that more of a moan than a word? Could you even speak in this state? And why did you have to rile him up like this?
He kissed you again, his hand squeezing at the soft meat, then running over your hip. It's not that you were as sheltered as your parents would have liked, but this was your first time being touched like this. It was as if he was awakening nerves you didn't know existed. You didn't feel this sensitive when masturbating.
Getting tired of your thigh, he laced his fingers between your hip and your panties, before sliding them off. Even from there, he picked up on where most of the heat was coming from, and it wasn't your dress' fancy fabric.
He raised himself to lift your skirt up. There was your slit, coated in its own lubrication, and your legs shaking ever so slightly. He hadn't even started and you were already mewling and getting excited, your body already anticipating the orgasm. He couldn't help cooing.
"I can't wait until I make you cum."
You whined, tired of him making you wait, then wrapped an arm around him.
He ran his fingers up and down your vulva, coating them with your juices, before circling around your clit. The sensation made you squeal out. You heard it had thousands of nerves, but what was that?! It was not a cold night, but your entire body was shaking as if you were freezing.
"Ssshhh... We have to be discreet. Do you like this, sweetheart?".
"More... More, please!".
He was not expecting this vocality, but he wasn't complaining. He dipped down to leave little kisses on your collarbone and neck, while he played with your sensitive clitoris. He occasionally gave it a break, running his fingers in circles around your womanhood, flaring up whatever nerves he could find, before rubbing your nub again.
The lovely thing about neck kisses was that you could not avoid his husky-voiced whispers: "I bet he won't make you feel the way I do right now.".
His fingers slipped down to your hole, still circling around it before he would slip in.
"This lovely body and its tremors aren't his, are they?".
"N-no! I swear, they're not!".
He stopped touching you. Don't get him wrong, he loved you, but you were too cute writhing for him to not take advantage of it. He could not wait until he had you all to himself. He might even make you cry from all the pleasure he'd give you. Until then, he had to relish the limited moment he had.
"Sorry, my love, but you haven't convinced me.".
Once frigid and closed, your legs opened up even more: "Wriothesley, please!! You said it, he'll die before he even gets to see me naked, let alone touch me!".
"Oh? So you're trusting that I will take you?".
As he asked, he leaned in close, only a few inches away from kissing you. His hand was creeping back up where you wanted it.
"Yes... I'm yours, I've always been...".
His digits entered your hole. He didn't even have to look for the spot; a few rubs and you had to stop yourself from squealing. You could not stay quiet, not when you've never felt this, not when he was playing with every pleasurable nerve in your body. You were already clenching erratically around him. The more you did, the closer you were...
"Wait! Wait, I-!"
He kissed your neck again: "Let it out, baby.".
You couldn't help it. You screamed. At least you were far from your house, and it was a good type of scream. The type you felt he'd give you every night.
He helped you feel and ride out your entire orgasm, drawing out every bit of pleasure he could, while all you could do was moan out. Once you calmed down, he lowered his eyes to yours again.
"Are you alright?".
"That was amazing...".
"With the way you screamed, I sure hoped so.".
"Shut up.".
He laughed a bit, before kissing you again. This time, it was slower, softer. Tonight was eventful for both of you, after all. At some point, you two broke the kiss but remained in the same position. It was easy to hear his whisper when your foreheads were so close.
"If tomorrow doesn't work, I'll kill him before the ceremony.".
#a wolf and a snake#yandere wriothesley x reader#wriothesley x reader#yandere reader#genshin impact x reader#yandere genshin x reader#yandere fontaine x reader#genshin impact smut
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The relationship between Violet and her mother since she’s an angsty teen now I feel would just worsen a little when she found out she was having a little brother. They were probably so close when she was little. It was already a little rocky (what teen girl didn’t have a rough patch with their mom at that age. Ik I did) but the addition of a new baby just means less attention for her. She was probably too young to process it when Cecilia was born cause she was little but being a teen and the idea of having a new baby must be rough. Especially as the months pass on and her mom tries to bridge the gap between them before he’s born, only thankfully it was fixed after he entered the world :)
(Oh it be so sweet conversation though. I can only imagine the moment they finally talk it out.)
It's late at night. You can't fall back asleep after waking up for Scottie's 2am feeding and you're down in the living room, watching TV in the dark. Violet comes out of her room to get water and sees her mother awake on the couch. She just walks past with her water bottle not saying anything at all and grabs water from the fridge. Moving to go back to her room you finally say something.
"Not even gonna say hi?" Violet stops as she's about to step into the hallway, looking over her shoulder and nods.
"Hi..."
"You wanna sit with me for a few minutes?" Violet nods again, walking over and sitting at the other end of the couch. This is the farthest she's ever been from you in a long time. The air is thick and tense as you both watch whatever you have on.
"You okay?" Violet takes a sip of her water, nodding again, but she won't look at you.
The silence fills the room again, making the TV way too loud to you as you start thinking.
"This reminds me of when you were 3..." You smile, finally getting her attention to look at you.
"You got so mad at your father for giving me kisses first before you when he got back from a work trip and you refused to talk to him for 2 hours."
"I don't remember that." She moves closer, curling up into your side. You put your arm around her and kiss the top of her head. Smelling her lavender scent with an even bigger smile.
"Of course you don't, you were too little... Are you mad at me?" Violet tenses up under your touch. You look down lifting her face up, her eyes meeting yours. Slightly damp.
"Not mad just... Left out." The realization hits you. Ever since the baby was born you'd been so preoccupied making sure Cecilia knew you still loved her and take care of Scott... You forgot that your oldest still needed reassurance, even at her age.
"Aw, sweet pea... I'm sorry." You hug her tightly, rubbing her back as she hugs you for dear life.
"It's okay."
"No it's not. You deserve time with me... I know you sure as hell need a break from your father... He's so far up your ass he could tell you what your insides look like." She chuckles, smiling for the first time in a while as you kiss her forehead.
"Can we spend time together?"
"Of course honey! If you want to spend time with me or ever just need me we please tell me. I grew up with grandma and I'm thankful for her but she smothered me... So I thought giving you space was the right idea. I guess I gave you too much."
You sit back, continuing to rub her back as she relaxes into your side, thinking about anything and everything you could do together.
"Okay... How about instead of you doing daddy daughter day with your sister you come out with me? You always look so miserable when you come home from those."
"Ah... We always do such... Kiddie stuff. It's boring but I just can't tell Dad."
"Well, we can do more adult stuff together... Like, get a Mani Pedi... Go shopping, eat and maybe a movie? Would you like that?"
"I'd like that a lot actually... Thanks."
"Of course baby. Anything for you." You hug her tight again, squeezing her to you as she groans.
"Mommy please, I can't breathe." You let her go, smiling and holding her at arms length.
"Did you just call me Mommy?!" She looks embarrassed for a moment.
"Felt right... Just don't tell Dad or neither of us will hear the end of it."
#leon kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x fem reader#🌿 ivy replies#🌿 ivy writes#leon s kennedy#resident evil x reader#🏡 domestic life with leon kennedy
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A Slice Of Life (Waitress AU) part 6
Doctor!Steve Harrington x Waitress!Reader
<- Previous part
Word Count:2,208
*dividers by @saradika-graphics
Masterlist // Steve Harrington Masterlist
“Steve, what on earth are you doing here?” you whisper-shout as you round his table.
“I heard this was a great place to get some pie.” he says with a smile. “Plus I came to see you, I can’t stop thinking about you, Y/N”
“You can’t be visiting me at work like this, doesn’t this go against our keeping things low-profile agreement.”
“I don’t care about that, I know how I feel about you, and I’m not ashamed of that. I like you a lot, Y/N, and sometimes I think you think like me too, and I want to be the one to make you happy.” he says sincerely.
“It’s not that simple, Steve. Yes I like you, of course I do, but all of it doesn’t matter when I’ve got Billy breathing down my neck and watching my every move. He’d wring my neck if he even saw us talking together right now.”
“I know this whole situation is completely crazy, and not ideal, and hell, I’ve only known you a few short months, but you’ve worked your way into my heart.”
“Steve..”
“I’ll wait for you, however long that may be, I’ll wait for you. You’re worth waiting for.”
You fight against the tears welling up in your eyes at how patiently sweet and loving that this man was to you, your heart pounding against your chest.
You wipe your tears with the back of your hand quickly, turning away, before turning to Robin on your way.
“Uh, Rob, can you serve table 7 for me please, I need to run to the back for something.”
“Sure, is everything okay?” she asks, laying a reassuring hand on your shoulder.
“I’m fine, honest I am, thanks” and with that you were rushing to the bathroom, slamming the door behind you with a shaky breath and tears bubbling in your eyes.
Why was nothing simple?
You dry your eyes, and pull yourself together in the bathroom mirror enough to go back out into the diner, and when you look out you find the seat in which Steve was sitting bare. Robin tidying away after him.
“Hey, Y/n, that customer I just served, he sure did leave a generous tip.” she smiled as she wiped down the table with a cloth.
“That’s-uh- that’s really good, Rob, you deserve it.”
The day had felt long and tiring as you sit down with a sigh next to Nancy on the bench outside the diner.
“You waiting on Billy to pick you up?”
“Yeah” you say quietly.
There’s a beat of silence between you two before Nancy speaks again.
“You know, you’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for. That’s the thing that I have always admired about you, you come into work every day with a bright smile on your face, even though that terrible man is waiting for you at home.”
“I guess being here, making pies and making people happy with the pies that I make is the only time I get to escape from being Billy’s wife. We were so young we got together, and I was too dumb to realise that being Mrs. Hargrove wasn’t all that I thought it was going to be. I've been with him for so long that somewhere down the line I forgot what it was like to just be myself.” you huff, wringing your hands together in your lap. “Not Billy’s wife, not Mrs. Hargrove, just Y/n.”
“Well, you know what? Just Y/N happens to be one of my best friends, and I’m so glad that I get to exist in a world with you in it.” she smiles. “And I’m sure as hell this baby is going to have one of the best mothers that they could ever want for.”
Just as you were settling into the warmth of Nancy’s kind words you’re brought out of it by the blaring horn coming from Billy’s car as it cruised to a stop in front of you.
“Alright, well I’ll see you on Friday Nance, I love you.” you give her a final hug before getting up.
“I love you too darling, take care of yourself.”
You close your eyes as best you can, desperately trying to fall asleep and ignore Billy’s presence in the bed beside you, but that proved to be an impossibility as his form leered over your shoulder, placing a trail of kisses to your shoulder.
“Babe, I know you’re awake, why don’t you come a little closer and treat me how a good wife treats her husband, huh?” He says in that way he does when he’s trying to get what he wants from you. It makes your skin crawl.
“I don’t feel like it.” you mutter, burying yourself deeper under the covers of the duvet in the hopes that somehow the world would just disappear around you.
“What makes you think you have that option, hmm?” his hand traces up your arm, and it’s all you can do to close your eyes as he leans close, his voice in your ear. “I feed you, I pay for the roof over our heads, I put clothes on your back, c’mon all you gotta do is reach behind and give me a little hand-job or something? I ain’t askin’ for the world, sweetcheeks,”
“Billy, please, I’m really tired. I just want to sleep.”
“Fine, if you’re not going to look after me, I guess I’m just going to have to take matters into my own hands.” he grumbles, before getting out of bed and making his way to the bathroom. “I’m gonna go have a shower and jerk off since you wanna be a bitch about it.”
The bathroom door closes behind him and you suddenly let go of a breath that you didn’t even know you were holding on to. A relief washes over you, finally a chance at peace. You snuggle down into the sheets, laying a protective hand settling around your growing bump.
Dear Baby, I hope someday someone wants to hold you for twenty minutes straight, and that’s all they do. Without any expectations, hope or agenda, and they don’t pull away. All they do is wrap you up in their arms and hold on to you tight without an ounce of selfishness to it.
Steve had texted you, apologising for showing up to the diner unannounced, asking you for the chance to make it up to you. You told him that it was fine, that his apology wasn’t necessary but he still insisted so, you told him to come to your house at 8.00 am sharp, but to stay behind the cover of the trees on the opposite street, watching out for Billy as he took off for work for the day.
Pregnant, affair with your doctor, lying to your husband pie. Chopped walnuts and pecans, lumpy oatmeal with raisins instead of chocolate chips thrown in for good measure, flambé, of course..
At 8 am sharp there’s a knock on your door, and you can’t help the excited buzz you feel settling its place in your heart. You pad your way towards your front door, waddling slightly as you walk, the past few weeks in your pregnancy had suddenly made the easy, everyday things very difficult and tiresome. Your belly was now rounding out in front of you very prominently, there was certainly no hiding the fact that you were pregnant now.
“Hey, I just wanted to apologise for upsetting you last week, I didn’t mean to just show up to the diner unannounced like that, but I was driving past and before I knew it I was pulling up just to come and see you.”
He’s dressed in a simple and soft navy henley shirt, and pair of light-wash denim jeans, his hair flounces in a perfectly messy style that on anyone else would have looked unkempt, but he carries it off so effortlessly. As you bring him in for a hug, his warm and woodsy scent fills your senses, wishing he would hold you for just a bit longer, if only to be surrounded in his welcoming warmth.
“That’s really sweet of you, Steve. Why don’t you come in?” you say, standing back and opening the door for him to come through. “Billy’s gone for the day, and I’m off work, so I was going to spend my day trial-running a couple of new pie flavours, you wanna join me?”
“I would love nothing more.” he smiles in that glorious way that he always does, pink lips curving into rose-tinted cheeks.
You set out all your ingredients and mixing bowls on the kitchen’s work table, before reaching for your apron that hangs on the hook of the kitchen’s door.
“Here, let me.” Steve says as he takes the apron from your hands, and pulls it over your head. The material clinging to your belly. “Turn around for me.” and as you turn around, you feel his strong hands tying off the strings of the apron in a neat little bow at your back.
You bring out the pastry you had already made from the fridge before handing it over to Steve.
“Here, do me a favour, sprinkle some flour down and roll this out for me please.”
He does as you ask, dusting the worktop in flour before placing down the pastry and rolling the rolling pin over it.
“How’s this?” he smiles looking at you from over his shoulder where you are mixing together the filling for the pie on the stovetop. A slowly stewing mixture of pink rhubarb, green apples and red cherries, bubbling together in a sugary sweet-syrupy mixture.
“Looks good, now all we’ve got to is blind bake the pie shell for a couple of minutes whilst this comes together.”
“Mmhmm” he hums gently, the pie shell in its tin ready to go, left out on the worktop for a moment as he turns his attention to you, brushing your hair away from your neck as gently kisses your soft skin.
“Y’know, it was my mom who taught me how to bake a pie. I would sit on the kitchen counters every time and just watch her as she worked. She was always so happy in what she was doing, not once did I ever see her in the kitchen without a smile on her face. She’d come up with all these different flavours and combinations and it was delicious every single time. She’d always tell me that the secret ingredient was love, and I don’t know if I ever fully believed her until I started baking for myself. She’d always give the pies the strangest names too, like ‘Bed-Time Story pie’ or ‘Summer Vacation pie’, my favourite one was ‘Pretty Baby pie’, she told me that that was the pie she made when she found out she was pregnant with me.”
“And what’s this one called?” he asks, nodding towards the mixture of fruit bubbling away on the stove.
“Well let’s just call it, hidden lover’s pie” you smile, turning the stovetop off and turning to look at him and as he looks back at you he cups your face in his hands and kisses your lips so sweetly. Pulling back from your lips he smiles at you so warmly.
“You're so beautiful.”
“I’m fat.” you laugh softly, resting a hand on your baby bump.
“You’re pregnant, there’s nothing in the world more beautiful than that.”
“Well I sure as hell don’t feel beautiful. I’m tired and cranky, totally not prepared and have no idea what I’m even doing. Just thinking about having this baby makes me scared as hell. I don’t know how to be a mother.”
“Nobody knows what they’re doing the first time they have a baby. I mean, my friend, Eddie and his wife had a baby not too long ago, and that man was the most nervous, terrified, panicked father-to-be that I had ever seen, but as soon as I delivered that little baby girl and he got to hold her in his arms for the first time? It was like a switch flipped in his brain and it all suddenly clicked into place.”
“You delivered her?”
“Yeah, little Lydia Munson, I’m her god-father too. She’s a sweet kid, and her parents love her so much, she makes them very happy.”
You give a short hum as Steve takes your hands and pulls you close to his body, wrapping his arms around you in a safe, loving hug.
“..She makes them happy, just like being right here, with you in my arms, makes me happy.” he says, and with that he wastes no time in kissing his lips against yours once more, one hand tangled in your hair, the other hand is a steady presence on the curve your hip as he leans into you more to deepen the kiss.
You make me happy too, Steve, more than you could ever know.
You allow yourself this moment of quiet and blissful peace in Steve’s arms. A chance to let yourself just be taken as you are, not as Billy’s wife, not as the waitress from the diner, just as Y/N, nothing more, nothing less.
@keerygal @penguinsandpotterheads @mrsjellymunson @paybacksawitch @seatnights @ali-r3n @potatobeanpies
#Steve Harrington x reader#Steve Harrington x female Reader#Steve Harrington x reader series#Steve Harrington x female reader series#Steve Harrington fluff#Steve Harrington x reader fluff#steve harrington fanfiction
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TICK // 7.1 - personal jesus
Rating: mature (angst, language, sexual content)
Word Count: 1400
☾
Reach out, touch faith
Your own personal Jesus
Someone to hear your prayers
Someone who cares
☾
New Year's Eve 1983 - junior year
…the room was dark. You couldn't tell where you were. A house? A bedroom. A soft blanket underneath you, headlights of a distant car flashing from behind the curtains on the windows.
Though the lights were off and you didn't recognize the room, you were certain of a strong sense of safety. A comfort in the unfamiliarity. Was that the sound of a guitar playing softly? Maybe… somewhere in another room.
Suddenly, it wasn't car headlights illuminating the dim room anymore. Moonlight poured in through an open window, pale and lucid.
And a figure could be seen stepping towards you from the shadows. You still didn't feel fear. You felt bare and vulnerable, but anticipation took over your senses.
Blurry flashes of silver rings and the smell of cologne… like everything else around you, how you knew the scent was on the tip of your tongue. You knew that smell from somewhere.
All of the things around you, the smell, the man, the sound of the music. Mysterious in your surreal subconscious. But it also felt like coming home, as natural as whispering the name of someone you loved.
"Hello?"
He stood in front of you, waiting. A hand reached up and touched your chin, silently asking for you to look up at him.
Gripping the blankets behind you, your gaze lifted towards the moonlight and was dazed by brown eyes, a shy smile.
Everything shifted, jolting you quickly. He wasn't standing in the beams of light anymore. No, he was on the bed with you. Underneath you.
The feeling of his hips between your legs and his hands sliding over your thighs raised goosebumps on your arms.
"Wake up…"
Leaning down, you kissed the man with the wandering hands and shining silver rings. No question about it - in your dreamlike state, you knew this was the only thing you wanted. An instinct.
You grasped for his belt buckle, still kissing him feverishly, lifting his shirt to access his jeans...
"Hey! Wake the fuck up!"
The transition from a deep, sensual sleep to the embarrassing reality of your bedroom dropped onto you like a bucket of cold water.
Sun poured in through the windows, much like the moonlight in your dream. And, of course, there was no man in your bed. Only the lovely Robin Buckley standing in your doorway, tapping it obnoxiously and looking at you expectantly.
"Hmm?" you mumbled, dragging the blanket over your head, still not quite awake.
"You looked like an actual corpse lying there. I had to make sure you didn't, like, die in your sleep or something."
You rubbed your sleepy eyes. "I might have just been in heaven."
"What?" Robin asked, nose wrinkling. She shook her head. "You know what? Nevermind. I don't think I want to know."
You sat up and squinted at the girl leaning on your door frame. "So why exactly did you wake me up? Besides to check my pulse?"
"You can't let go of your famous cranky morning attitude for one day? It's New Year's Eve, dingus!"
Oh, fuck. "I totally forgot what day it was. What are the plans, again?"
With the stealth of a ninja, Robin shut the bedroom door behind her so your parents couldn't eavesdrop.
"I thought we had a deal!" she whispered. "You've got plans with Nancy and Carol, right? I need you to tell mom that I'll be with you all night."
Yawning, you finally scrambled out of bed and over to your dresser. In your sock drawer, stuffed inside a rolled up pair of socks, was a crumpled bit of paper.
"Sure, no problem. But I'm not going with Nancy."
Robin snorted. "Should I even bother guessing who you're going to see tonight?"
Still cranky from waking up, you threw back your own prying question.
"Should I even bother guessing who you're going to see tonight?" you snapped, but instantly regretted the tone of your voice when you saw a flash of hurt in Robin's blue eyes.
"Look, Robbie, how about we make this easy? No matter where we both end up, let's tell them we were at Carol's with Nancy. Just meet me at our spot half past midnight, yeah?"
"Do you think this will actually work? We've never asked to go out on New Year's before."
Robin looked apprehensive, but you didn't miss the spark of adrenaline on her face.
You gripped the paper in your fist tighter. "No idea, but eventually they're going to have to realize that we aren't their prisoners and we can be friends with anyone we want."
☾
Feeling unknown
And you're all alone
Flesh and bone
By the telephone
Lift up the receiver
I'll make you a believer
☾
Eddie was almost out of his front door when he heard the phone ring, shrill and disarming.
He stopped in his tracks for a moment, listening carefully to his father picking up the phone in the living room. A few seconds of silence, then some mumbling.
"Ed! It's for you!"
The call he had been waiting for.
On the last day of school before winter break, the brown eyed boy meticulously scribbled his phone number on a piece of paper before stuffing it into your locker. After the passing of Christmas and almost a whole week, Eddie wasn't sure if you would ever call. Or if he had even put the paper in the right locker.
After the day you had skipped school together, he had been a little discouraged by the wall you suddenly built between them. You were avoiding him in the hallways again. A wall was always up with you, though, and Eddie could easily tell how private of a person you were.
But he truly thought you both made progress that day. Hot chocolate, driving his van around the old factory across town. Learning about each other and laughing at stupid shit. He figured those would be memories you could reminisce over, years down the line.
Or was he just being a hopeless romantic? This was real life, not the fantasy of a brave knight fighting for the affection of a particularly sullen princess.
Plus, c'mon, he was Eddie Munson. A freak. But who exactly were you?
"Hurry up and grab it! I ain't got all day, kid. Jeopardy is on."
Of course, his dad was already drinking and his patience was short, even on New Year's Eve of all days.
He ran quickly to the kitchen before his dad could hang up the call. Eddie almost dropped the phone in all of the commotion.
"Got it!" Making sure that asshole actually hung up the phone in the living room, Eddie Munson composed himself and spoke calmly into the receiver. "Hello, sunshine."
"How did you know it was me?"
Your deep voice, your golden honey voice. Sticky and sweet as it dripped onto his existence.
"Oh, you didn't know? I have psychic powers. If I focus enough, I could probably even tell you what you're wearing right now."
Eddie's tiny effort worked, and the laugh he elicited from you was like music to his ears.
"Joke's on you, Munson. I'm actually not wearing anything."
He could have choked on the room-temperature coffee he was sipping on. So much for composure.
"Perhaps my powers are failing me, then," he sighed dramatically. "Happy New Year's, by the way."
There was a pause on the other line. "Hmm, don't go saying that just yet. I was calling to maybe make plans with you tonight."
When the slightly stunned boy didn't answer right away, you continued.
"Unless you already have other plans? I know it's kind of late notice…"
"No, no," he replied quickly. "Well, I have some plans with Jeff and the guys, but not all night. I'm a little surprised to hear from you at all, to be honest."
"Yeah… I have… strict parents. They don't exactly approve of some of the people I hang out with."
Ah, Eddie thought to himself. Another piece of the confusing puzzle.
He leaned over to peek around the corner into the living room. His father was focused on the TV, chugging beer and letting out an occasional wet cough.
"Sunshine, I know all about difficult parents."
"Maybe we could talk about it tonight? Or have I scared you off?" As usual, your blunt, cocky statements sent shivers down his spine.
"Freaks don't get scared, Buckley!" he chuckled, "I know a good place to watch the fireworks at midnight. Just let me know the time and place to pick you up."
☾
Your own personal Jesus
Someone to hear your prayers
Someone who cares
Your own personal Jesus
Someone to hear your prayers
Someone who's there
☾
(song lyrics credit: "Personal Jesus" by Depeche Mode)
TAGLIST for this series if you would like to be notified when I post new chapters!
taglist: @siriuslysmoking @ishouldclean @emesis-nemisis
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie x fem!reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddiemunson#eddie munson x female reader#stranger things#eddie munson slow burn#eddie x you#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x buckley!reader
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A/N: This took me longer than I wanted it to but it's finally done! That means there's only one fic left to finish before I open up requests again. :•) Enjoy!
Premise: Depressed!GN!Reader finds out they're not as worthless as they think they are.
Warnings: None! Pure fluff.
You scribbled on the corner of the page to test your ink pen.
I have to vacuum the floor again soon. Dishes need to be done again today. I don't know what I want to make for dinner. More chores need to be done tomorrow. Is it even worth it anymore?
You pause. Every entry from the start of this week looked exactly the same. Flipping through the pages you notice that the beginning entries aren't much different either. Seems like every day has turned monotonous and bleak for you for a long time now. When you really think about it, when was the last time you were truly happy to wake up in the morning? Nothing came to mind.
The amount of hopelessness that filled your mind, body and soul was immense.
"Good morning!" Sloan sets down a coffee mug with a cat meme on it for you. Their smile had genuine happiness behind it– not something you could relate to.
"Good morning." You mimic their smile and watch as they take a seat next to you.
You're not sure how they could be so happy to wake up to the same burden every day of their life. Surely they must of thought you were baggage at this point. You were just waiting for the day they got tired of your presence and finally packed up and left. Everyone did. It was only a matter of time for them, too.
You bookmark the current page of your journal and close its cover.
"Don't forget your medicine!" They set your pill case next to your cat meme mug.
"Thanks."
They give you a kiss on the cheek.
You want to cry. Instead, you just watch as they take a seat next to you at the dining table for breakfast.
"Not hungry?" They ask.
They fork small bites of waffle into their mouth.
"I already ate." You lied.
"Oh? What did you have? I didn't hear you making anything."
You knew they were worried about you, but your brain didn't accept this.
"Just toast."
They're quiet for a moment. "Just toast?" They repeat.
"With jam. I'm not completely tasteless." You halfheartedly joke.
In order to dodge more conversation you open your pill case and down everything on an empty stomach.
"You have therapy today, right?" It feels they're playing a game of Twenty Questions.
"Yeah. I can make it there on my own, though."
"Well, I don't have anything to do right now. Why not let me take you?"
Right. You forgot. You were used to them being gone for weeks on end because of field work, studying or traveling. They took a couple weeks off to spend time with you. It seemed to be happening increasingly often as of late.
"It's alright, really. I don't want to bother you with it." You insist.
"It's not a bother! I promise!"
They're smiling again. It's hard to say no to that face.
"Alright."
...
Your therapist gives you back your journal after reading the last few entries. Nearly fifty minutes had already gone by and you don't feel like you've gotten everything off your chest yet.
"So, you feel like nothings gotten any better then?" They inquire.
"How are things supposed to get better at this rate?"
You collapse into the sofa and stare at the wall behind your doctor.
"I'm a burden. I can't do anything right. Everyone else already has everything figured out. What am I supposed to do? I'll never be good enough at anything."
Your therapist jots down everything you're saying before looking back up at you.
"If it's okay to ask... what do you want to be good at, exactly?"
You think about it. "Anything."
"Do you really think that's true, that you're not good at anything?"
You nod.
"You woke up this morning. You're breathing. You're very good at doing those two things. You're taking up space and existing. You're listening. You're feeling. You do these things without even thinking about them. Is that not a sign of skill?"
"That doesn't make me a worthwhile person, though." Tears start forming in your eyes and your therapist hands you the tissue box.
"You don't have to do anything well to be a worthwhile person. You exist, and that enough makes life worth living. If you want to learn more then you can, but knowing everything won't increase your value. You're valuable just by being here. Your worth as a human being is not determined by what you can or cannot do, or what you do or don't know."
Your therapist stays quiet as you sob into multiple tissues. It takes several minutes for you to calm down enough to continue your session.
"I still can't help but feel like a burden to everyone though." You still find it hard to speak after crying so much.
"Those who see you as a burden will never be worth your time. People who want to be around you will stay around you, even if they can't be present in your life at all times."
Rain begins gently tapping at the office window.
"... wouldn't it just be easier to shut everyone out, then?" You point out.
"Well, sure... but then you would never find out who truly loved you, or find others who are going to love you despite it all."
Another moment of silence passes between the two of you before the clock chimes in the distance.
"Same time next week I presume?" Your therapist fills out an appointment card for you.
"That sounds good."
...
You forgot your umbrella. The rain has already begun to pour.
Y/N: Alright. I'm ready.
💛lil meow meow💛: ᕕ( ՞ ᗜ ՞ )ᕗ
💛lil meow meow💛: ON MY WAY!!!
A car speeds by while you're waiting and splashes you from head to toe in puddle water. You're lucky enough that your phone case is water proof and that your journal is in your bag, otherwise everything would've been ruined.
Weird. You haven't thought about the positives in a long time.
You carefully wipe the droplets from your phone before another text message pops up.
💛lil meow meow💛: [Uploaded a photo at 3:56 PM].
It was a photo of you from behind.
💛lil meow meow💛: Omg? There's just a cutie pie standing outside? Do you think they're single?
You turn to look in the direction the photo was taken, then Sloan snaps another photo of you.
💛lil meow meow💛: OMG they noticed me!!!
💛lil meow meow💛: They're walking towards me!!!
You open the car door and the warmth hits your damp face.
"Wow. Now there's a cute person in my car! No way!" They grin and gesture over to you.
You can't help but smile.
"Sorry I wasn't fast enough to pick you up before the rain started..." They add.
They reach over to hold your hand and give it a comforting squeeze.
"It's okay. I can shower later." You reply.
You look out the passenger side window at the world covered in gray. The sooner you could get home, the better.
"So, how did it go?" They ask.
For a moment you replay the conversation with your therapist in your mind. You're not sure if you want to bring it up.
"Well..." You start to say, but you choke back the rest of the words.
Tears form in your eyes and you turn farther way from your beloved to hide them. You attempt to focus on the street lights passing you by instead.
"It was okay."
A brief silence passes between the two of you.
"You can be honest with me." There was a genuine concern for you in their voice that you were all too familiar with.
You bite your lip and think about your therapist again.
"Do you think I'm a burden?"
The question seems to come from no where for Sloan– but for you, it's all you've been wondering for a very long time.
"No! Of course not! Why would I ever think that about you?" They answer almost a little too defensively.
"Because you're smart, and you already have your life figured out– and I'm just a nobody, really..."
"No, you're not. Not to me."
You wipe the oncoming tears with your sleeves. The weight of the world comes baring down on your shoulders once again. Hot breaths escape between choking sighs and you can't stop yourself from sobbing all over again.
"I'm sorry–" That's all you could repeat, over and over again, like a broken record.
"[Y/N]..."
You can hardly hear them over the sound of your downfall.
The crisis seemed like it lasted forever to you. Everything you've been keeping bottled up for so long comes pouring out all at once without any warning. Even though your heart still hurts, you can feel it becoming lighter with every passing minute.
You can't form words. All you can do now is cry, cry, cry.
So cry, you did.
For minutes on end, tears flood out from underneath your swollen, bloodshot eyes. Your face was pink and pain pounded in your head from all the upset. It felt like forever until you were calm enough to form coherent sentences again.
"I'm sorry you had to see that." Once again you find yourself apologizing for things beyond your control.
"There's no need to say you're sorry. Let's just get inside so you can get out of those wet clothes."
You didn't even realize you had made it home already.
...
One mental breakdown, shower and ibuprofen later you felt like a brand new person.
In the same cat meme mug from this morning your beloved sets down some hot chocolate for you to help you cheer up.
"Do you want to talk about it?" They ask.
You can feel them wrap a blanket around you before sitting down and scooping you up into the warmest hug you've ever received. You close your eyes and melt into their affection while placing your head on their chest to listen to their heartbeat.
"I guess I just feel worthless most of the time." You admit.
"But why? You're not worthless to me. Not one bit." They comfort you the best they can.
You can feel Sloan place their hand on the back of your head and gently stroke your hair.
"I feel bad for taking time away from you. You have everything in your life figured out. I can't imagine why you still come around to visit me."
"Because I love you." There's a softness to their reply that makes your heart feel safe and secure. "I love spending time with you, so I take time off to visit you. If I didn't want anything to do with you I'd be gone already."
You think about their words for a minute and wish you had something equally as nice to reply with, but instead drowsiness begins to fog your mind.
You open your mouth to speak but a yawn escapes first.
"Rest, mi vida. Don't let those thoughts bother you anymore. I love you so much–" They place a kiss to your head. "– and I'll love you even more when you wake up."
They let you lay down and listen to their heartbeat for a little while longer.
"You mean the world to me. I don't care about anything else right now– just you. I'm here for you. Everything else can wait."
"Promise?" You nuzzle into their chest, ready to fall asleep at any moment.
"I promise. I'll write it on my tombstone." They reply.
"I'll hold you to that."
"You'll have to wait and see. I plan on spending the rest of my life with you, first."
For the first time in a long time you felt yourself genuinely smile.
#this took me rewatching my entire comfort game to finish oof#overwatch#overwatch 2#venture x reader#venture x you#overwatch fanfiction#overwatch x reader#overwatch x you#sloane cameron#sloan cameron
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Kunsel says:
We should maybe have a stricter definition of what counts as "hacking", okay?
It was a slow day at work, and he decided to guess people's email passwords in 10 attempts.
How does it go?
YESSSSSSSSS
Pro tips: make your password long, that is the most important factor. Use a password manager, most of them have a free option. Adding complexity does help, but focus on length first. Size does matter here. Multi-factor authentication (MFA) also helps a lot.
---------
Kunsel: Zack, gimme your password!
Zack: ...
Kunsel: Come on man, I need it for something!
Zack: 😭😭😭 buddy I would, but I forgot it again 😭😭😭😭😭😭
Kunsel: Ok man, it's ok, let's look around your desk...here, under this pile of chip bags, I think i saw...yeah, here's the penguin toy...and yep, Password Penguin has "Zack'ss00p3rp4ssw0rd!" written on the bottom. Let's try it!
(it works)
Zack: THANK YOU KUNSEL I THOUGHT I'D LOST HIM AND I COULDN'T REMEMBER AND-
Kunsel: *wheeze* Zack let go, I need to breathe *wheeze*
-----------
Kunsel tries to guess Roche's by typing it in.
M0t0rcycle!
ShinyDancer
Sh1n33D4nc3r!
He's in.
------------
Kunsel tries to guess Sephiroth's. On the 9th try, he gets it: Seph+Jenova4ever
Horrible things are uncovered along the way and now he needs to send Sephiroth some information very discreetly.
------------
Lazard. Kunsel knows better. He gives a few guesses, but decides to actually hack this.
He sets up a hash capturing tool over the internal network and waits for Lazard to log on. He does. Kunsel captures the hash and starts cracking it.
Three days later, the hash cracker has not worked and he has to give up on that.
Kunsel: Sir, I need to get into your email, will you please send me your password?
Lazard: Of course not, that is unsafe and against company policy. However, you're welcome to come to my office to perform any actions we both deem necessary.
Kunsel goes over and Lazard is using multifactor authentication, so just having the hash cracked wouldn't have worked anyway. He sets up a keylogger surreptitiously on Lazard's workstation while "performing updates" and showing Lazard new features in his email.
The things he captures with that keylogger:
* Numerous emails covering for boneheaded shit the SOLDIERs did.
* The letter "A" typed about a thousand times into a text file labeled "definitely not screams.txt".
* Moogle searches for "how to convince your employees to get therapy", "pasta recipes", "therapists near me", "child psychology for adults", "play therapy for adults", "cat psychology", and "shrimp pasta recipes".
* The password: &oh'ihiy_-8_gi"it"gi_ipkb0(-ur#3-@--LXS4ever--9(9;0(!08(098+pihjboigig(@ukopih
Then it is a simple matter of finding a zero-day race condition hack in the MFA software, timing things just right, and entering the password and hacked MFA key at the perfect moment.
Kunsel of course has pity on the man after seeing even more emails such as...
* Explaining to Roche that doing squats over his motorcycle makes it look like he's humping it, and it is making people uncomfortable.
* Asking Genesis to please not actually firaga the recruits this week, they don't need a lawsuit. No, it's not character building. No, even though it was part of his home training and Shinra sanctioned training a few years ago.
* Inviting Sephiroth over for shrimp pasta to discuss strategy.
* Asking Angeal to seek therapy so the others will follow his lead.
* Telling Zack that he could not have a therapy flamingo in the office. Even if it was a lawn ornament.
* Warning Hojo not to take Sephiroth this week.
* Warning Hollander not to take Genesis and Angeal this week.
* Reaming Heidegger out very politely for all his BS.
Kunsel logs out without doing anything. Lazard needs a break.
--------
Kunsel calls Angeal pretending to be the help desk. Angeal, a bit embarrassed over his upbringing and unsure because he feels unused to technology, eventually gives Kunsel the password: BanoraBoys123!
----------
Genesis' is guessed on the 7th try because Kunsel didn't want to bother typing in an entire stanza of Loveless with numbers instead of vowels.
1nf1n1t3_1n_myst3ry_1s_th3_g1ft_0f_th3_g0dd3ss__w3_s33k_1t_th7s_4nd_t4k3_t0_th3_sky_r1ppl3s...
He sends an email from Genesis inviting everyone to a Loveless recital on Tuesday. It backfires because several people, including Genesis, show up and have a great time.
-----------
Kunsel tries Zack's little trooper friend next. He's a tough nut to crack. He won't pick up his PHS to get vished, won't click on Kunsel's phishing emails, and won't tell Zack or Kunsel his password.
Kunsel captures his hash and cracks it. It takes a full 24 hours, but he gets it in the end:
!1986fuck_this_shit
#ff7#sephiroth#zack fair#cloud strife#genesis rhapsodos#angeal hewley#lazard deusericus#die hojo die#kunsel#hackerman kunsel
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Such A Cliché
A soulmate is a person's other half, so the pain that one feels is a pain shared with the other. However, when circumstances aren't quite agreeable, hurting your soulmate is what you end up doing anyway.
Word count: 6.2k
Warnings: getting burned, yn is an ass, yoohyeon is scared of you, sad jiu, hospitals
A/N: lmao should have been done when I told you guys about it but I wanted to add more but here you go! also please tell me if i made a mistake, i had asked a friend what is unnie in chinese because i thought it would be nicer since dongie is yn's younger sister here
☕buy me a coffee☕
Gahyeon is understandably the last to get out of bed by the time morning comes. She knows that Dong had checked in on her a while ago, but she was too sleepy to even try opening her eyes, and instead batted the older woman’s hand away, grumbling about another five minutes.
So when she finally does decide to get up and get ready, the maknae was confused to see her roommate fussing around the dorm, perfectly dressed like always. “Are you heading out, unnie?” She asked while taking a seat, welcoming the quick peck Siyeon pressed to her cheek as a good morning greeting.
The Chinese woman hummed, smiling as she grabbed her bag and then began to put her hair up into a messy bun. “I’m picking my sister up from the airport today. I thought I told you last night?”
She did. Gahyeon was just too sleepy to retain everything the older woman told her.
“I don’t know why you expect her to remember after just waking up.” Bora teases, also dressed up and ready to accompany the latter. Though her comment did earn a pout from the maknae as she glared at the dancer. “I remember! I’m just still half asleep.” She argues, earning a laugh from the woman next to her before Siyeon pulls her to a hug. “Oh, no need to be so grumpy.” She cooed and Minji finally exited her room in time to see the pair putting their shoes on.
“Oh, you’re leaving already?” She questioned, smiling when she saw the now awake maknae. “Remember to be careful, alright?” She reminds them and Bora grins while giving her a thumbs up. “Like I would let anything happen to my princess.” She says with a puff of her chest and Dong only rolled her eyes in good nature before taking her girlfriend’s hand and tugged. “Let’s go, I don’t want to have her wait too long.”
Bora allowed herself to be pulled out of the dorm, waving goodbye while Dong shouted a quick ‘be right back’.
Once the door closed behind the pair, Gahyeon turned to the leader with her brows pinched together. “I forgot that Y/n unnie was coming.” She suddenly said out loud and Siyeon chuckled while she sipped her coffee. “We figured.”
Still, Gahyeon couldn’t wipe the frown off her face as she sank further in Siyeon’s arms. “Is she going to stay here?” She mumbled and Minji sent her a sympathetic look. “I don’t think so. But Dongie wants us all to hang out.” She explains, making the maknae grimace. “Come on, I know that she isn’t too fond of us, but let’s do it for Dongie.” Siyeon coaxes her before Yubin and Yoohyeon finally come to join them in the main room.
“Dong unnie and Sua unnie already left?” Yubin noted and Minji hummed in confirmation. “I don’t know how Sua unnie is going to adjust, now that Y/n unnie is moving here.” Yoohyeon muttered before Minji gave her a meaningful look. “I know that we don’t get along with her too well, but who knows? Maybe getting to see her often now could help.”
“I hope so.”
..
“Is it obvious that I’m nervous?” Bora blurted out as she scanned the crowded building. She’s been to the airport numerous times and she’s not really antsy with having this many people around her. But it was the fact that she would be seeing you again that had her fidgeting in place.
Dong gave her hand a reassuring squeeze while smiling under her mask. “Relax, unnie. It’s just my sister.” That didn’t help the dancer’s nerves at all. “It’s your sister, the same one who does not like us, by the way.” She reminds and Dong resisted the urge to sigh, her smile slipping away as she looked away.
“She’s just… not adjusted yet. My parents are warming up to me being away and being an idol but Y/n, you have to understand that we were inseparable as kids.” She explained, causing Bora’s lips to purse when she felt the tension her girlfriend was feeling through their link.
She hated that she had to be put in the middle of it all.
You weren’t a bad person, you were just indifferent because of the fact that you had your only sibling stripped away from you at such a young age. You had grown up together until she moved to study in South Korea and eventually became a trainee, going against your parents’ wishes, and leaving you feeling abandoned.
You tried to be supportive of her, but everytime you would see her with her group members, it always felt like you were being reminded of how you had lost your sister to seven people you didn’t know.
It was childish, you had to admit, but you missed her dearly. Dong was your best friend and you protected her at every given moment. So, after a promotion at work, you were given the opportunity to move to a different country. And seeing that South Korea was among your options, your answer was clear as day.
“There she is.”
Bora didn't want to bring the topic up again, knowing how it was a sensitive subject. So she bears the usual grin she always wore before waving her hand in an exaggerated manner, enough for you, and a handful of strangers, to notice the dancer.
You suppress the urge to roll your eyes as you head over, forcing a smile for your sister, and you notice as she lets go of her soulmate's hand to welcome you into a warm hug.
"I can't believe you're actually here." You hear her voice muffled against your shoulder, and your smile becomes more genuine as you pull back to give her a proper once over. "I can't either, but I'm sure you're gonna get sick of my face one of these days now." You joke and Bora smiles from the side, witnessing your true self around your younger sister.
Though as your eyes drifted to her, the dancer smiled and her wave was more tame this time around. "It's been a while. I hope your flight was fine." She attempts and you nod stiffly, expression now blank that Dong has to nudge you. "It was alright, though I think my legs would appreciate the walk."
She's a little surprised, considering you were a little more civil compared to your first meeting years ago. But she takes it either way.
"Well, let's get you to your apartment. I want to hear all about the promotion." Your sister pipes up as she takes your arm and Bora trails after you as you speak, respecting both of your privacy.
Though she does notice how you keep a slow pace to make sure that she isn't too far behind.
..
"You mean she's actually civil, now?" Siyeon asks in disbelief as she sets her cup aside. Her eyes were so wide, it looked like they were about to pop out of their sockets.
"I was expecting her to ignore me the whole time. But she was trying." Bora explained, her face showing how she was also having troubles coming to terms with your new personality. "Then again, you are Dongie's soulmate. It's possible that she's still not too happy with the rest of us but tolerates you." Yoohyeon piped up and Bora turned to her. "I know, I thought of that, too."
Currently, Dong decided to spend a few nights with you to help you adjust, which Minji allowed.
"Dongdong actually told me that they had a serious talk when she went back home." The dancer stated while leaning against Yubin's arm. "But at least she doesn't resent you. She's trying for Dong unnie's sake."
"Dami is right. I'm sure none of us want to have Dongie pick sides. I'd probably do the same if my brother ever finds his soulmate." The leader commented and Gahyeon crinkled her nose. "Unless you find yours first." She teased, making the eldest playfully roll her eyes. "Very funny, but you know I'm not rushing into finding them."
Siyeon hums, already knowing the leader's stance after all these years. "Wouldn't it be funny if your soulmate ended up being Y/n?" Yoohyeon made a sound of protest, looking scandalized as Gahyeon laughed. "Don't say that! I can't imagine Jiu unnie with someone like Y/n unnie."
Bora rolled her eyes this time. "She isn't that bad. We don't even know what she's like aside from that one time and all the stories Dongie told us." She defended and Yubin shrugged her shoulders as she laced her fingers under her chin. "That's true, but all of unnie's stories are different from what Y/n unnie showed us."
"She's a protective older sister who had to let go of her only sibling. I'm sure you can understand how painful that must have been."
No one says anything to counter that. Even when Gahyeon was an only child, she's grown to love all the girls as though they were her own family, so she can't imagine having any of them taken away from her.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, Bora spoke. "Dongie said Y/n was offering dinner for tomorrow." She looked up from her phone, the question in her eyes and Minji struggled a little to find an answer before she took a quick look around.
If Bora said you were fine, then maybe it would be alright.
"Sure. Tell them we'll meet them there."
Maybe that was her mistake.
Minji isn’t sure why, but given that you would be around more often now, she realized that you had to have some sort of civil relationship for your sister’s sake. Dong was as precious to you as she was to all of them. With you much closer now, there was no doubt that you would be around them, whether you liked it or not.
When dinner came around, Dong was leading the group through the restaurant, giving her name before they were brought to the table you had reserved for everyone, though you were nowhere in sight.
“I thought you said she was already here?” Yoohyeon asks cautiously, taking a seat and then looking around the fancy restaurant. “She sure does know how to go all out.” Siyeon comments when she looks at the various decorations and the expensive looking furniture.
Dong laughs at that, but a voice beats her into responding. “Work hard and you get rewarded, I suppose.” All heads turn to you when you finally join them and all but your sister and her soulmate straighten at your appearance.
With a nod, you take a seat beside the pair and then eye each girl. “I’ve already asked Dongie what you girls would like and ordered ahead. Though if you want to add anything, feel free to ask.” You explain, gesturing to the food that was already present on the table and answering Yubin’s silent question.
Minji shifts a little, the tension suffocating, before she decides to speak up. “It’s nice to see you again. I hope your trip was fine.” She says carefully, a kind smile on her features as you raise your eyes to meet hers. “It was alright.” Was your curt reply and Dong rolled her eyes before giving you a nudge on the side.
You give your sister a small glare before clearing your throat. “Right. Well, there was something I’ve been meaning to say.” You tell them and all eyes are on you, all of them listening very carefully while you keep a calm look on your face. “I am aware that my actions towards you all have been very childish and unpleasant.” You begin, and they aren’t sure if you notice the silent exchange they send each other or just chose to ignore it. “I didn’t make the effort to get to know any of you and merely aimed my anger and selfishness towards you all. For that, I’d like to properly apologize.”
The table is quiet for a while, the six girls looking at you in surprise and disbelief, and while you didn’t show it, you were a little nervous.
Thankfully, Yubin manages to recover before offering you a smile. “I understand why you acted the way you did, and it’s okay. I’m sure I would feel the same if I were in your shoes.” She assures and it’s like a chain reaction before everyone starts talking. “We get it, really. Family is really important to you.” Yoohyeon is the one to say, and while it was different for her, she does understand being separated from a loved one.
Slowly, the tension starts to melt away. And while it was still a little awkward, the girls found a little bit of comfort in your presence the longer you all spoke to one another. Much like Dong when she first arrived in South Korea, you weren’t too talkative.
You were still quietly gauging each of the girls’ personalities, though you knew enough about Bora to know she would take care of your sister, soulmate or not.
They all cared for one another and you could see that your little sister was, in fact, happy where she was. This was her home away from home, and you didn’t have the heart to keep blaming these girls when they made sure she was loved and taken care of.
Resigning to that fact, you decided that maybe this was for the best. You couldn’t cling to your childhood forever and it was probably time to move on.
While you're so stuck in thought, you failed to catch how Yoohyeon had accidentally knocked a bowl with her hand, effectively spilling its contents. Unfortunately, the soup in it was still hot and you were quick to wince when it came in contact with your skin.
What no one was also expecting though, was the yelp that came from across your seat. Minji had clutched her left hand in an attempt to soothe the sudden ache and Dong looked more than surprised as you cradled the exact same hand.
“Unnie, are you alright?" Gahyeon’s question caught your ears and Siyeon’s eyes widened as both you and the leader answered at the same time.
“I'm okay."
The table grew silent as the two of you finally looked up, Minji’s face growing pale when she realized what was happening. She had kept her soulmate link open, and by doing so led her connection to experience the same pain her soulmate was experiencing.
That soulmate… was you.
“I'm, uh, going to ask for more napkins." Yubin quietly muttered as she swiftly left the table and Gahyeon squirmed as her eyes shifted from one person to another. The silence was deafening at this point and Dong wasn't sure how to proceed as she looked towards Bora.
The dancer looked worried above all else, but the disbelief still showed. “I think-”
"Excuse me.”
Dong made a sound of protest as she watched you get up and leave the table. "Jie!” With a quick nod from her girlfriend, your sister quickly followed after you while the rest of the girls did their best to process what just transpired.
"So Jiu unnie’s soulmate…"
“I can't believe you jinxed it!" Yoohyeon squeaked while Siyeon tended to the leader’s hand, making sure it didn't hurt too much. “Oh god, Jiu unnie is… no, I can't even think about it.” Bora rolled her eyes at the maknae’s antics before she took the napkins from Yubin’s hands and began to wipe away the spilled soup. “Stop acting like Y/n’s some sort of disease."
“But she hates us!" Yoohyeon protested. “How can she be Jiu unnie’s soulmate?" Minji, who had been quiet the whole time, finally snaps out of her daze before looking around to assess what was happening.
She took note of the absence of you and Dong, so she's quickly on her feet and catching everyone off guard. “Unnie?"
“Where are they?" She almost feels panicked at the thought that you’d left, but Siyeon gently tugs her back down to sit. “Unnie, I think you need to let them talk and let Y/n calm down." She says softly and the leader purses her lips together. "But I… we…"
Bora frowns at her friend before shaking her head. “Just let them talk for now, okay?" And as much as Minji wants to go and chase after you right now, she reluctantly obliged, sitting stiffly in her seat while the others did their best to try and distract her.
It takes around ten minutes before Dong is walking back, a regretful look on her face, and Minji’s shoulders tense up when she doesn't see you anywhere. “Unnie went home." Oh.
Instantly, there's sorrow in the leader's chest with knowing that her soulmate intentionally chose to leave after finding out who she was. While you may not be on the best of terms, she at least hoped that you would open up to the idea and talk to her. Since you were now living in South Korea, she thought this might be your chance to repair the relationship that you had and maybe work on your bond.
But that didn't seem like the case.
“The food’s been paid for but… do you guys still want to stay?” Dong asks with a frown and Minji looks at her with pleading eyes. "Did she leave already?” She can't help asking and Dong gives her a look, analyzing her friend, and she's not sure whether or not she wants to answer.
But she knows Minji.
"She's waiting for her ride.”
That's all it takes for the leader to shoot out of her seat and out of the restaurant in hopes of catching you before your ride gets there. While Yoohyeon and Gahyeon wanted to protest, their respective partners both stopped them.
By the time Minji’s out the door, she feels the chill bite at her skin for a split second before it's mellowed down. Her heart skips a beat at the thought but pushes it down as she focuses on the task at hand. It doesn't take her long to find you though because there's only a few people there. She sees the way you rub your burnt hand and her own skin tingles at the slight pain that lingered.
"Can we talk?”
“You and I have no business with each other that would require-”
“You know that’s not true… not anymore at least.” You were stubborn, Minji knew that. But she wasn’t about to give up on a chance that allowed her to connect with someone on such a deeper level that even her words were no longer needed.
But you were having none of it. Soulmates be damned. You were not about to do that, not with her.
“It’s a stupid connection. It doesn’t mean anything to me.” You turn to give her a sharp look. “It shouldn’t mean anything to you either.” All words die in her throat when a car finally pulls up and you open the door, stepping inside without saying anything more than you already have.
Minji all but watches as you slip from her fingers and disappear into the night, leaving her with an aching heart and shattered hope.
..
“Unnie, are you sure?” Dong pants when she hunches over, hands on her knees while she tries to catch her breath and Minji puts away her nearly empty water bottle, blinking up at the rest of her team with an apologetic look on her face. “I’m sorry, I just keep messing up this one part.” She says regretfully and Bora gives her a look that basically screams “shut up or I just might strangle you”.
“It’s only just a little bit more practice and you girls will be free to go so don’t worry.” Sooyeon promises them and Yubin shakes her head with a grin. “It’s okay, unnie. We can handle it.” However, no one is able to pick up on the wince that the leader shows after finally stretching her arms and legs. Siyeon had only spared her a questioning stare before she’s being bothered by the overgrown puppy of the group as Bora marches in their direction.
“You alright to keep going?” Sooyeon asks her when she sees the leader staring, but Minji is quick to snap out of her thoughts and flashes a grin, nodding her head and calling everyone to attention.
The pain lingers, but she manages to push through until maybe the week after.
She quietly asked Siyeon to get her some hot packs to put on the sore area along with her legs one night before she’s just about ready to call it quits.
“Handong?”
The familiar voice meets everyone’s ears when the door opens and a dancer is quick to point to your sister, who spins around in surprise. “Jie jie! What are you doing here?” She asks when she walks over. “Actually, how did you get here?” She adds with her brows pinched together and you frown before handing her the plastic bag you were carrying. “I have a phone, you idiot.”
Bora walks over to join you, given that you were a little more welcoming of her now that you were living here and managed to get to know her on the few instances Dong had forced you to spend time together. “What’s that you got there?” She inquires while your sister finally looks at the contents of the bag, her face lighting up when she sees a few familiar names inside. “Aww! You didn’t have to come here and bring us food!” She laughed when she noticed the embarrassment on your face.
Minji blanches at the sight of you and basically shrinks next to the maknae who looks worriedly at her. “We can go out if you want, unnie.” She whispers, but the eldest only offers her a smile before shaking her head, letting out a shaky breath. “It’s okay.”
“Anyway, shouldn’t you be at work right now?” Dong asks when Bora takes the bag to set aside, telling everyone that you had gotten something for them, too. “I clocked out early. I wasn’t feeling too good.” You mumble before your sister raises a brow. “So you decided to come here instead of going home and resting?”
“I wanted to be more involved in your life.”
Your sister pauses at your words before a smile blooms across her face and a poke landed on your cheek. “You’re getting soft.” She teased and you crinkle your nose while swatting her hand away. “Shut up and go back to practice. Everyone is looking at us.”
“You love me.”
“Unfortunately.”
With a laugh, Dong skips over to join the rest of her friends while you take a seat on one of the chairs to watch them do their work. While you were someone who worked in the world of business, you were honest when you told your sister that you wished to be more involved. So you pay attention to their choreography with rapt attention.
And while you don’t intend on doing so, your eyes gravitate towards the woman who was, in your opinion, a little more sluggish than she should be. It caused your brows to raise before pain flared throughout the entirety of your left side. Immediately, your hand reaches to try and soothe it, but the pain is persistent so you’re quick to look at the raven haired woman who is trying her best to power through whatever pain she was dealing with without realizing that she still kept her soulmate link open.
Looks like you were more tired than you let on because you did the same.
However, when you began to feel the sudden influx of her pain, your frown only deepened before you decided to slowly absorb whatever it was she was feeling, feeling a little relieved when she starts to move a lot more comfortably than when you arrived.
It’s like that for the rest of their practice as you quietly watched and accepted your soulmate’s discomfort without her knowledge.
“Will you be coming over tonight?” Dong asks when she comes back to you, candy in hand, and you shake your head, wincing when the nausea hits harder. “I just wanted to watch.” She scoffs before lightly punching your arm and you almost curse at how much that hurt. “You could have just gone ahead, dummy.”
Your brows knit together and at this point, Minji was already looking at you from where she stood. “I just felt like it. Now, shut up.” You grumble before swiftly walking out of the room and your sister laughs as she chases after you. “Jie jie, come on!” But your only goal right now was to escape and hide the fact that you had used your soulmate link to help Minji despite how you’ve been ignoring her.
Hell, you’ve been making her feel like utter shit with the way you talked to her since finding out she was your soulmate, but you had no idea that she was dealing with something like this.
“Be sure to eat when you get to your dorm and don’t stay up late.” You instruct as you reach your car, a pout forming on the latter’s lips as she crosses her arms. “Since when did you turn into mom?” She asks and you give her a look before getting inside. “I mean it, Dongdong.”
Sighing, she nods her head before giving you a quick hug and then shutting your door. “I will. Get some rest, okay? You look like you’re about to pass out or something.”
Shooting her a smile, you nod to the rest of the girls over her shoulder, eyes meeting Minji’s before you finally bid them all a goodnight and drive off.
As soon as you’re out of sight, Dong just stands there, but her smile is nowhere in sight as she lowers her hand and frowns in the direction you took. “Dongie?” Bora is quick to her side, noticing the sudden shift in her mood before her girlfriend shook her head. “I’ll check on unnie tomorrow.” Is all she says before she’s leading the two of them to the van that was waiting for them.
..
While you did avoid your soulmate like the plague, you do show up to a handful of their practices ever since then. Minji obviously noticed due to how her eyes would immediately gravitate towards you whenever you entered the room. She didn't mean to, but knowing that you were her soulmate had shifted something within her and she's a little frustrated knowing how your relationship was.
But since the first visit, Minji did notice how she was slowly feeling better. And at one point she did believe that she was finally well rested without knowing that you were the actual reason that she was better. Maybe the only time that she got a hunch was when you didn't come to their practice and she could feel the same throb on her side as before you had come to visit them.
“Y/n isn't here today?" Bora voiced out one time and Minji looked up to see your sister shaking her head in response. “She hasn't been answering any of my texts either so I think she's busy at work.” Dong tells them and Minji can't help but frown.
While you were a busy person, you always had time to text your sister on your whereabouts even though you’ve been living in South Korea for a month now.
"Doesn't unnie usually still text you though?” Yubin voices out Minji’s original thoughts. Even though she's admittedly still intimidated by your presence, Yoohyeon did show concern when she notices a difference in your usual routine. “The last message she sent me was three hours ago. She should be done with work by now.” Dong mumbles while she tries to send you another text. However when there’s still no response from you, she purses her lips before finally dialing your number.
“Maybe she’s just asleep, unnie.”
“She would have told me that she was headed home at least." Dong bites her lip as she anxiously waits for you to pick up the phone. However as soon as the line connects, she breathes out a heavy sigh of relief. “Yah! What are you doing? I've been trying to contact you-"
Everyone watches as the resident cat went quiet, her expression hardening as she listened to whoever seemed to have your phone at the moment. “What room?" Is all they hear before she's thanking the person and then quickly reaching for her bag.
“Unnie, I need to go to the hospital."
Bora and Minji’s faces were both of surprise and shock, but the former says nothing more as she follows after her soulmate while the leader and the rest of the members hurried after them. "Y/n unnie is at the hospital?” Yoohyeon asks while she did her best to avoid tripping over her own feet. "What happened?”
"That's what I want to know, too.”
As everyone huddled inside the car, Dong stares at her phone with Bora gently coaxing her into talking to her. Meanwhile, Minji’s mind can't help but run around at the possible reasons as to why you would be in the hospital.
For some reason it saddens her how she can't even feel anything that you may be feeling at the moment and all she can think of is how you've cut your connection off. It stings, but she refuses to be selfish right now and focuses on keeping her member calm and the rest in check.
As soon as they get to the hospital, Dong is the first one out and is quickly asking for directions to your room. She has no room for anything else at the moment. She just needed to see where you were. So she skips the elevator and opts for the stairs, taking two steps at a time and ignoring the protests of her roommate and soulmate.
“Uh, do you know where we're going?" Yubin can't help but question. Still no response. “Dongie, slow down or you might trip." Siyeon warns, only for the said female to abruptly turn down the next corridor, causing Yoohyeon to nearly crash into the dancer’s back.
Your sister would apologize to them later, probably. Right now, she was more concerned about your condition. When her eyes spotted the room number you were in, she quickly reached for the door before pushing it open.
“Jie jie?"
Inside, she immediately finds you sitting on the hospital bed. She's quick to give you a once over before she notices the bags under your eyes and that your skin lacks color. Her brows pinch together in worry as she comes closer and you turn your head when you hear their group.
“Dongie, what are you doing here?" Minji frowns at the question, but Dong merely scoffs as she crosses her arms across her chest. “What am I doing here? What happened to you?" She all but seethes. “You weren't answering any of my texts and when I call you, it's someone from work telling me that you're at the hospital?" Your frown deepens when the guilt stems in your chest the more your sister speaks. “I told you not to overwork yourself."
The rest of the girls are a little surprised, but then again this was her sister. It was understandable that she was upset right now.
“Dongdong, calm down." Minji gently soothes as Bora grabs her soulmate’s hand. “I know you're upset, but Y/n needs to rest right now, okay?" You watch as the leader tries to coax your sister but the glare she has is still fixed on your face as she waits for an explanation.
“It's okay." You finally interrupt. Looking around, you breathe out a sigh before gesturing for everyone to take a seat. “I suppose you'll all be here for a while so please have a seat somewhere."
“Jie-"
“I'm sorry." You cut your sister off with a heartfelt apology. “I didn't mean to worry you. In fact, I didn't think this would happen in the first place." You tell her, leaning back against the bed. “What exactly happened then?”
You're quiet for a moment, carefully considering whether or not to tell the truth with all of her members present. But then again, you were seeing them in a completely different light especially after you've been experiencing how exhausted Minji’s felt ever since you arrived.
"Jiu-ssi.”
Everyone looked surprised when you called their leader, but your soulmate only looked at you as your eyes met hers. "You haven't been feeling anything for a while, have you?” It was a simple question, but Gahyeon only frowned at the implication. "Why are you asking Jiu unnie?” But Yubin had placed a hand on the maknae’s knee while Minji shifted in her seat. "Not… really. I only got a little sore after some of our practices but they pretty much went away after."
She doesn't understand why this was relevant. You'd severed your connection with her ever since you found out she was your soulmate. It was why she couldn't feel an ounce of the pain you were feeling.
“As it turns out, the pain that you've been feeling for the past month has only been accumulating."
What?
“You were experiencing some pain on your sides the day I first visited Dongie at your company. I noticed that you weren't exactly comfortable when you were dancing so I tried something.” Wait, did that mean… “When I had reopened our soulmate bond, I was able to take that pain away, along with every other discomfort you had been feeling at the time."
Minji’s eyes widened at the admission and her back grew stiff. “I also noticed how the pain was becoming more frequent so I opted to just leave the link open." You then shake your head when you remember where you were. “Unfortunately, it looks like I've overestimated myself.”
“But I thought…”
"How come unnie never felt anything from you?” Siyeon asks when she notices that the leader was unable to find her voice. "A soulmate link can be made one way. So I opted to keep her out while letting her pain in.” Dong took your hand in hers when she took the seat closest to the bed. “You should know how exhausting that can be. You should have said something.” Your sister scolds and you only smile while squeezing her hand. "After what I said to her…" You tear your eyes away from your sister to look at your soulmate. “I thought maybe this was my way of possibly apologizing."
Minji couldn’t believe her ears, but at the same time, she was deeply moved with how you had decided to take all of her pain away even when you had told her that it all meant nothing to you. All this time she believed that you had no care for her and yet… you had been taking care of her without her knowledge.
“I know that I overreacted when I found out, but the truth is that I’m afraid of what this link may bring me.” You finally admit with a heavy breath. “I didn’t want to have another thing possibly be taken from me again, so I opted to just push you away rather than accept you and the bond that we have.”
Sensing the sensitivity of the conversation, Dong quickly gestured for everyone to get out of the room. And while Yoohyeon wanted to protest, her soulmate placed a hand over her mouth and merely dragged her outside. Bora sent her best friend a look while Dong gave you a smile before they both closed the door, leaving the two of you alone.
“I’m sorry, Jiu-ssi. I know that you’ve been miserable since we last spoke but I guess I was too prideful to admit that I was in the wrong in the first place.” You tell her and Minji forced herself to stand back up before slowly approaching your bed.
“I… can’t say that it was okay but… I do understand where you’re coming from.” She finally says while gripping her own hands. “Your sister left, you were hurt. So now that there’s something else to lose, you’re afraid.” She had hit a nail on that one as you dropped your gaze down to your lap and Minji felt her heart skip as she stopped at the edge of your hospital bed. “But Y/n… you need to know that I don’t give up on the things that matter to me.”
You lift your head in surprise to see her already staring at you, a warm look on her face as she assesses you and you wonder deep down why she isn’t screaming at you, cursing you for hurting her. “How can you possibly forgive me?” It comes out of your mouth before you can even think, and she only gives you a smile.
“I’d like to think that I’m not like most people. And if you give me a chance… maybe we can get to know more about each other's soulmate better?”
#girl group#girl group imagines#girl group scenarios#dreamcatcher#dreamcatcher imagines#dreamcatcher scenarios#jiu#jiu scenarios#jiu imagines#jiu x reader#kim minji#dreamcatcher x reader
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So, the Knuckles Show...
It was a hassle to attempt and find the show somewhere else (pirate if you wanna watch), and also I had a lot going on that day, BUT!
I have finally finished all six episodes of Knuckles, and my final thoughts...!
...It was pretty good.
Honestly, nothing to ground-breaking and outstanding but it was fantastic and such a lovely treat to hardcore Knuckles fans. Like me lol. (It may not look like it, but TRUST ME THIS SHOW TURNED ME INTO A HARDCORE KNUCKLES FAN.)
All of my thoughts are under the cut, but to make a long story short, I really enjoyed it! (Forgive this post and me I'm not the best at sharing reviews DX)
Now, some things I wanna point out... (MASSIVE SPOILERS AND PERSONAL HEADCANONS AHEAD)
THOUGHTS ON CHARACTERS
I really liked Wade Whipple. He's goofy, and dorky, and he was fantastic for saving his family and Knuckles. His character arc was really interesting to watch, and he's got a lot of funny moments. Him and Knuckles also make a great team. I believe he would make a great Uncle for Knuckles. XD
Knuckles' arc was fantastic too. I was hoping that he realizes that Earth is his home, and he did. The Movie Series version of Knuckles is definitely my favorite version of Knuckles. EVER. Love this character to death. Number one favorite character right now.
The story was pretty good, too. Interesting that Knuckles isn't the only main focus, but I was onboard with the idea that Wade is also in the spotlight. I liked Wade but I love him A LOT.
The whole drama with Wade's family was something that honestly caught me off guard, but in a good way. It's just great to see more of his extended family. (And Wade's mother and is just so sweet and cool.)
Mason and Willoughby were fun to watch. Almost better than Orbot and Cubot, honestly. XD
The Buyer... I kind of forgot about him until the last few episodes. XD Cool villain, though!
Pachacamac... Never thought I would actually enjoy this character. Really wish he got enough screen time, dude is so hilarious. So much better than the Pachacamac we all knew from Adventure 1 pffffft. And hearing Doc Brown's voice coming out of Mac's mouth was the best part. He fits the role perfectly.
WACHOWSKI FAMILY CRUMBS! WE GOT TO SEE MORE OF THE WACHOWSKIS! It was only for one episode, but it's just so refreshing to see Knuckles with his newfound family, especially Tails. (Even though he didn't get enough screentime.)
No Donut Lord... 😔
MY HEADCANONS OF THE EVENTS DURING THE SHOW (and afterwards)
The house is still in construction after the second film. I have a feeling that the Knuckles show took place probably a month or two after the second film. (Or at least after the baseball field scene from the movie.)
And if that's the case, then it's probably why Sonic and Tails haven't called Maddie "mom" yet. Sonic JUST made Donut Dad official, but not hearing Sonic calling Maddie "mom" didn't surprise me, actually. Since he had a mother figure once before, and now she's gone. Sonic is probably still struggling to make Mama Maddie official after that whole mess. 🥺
And also I think Tails does look at Tom and Maddie as his parents, but calls them by their first names because that's what he's most comfortable with for now.
Sonic mentions that Tails and Knuckles are his roommates. ...Something tells me that he hasn't realized the bigger picture yet. 😈 Once the realization hits, it's over for the middle child.
I seriously don't believe Knuckles is sticking with the Whipples. He's got a bed at home, and "pretzel woman" is a motherly title of sorts for Maddie. I just think Knuckles and Wade have formed a really strong bond. Wade is more of a uncle figure for him, but the Whipples are part of the Wachowskis regardless. 💕
I bet Knuckles' grape stash that the moment Knuckles walks back home with Wade, Sonic, Tails and Maddie (and Tom if he came home) freaks the hell out because he just straight up left home without an explanation. Especially since he's grounded and shouldn't have step foot out of the house. But all that matters is that Knuckles is at home with his family. Did this calm everybody down? No, and yes. It's hard to explain. (At least Sonic knows now that Knuckles can finally relax.)
Ever since the events of the Knuckles Show, seeing visions of Pachacamac is pretty normal for Knuckles, whether he needs to be guided for something even if it's small, or he just casually shows up in his dreams just to say "hi." I feel like since he visited Wade while he was unconscious, I think Pachacamac would also visit other people's dreams or visions. It be so goddamn funny if this dude just randomly show up in Sonic's dream, scaring the living daylights out of him, and when he explains it to Knuckles, he's like: "Oh, that's just Mac, he's cool." and Sonic is like: "???????"
THOUGHTS ON THE EPISODES - Fair warning, I've only seen these episodes ONCE (Including some clips I rewatched on Tumblr.) so some things here might be fuzzy or wrong, so bare with me here...
Episode 1 was a great start. I love the dynamic Sonic and Knuckles has. Bummer that we didn't get to see more of them together, but with the power of writing, that problem can be solved! (HUZZAH!) I love the small bit with Knuckles and his mother Maddie after he got grounded and how he just, took it okay with the fact that he's grounded. And I love Sonic trying to help his new buddy out, he's an absolute sweetheart for that. Pachacamac's appearance in the episode took me by surprise and he was such a joy to watch. Love the elderly goofball. Seeing Knuckles and Wade interact was nice, too, even when he gets to talk about his dad. It was a nice moment. And Knuckolas Cage. Best nickname ever, how dare Knuckles decline such a title for a perfect warrior XD
Episode 2 was great. Absolutely love the daydream scene with Wade's plan on saving Knuckles from the G.U.N. agents, and Holding Out For a Hero playing in the background. GOLDEN. Don't remember much else other than that and Knuckles and Wade rocking out to so music. (And Knuckles breaking the radio again.)
Episode 3 is when we get to see Wade's family members, and it was nice. Wanda is one of those siblings that we had and Wendy (is that her name?) is just so lovely. We got to know more of Knuckles' dad, and once more, it was a tender moment between an Echidna and a dork-ass Uncle. 😊 And we got a EPIC fight scene with Knuckles, Wendy and the goons. It was AWESOME. Also, love Wade's room. He's got good taste.
Episode 4... Oh, my God. It was a fever dream. Literally. It was so RIDICULOUS but it was the greatest thing I've ever seen in a long time. XD I love musical numbers that just come out of NOWHERE, and this was one of them! Adam Pally (Wade) in a Knuckles costume is just the most elegant thing. AND ECHIDNA MUPPETS ARE REAL! I WAS HOPING THAT THEY WOULD ACTUALLY BRING IN THE ECHIDNA MUPPET!! Jokes aside, it was a strangely epic episode of Wade going through Knuckles' past in a unique way. And the songs were pretty great. ...You think that's where all the budgeting went? On this gorgeous musical number? /j Also we got more of my boy Pachacamac, being one of my favorite characters besides Knuckles lmao GOD I wish we got more of Pachacamac. I love him so much XD
Episode 5 Is when they arrive at Reno. It was alright. We got to see Wade meeting his dad finally (also Knuckles is using a phone no problem I guess??) I think that's all I remember. WE GOT KNUCKLES WITH THE HAT THOUGH SO YEAH!
Episode 6 is the last one of the mini series and it was pretty kick-ass. More cool fight scenes, with Knuckles and the Agents, him against the Buyer, which was short and sweet, but still pretty intense. Wade and Pete was competing in bowling. Kept forgetting about that, but it was cool regardless. And Wade being the best uncle ever and protecting Knuckles while he was out. Also kind of forgot a lot from this episode, but nonetheless, badass way to end the mini series. Complete with the classic freeze frame of Knuckles and Wade getting a high five! Knuckles realizing that his home is on Earth was such a powerful scene. It was the first Sonic movie all over again.
And yes, there was a pretty quick post credits scene where Knuckles found a song and claimed it was his jam. It was really cute. XD
Really wish there was a scene where Knuckles came back home to the Wachowskis with the family flipping the lid over the fact that he left the house, but in my heart I know damn well it happened. I know this series too well lmao
That's pretty much all I wanna say about how this show made me feel. It was a fun time. Not was insane as Movie 1 and 2, but still as enjoyable.
Honestly, after watching this, I hope we get a Wachowski family TV show, where it's just the family on misadventures, and moments together that are comedic, fluffy, angst, any emotion you wanna feel watching it, and it's just a good time. I just wanna see more of this goofy little growing family. (Also it'd be cool if season 1 was after the first movie because I wanna see Sonic adjusting to his new life with Tom and Maddie and spending traditions and holidays with them before the sequel.) I love this series too much. 😅
This show got me really ambitious to work on my stories and I really wanna show the community how amazing these characters are. (I just need to get an AO3 in the future...)
It feels good to be back on the Wachowski bandwagon.
The Knuckles Show is flawed, but it was a fun time. I love the characters, I love the story, I love the choice of songs they used, and of course, I love Knuckles. This is the best we've ever seen of Knuckles, and I'm proud of how far this little, tough guy has came.
The Echidna Warrior made his debut 30 years ago, and he's never been stronger. Keep on punching, Knuckles! 😎💕
#piko rambles#knuckles wachowski#sonic movie 2020#knuckles series#knuckles series spoilers#I don't really do review posts. Just wanted to share my thoughts on the show.
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You're nearly 30 and you still have Niall Horan posters on your wall! Tragic 🪼🪼🪼
wait what does it have to do with my age? i’m 28 and i have music stuff up on my wall? what else should i have ? something i don’t enjoy ? i didn’t know there is an age limit for putting posters up..? how is it tragic? i love my wall and it’s literally my fave spot in my flat.
enjoy it a bit more . still have to get another one of those cabinets and it’s gonna look even nicer .
#you are so weird#and this was probably from the one and only trashbag#even though i thought they forgot about me#yes i was mentioned in their blog just now#and no#i don’t ‘prefer’ niko over niall#i literally post what i see on my tl#and niall is and has always been my fave so idk what you’re on#asks
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