#because there’s been a good track record with drinks

[pdriesta]

a lifetime of us — 4

an —a series of blurbs from past or present, following the main couple from “a lapse of us". happy belated birthday pedri <3

the soft hum of morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a golden glow over pedri’s peaceful face. y/n lay beside him, her head propped on her hand as she watched him sleep, the faintest smile tugging at her lips. today was his birthday, and she had every intention of making it perfect.

leaning closer, she pressed her lips to his forehead, trailing kisses down his temple, his cheek, and finally to the corner of his mouth. he stirred, a sleepy groan escaping him as his eyes fluttered open.

“happy birthday, amor,” she whispered against his skin, her voice warm and soft.

pedri blinked up at her, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “best way to wake up,” he mumbled, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her closer.

she giggled, peppering his face with more kisses. “i’d hope so. i’ve been rehearsing this moment in my head all week.”

he laughed, his voice still thick with sleep. “perfect execution. ten out of ten.”

��you’re welcome,” she teased, brushing her nose against his. “now, get up. you have training.”

pedri groaned dramatically, burying his face in her neck. “it’s my birthday. i should get to skip training.”

“oh, yeah?” she asked, amusement lacing her tone. “and who’s going to explain that to the manager? because it’s not going to be me.”

he pulled back just enough to pout at her, his lips curving downward in exaggerated disappointment. “you’re supposed to be on my side.”

“i am,” she said, running her fingers through his messy curls. “but i’m also on the side of you not getting benched for missing practice. so, up you go.”

he sighed, dramatically flopping onto his back. “fine. but only because you asked nicely.”

“good,” she said, sliding out of bed. “now, go shower.”

pedri’s hand shot out to grab her wrist, tugging her back toward him. “not without you,” he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

she rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her. “you’re impossible.”

“and you love it,” he quipped, pulling her onto his lap as he sat up.

“unfortunately,” she teased, leaning in to kiss him before letting him guide her toward the bathroom.

after their shared shower—a mix of playful teasing and stolen kisses—pedri finally made his way to training. y/n stood at the door, waving him off with a smile before closing it behind her and setting her plan into motion.

the house was quiet, save for the soft hum of music playing from the speaker. y/n moved with purpose, stringing up decorations and carefully placing balloons around the living room. she’d ordered his favorite dishes from their go-to spots and was determined to bake him a cake, even though her track record in the kitchen wasn’t exactly stellar.

she spent hours sifting through flour, cracking eggs, and carefully following the recipe. by some miracle, the cake turned out beautifully, and she couldn’t help but grin as she set it on the counter to cool.

next, she wrote out a heartfelt card, pouring all her love and appreciation for him onto the page. every word felt inadequate, but she hoped it would be enough to show him just how much he meant to her.

meanwhile, pedri’s day was a whirlwind of laughter and camaraderie. his teammates, led by fer, had gone all out to plan a small celebration for him after training. they’d reserved a cozy corner of a local spot, decked out with minimal decorations and a playlist of reggaeton and Spanish classics.

“for someone who hates attention, you seem to be enjoying this,” fer teased, clapping a hand on pedri’s shoulder as he handed him a drink.

pedri chuckled, leaning back against the couch. “it’s not bad… but you’re lucky i like you all. i could be home right now.”

“oh, don’t start,” gavi cut in, pointing at pedri with mock offense. “you’re the birthday boy. this is your night.”

the group laughed, diving into a series of card games and playful dares. at one point, the boys each launched into an exaggerated story about pedri’s first days at barça, complete with impersonations that had everyone doubled over.

“you’re all idiots,” pedri muttered, though the grin tugging at his lips gave him away.

fer leaned in conspiratorially. “careful, y/n might kill us for keeping you this long.”

pedri laughed, shaking his head as he checked his phone for what had to be the fiftieth time. “she’s probably home decorating or something. she loves birthdays.”

“she’s a keeper,” gavi chimed in, earning nods of agreement from the group.

pedri smiled, a soft warmth spreading through his chest at the mere mention of her. “yeah,” he said, almost to himself. “she is.”

as the night wore on, the boys kept the energy alive with more stories, jokes, and a toast to pedri that left him blushing. but even in the midst of all the fun, his mind kept drifting back to y/n. he pictured her bustling around their home, maybe humming along to a playlist as she baked or adjusted decorations. the thought tugged at him, a mix of longing and guilt.

“bro, are you even here right now?” ferran asked, waving a hand in front of pedri’s face.

“what? yeah, i’m here,” pedri said, snapping back to attention.

fer smirked knowingly. “he's been like this sisnce we were young. his mind is just y/n, y/n, y/n”

pedri shrugged, not even bothering to deny it. “she’s just… the best. you’ll understand when you find someone like her.”

gavi groaned, throwing his head back. “and now he’s getting sappy. great. let’s call it a night before he starts reciting poetry.”

the group burst into laughter, but pedri just rolled his eyes, already grabbing his jacket. “yeah, yeah. i’m heading out. thanks for tonight, boys.”

“go on, lover boy,” fer teased, pulling him into a quick hug. “tell y/n we say hi.”

pedri waved them off, practically sprinting to his car. the drive home felt longer than it should have, his anticipation building with every turn. by the time he walked through the door, the sight of their cozy home, dimly lit and filled with the faint scent of baked goods, made his heart swell.

and there she was, standing by the table with a cake in her hands, her face lighting up when she saw him. in that moment, the night with the boys faded to the background. this was what he’d been waiting for—the person he wanted to spend every birthday, every moment with.

the sound of pedri’s car pulling into the driveway had y/n’s heart skipping a beat. she glanced at the cake on the counter, the soft glow of candles flickering against the dim light in the room. everything was ready—the decorations, the meal, her card, and most importantly, her excitement to see him.

the door creaked open, and pedri’s familiar voice called out, “mi vida?”

“in here!” she called back from the kitchen, a smile already spreading across her face.

he appeared in the doorway moments later, his expression a mix of exhaustion and relief as his eyes landed on her. “there you are.”

y/n laughed softly, wiping her hands on a towel as she approached him. “where else would i be?”

pedri didn’t answer, his arms wrapping around her tightly as he pulled her against his chest. “i missed you,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere.

she pulled back just enough to look up at him, her brows arching in amusement. “you’ve been gone for all of six hours, pedri.”

“too long,” he said simply, brushing a kiss against her forehead.

she laughed, leaning into him for a moment before breaking away. “come on, birthday boy. sit down. i have something for you.”

pedri followed her to the table, his curiosity piqued as she set the cake down in front of him. the soft glow of the candles illuminated his face, and y/n felt her chest tighten at the sight of him—her pedri, the boy who had become her whole world.

“make a wish,” she said, her voice warm as she leaned against the table, watching him.

pedri didn’t hesitate. instead of closing his eyes, he reached for her hand, pulling her into his lap.

“pedri,” she laughed, trying to feign protest as she settled against him. “what are you doing? you’re supposed to blow out the candles.”

he tilted his head to look up at her, his dark eyes soft and filled with a kind of devotion that made her heart stutter. “we’ll make the wish together,” he said, his voice steady. “because i already have everything i could ever want.”

her laughter quieted, replaced by a tender smile as her hand moved to cup his cheek. “pedri,” she murmured, her thumb brushing lightly over the faint stubble on his jaw.

“it’s true,” he said, his free hand resting against her back to hold her closer. “you’re my wish, amor. every year, every day, it’s you.”

her gaze softened as she searched his face, her fingers tracing the line of his cheekbone. “you’re going to make me cry,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

“then we’ll cry together,” he teased gently, though his own voice carried a hint of emotion.

she shook her head, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead, then his nose, and finally his lips. “i don’t need anything else either,” she said softly, her words brushing against his mouth. “you’re all of it for me, too, pedri. always.”

they stayed like that for a moment, her perched on his lap, his arms wrapped around her as the candles flickered between them. finally, pedri turned his head slightly, his lips brushing her temple.

“blow them out with me,” he said.

she smiled, leaning forward with him as they both exhaled, extinguishing the candles together.

as the candles' faint smoke curled into the air, the dim light of the room settled around them, leaving just y/n and pedri in the cozy glow of their home. she stayed perched on his lap, her arms loosely draped around his shoulders, while his hands rested on her waist, grounding her there.

pedri’s gaze lingered on her, his dark eyes soft but searching, as though committing every detail of this moment to memory. “you know,” he started, his voice quiet, “i thought about today all week. not the training, not the boys’ plans. just… this. being here with you.”

her fingers gently combed through his hair, a smile tugging at her lips. “you’re sweet, pedri, but you didn’t have to rush home. you could’ve stayed out longer if you wanted.”

he shook his head, leaning his forehead against hers. “i didn’t want to. the whole night, i kept checking my phone, thinking about what you were doing, what you had planned. i couldn’t focus because… this is all i wanted. to come home to you.”

y/n blinked, her chest tightening at the honesty in his voice. she tilted her head back slightly to meet his gaze, her thumb brushing along his cheekbone. “you’ve got me now,” she whispered. “and you always will, pedri.”

he smiled, a little shy but entirely sincere. “good,” he murmured. “because i don’t want to spend another birthday without you. not next year, not ten years from now. i want them all with you, y/n. for the rest of my life.”

her breath hitched at his words, her hand stilling against his cheek as she absorbed the weight of what he said. “pedri…”

“i mean it,” he added softly, his hands tightening their hold on her waist. “every year, every birthday… i want it to be like this. you and me. nothing else matters.”

her eyes welled up with tears, but she managed a watery laugh, her fingers lightly tracing the curve of his jaw. “you’re going to turn me into a puddle, pedri.”

he grinned, leaning up to press a kiss to her nose. “you’re already my puddle, amor.”

she laughed, swatting at his shoulder lightly before cupping his face with both hands. “you’re the love of my life, pedri. you know that, right?”

“i’m counting on it,” he teased, though the crack in his voice betrayed the depth of his emotions.

y/n kissed him then, soft and lingering, pouring every bit of love she felt into the moment. when they pulled back, their foreheads rested together, and she whispered, “you’ll have every birthday, every year, every day. i promise.”

they stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s warmth, the forgotten cake on the table and the rest of the world fading into the background. in that moment, it was just them—two hearts intertwined, beating in time with a love that promised forever.

© PDRIESTA 2024

[bookwyrminspiration]

Mallowmelt cupcakes, anyone? (Recipe can be found on Shannon’s website)

I personally prefer them to actual mallowmelt, but they’re not exemplary by any means. It’s a cupcake (so part of it depends on the cake you use. I used boxed yellow mix like the recipe said). They’re more manageable as a dessert, but actual mallowmelt will give you more of a feel for the treat. These are more reminiscent, more inspired than accurate—which makes sense.

The frosting is actually quite nice, though it is on the sweeter side. And this may be user error, but it doesn’t appear to hold shape very well, so don’t expect intricate designs. I assume that’s the marshmallow fluff in it, but I don’t mind.

Again, may be user error, but I’m not sure why Shannon instructs you to layer all the chocolate and butterscotch chips on the top. They sink to the bottom (except for a ring around the outside that stayed at the top, not pictured), so you’re left with a layer of unmelted (because these are chips) material at the bottom that isn’t overly pleasant. A layer of solid sugar. I think it would be easier to just mix the chips into the batter like in a chocolate chip muffin—and I also only used 2/3c each, not a full cup.

Overall, not bad but not good in my personal opinion. I would rank them above actual mallowmelt, but below the ripplefluffs. Someone who likes cake more would probably enjoy these more, but it’s a fun treat :).

[f1fantasys]

uhm so i have an idea where Lando is working out alone to release his emotions, perhaps after a bad day or bad race. but suddenly, you enter the gym, which annoys him because he wanted to be alone right now.

however, as you start working out, he kinda ogling your 🍒 and eventually decides to approach you to talk and that led to the spicy part when he starts touching you and fucked you on one of the bench using you to let out his anger 🫣 tysm!!!

THIS!! I don't feel like I've done this INCREDIBLE request justice. So someone please write a better one and tag me in it! @ccsainzleclerc5516 you would do amazing at this!

POST RACE WORKOUT

Warnings - smut!! need i say more?

2.4 words. IDK why it's so short - feel like i have writers block.

The Monaco weekend was always a fun one. Fun, but extremely busy, especially being a Sky presenter. From the Monday leading up to the weekend you'd been in and out of meetings, events, and not to mention recording and being live on air for several hours a day. But you loved it, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

But now that the race and post-race shows were finally over, you still had a lot of adrenaline and energy to burn, which is why you currently found yourself walking up the stairs to the gym, wearing the tightest tights and a sports bra. It was well past midnight, but, having connections had its perks, so here you were.

You pushed open the door and stopped in your tracks. There was some distant music playing and as your eyes scanned the room you definitely weren't expecting to find Lando Norris who was currently lifting weights, shirtless, might I add. He stopped what he was doing and stood up, eyes shamelessly searching your body, but an annoyed look on his face.

''Uh, hey'' you greeted.

All he did was nod his head.

''You good?'' you couldn't help but ask at the way he was looking at you. You felt you own cheeks heat up as you gawked at his body that was riled with sweat.

''Yeah'' was all he said as he turned around and continued what he was doing.

You of course have had a lot of interaction with Lando - several interviews and social media videos which meant you'd spent quite a lot of time with him. Obviously, he was one hell of hot man, and yes, you looked, but you'd never touch. Your work was too important to get involved with any of the drivers. You'd also noticed him looking more often than not, but you never allowed your mind to go there.

As you stood there for a few minutes you couldn't help but feel bad for the guy. He'd had a shitty race - mclaren had fucked his strategy, once again, and he didn't get the win. So you totally understood why he was in the gym at the time - also trying to get rid of the adrenaline.

You dragged your feet to the treadmill and hopped on, setting a medium pace, trying to focus on something else and not the half naked man across the room.

After about 15 minutes you slowed your pace down a bit, grabbing your towel to wipe the sheet of sweat over your face and arms. As you walked over to do some weights, you looked ahead in the mirror and locked eyes with Lando. He was standing drinking his water, and you watched as his eyes left yours and shamelessly looked your body up and down again. To be fair - you were swearing the skimpiest gym clothes which left nothing to the imagination.

What you didn't know was that Lando had been eye fucking you the full 15 minutes you were running. He had wanted to be alone, let out his frustration, but that changed the minute he realized it was you who walked through the door. He licked his lips as he saw how your tights wrapped around your ass so perfectly, how your boobs were bouncing and threatening to spill out of your bra, how you back muscles flexed as you ran, and how sweat covered your body making you glisten under the lights. Lando had always found you attractive to say the least, and now he was painfully hard by just watching you workout. He wanted nothing more than to walk up to you and rip your clothes off, bend you over, and rail into you.

You tried your best to ignore him and focus on your task, so you sat on the bench and started brench pressing, heavy breaths leaving your mouth.

Suddenly, you saw Lando standing above you, staring down, and his own breathing just as heavy as yours.

Before you could react and say anything, he held onto the weights and pryed it out of your hands.

''Lan-'' you started, but he cut you off.

''Shh'' you said, before walking around and facing you as you sat up. He took a seat in front of you, legs on either side of the bench as yours were.

You swore you heart was beating out of your chest right now. He looked so heavenly. Bright green eyes, curls messy and sticking to his forehead. And not to mention his god-damn beautiful torso. Muscles taught and defined, with sweat dripping down, his own body shining in the lights.

''Eyes up here'' he said, smirking, catching you out for staring.

''Fuck'' you mumbled to yourself, before you looked up at him.

You felt as his hands found your waist and effortlessly slid you closer to him, and now your breaths were mingling, the heat in your body rising.

As you found yourselves in an apparent staring contest, Lando's hands started roaming your body He traced your arms up and down, your shoulders, you back, and your breath hitched as he suddenly slipped them under your sports bra, feeling up your boobs and fondling with them.

You closed your eyes and tried to calm your breathing, but that was impossible with the fact that he was sitting right in front of you and touching you. Now he was rolling your nipples between his fingers, pulling at and tugging them, earning himself a moan from you.

''Lando'' you panted, needing more, almost grinding yourself on the bench.

''I know baby''

The nickname gave you goosebumps, and you couldn't help but open your eyes and smile at him.

Soon after, Lando tore your bra off of you, revealing your perky boobs. He lowered his head and latched his mouth onto your left nipple. Biting and sucking on it before using his tongue to sooth over.

Your hands found his hair and you pulled at his curls, edging him on, begging him some more. ''Lando, please'' you said, grinding down on the bench harder than before.

He lifted his head and crashed his lips to yours. It was eager and messy, tongues clashing and spit sliding down both yours and Lando's chin. He bit on your lower lip and you felt him slide his hands through your tights to grope at your ass. By now you were cupping his face, pulling him impossibly closer. While his one hand stayed on your ass, the other slid round to your front and cupped your cunt.

The action has you arching off the bench, breath increasing ever so much as he slid his fingers through your folds, which were soaking by now - something that didn't go unnoticed by him.

''Already dripping for me, love?'' he asked, voice thick and hoarse with his British accent.

''Uh huh'' was all you managed to say, biting your lips at the feeling of his calloused fingers rough against your clit, which he found rather quickly.

He captured your lips with his as he thrust two fingers through your entrance, the swift movement making you tremble in his arms.

''Ride my fingers y/n'' he said between breaths.

And so you did, you rode his fingers hard and fast, and just as he curled them at just the right time, feeling you soft cushiony spot inside of you, you felt a warmth begin to build in your stomach.

No word spoken and Lando added a third finger, sending you trembling over the edge as you latched onto his shoulder for support to ride you through your orgasm.

He slowed his fingers, eyes never leaving yours, before pulling them out and shamelessly licking them clean of you cum, moaning at the taste.

''Hmm, so fucking delicious'''he said, smirking, as you watched, mouth agape.

''Lando please'' you panted. ''Need to feel you in me'' you said, looking at him with longing eyes.

When you looked at him again, his whole demeanor changed. His eyes became ridiculously darker and the emotion he wore on his face was a mix of sudden anger and frustration.

He didn't say anything. Instead, he man handled you to lay down before he ripped your tights off of you and stood up to free himself of his constraints.

You watched as his hard cock bounced first then stood tall and angry.

''Fuck, he's big'' you thought to yourself as he placed himself between your legs.

Lando leaned down to kiss you as you took him in your hands and pumped him a few times, using your thumb to spread his pre cum around his tip.

The movement had him bucking forward, grunting into your mouth.

He pulled back and looked you in the eyes. ''You sure?'' he asked.

''Please. Please fuck me''

He lined himself up and wasted no time in slamming into you, bottoming out in one thrust.

''Shit'' you gasped. He was definitely the biggest you'd ever had, and the sting was intense. But this was Lando Norris, and you were determined to let him have his way with you.

He finally started moving, setting a pace that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your nails dug deep into his skin.

''So fucking tight, fuck y/n''

''Oh, Lando, yes, please, yes'' you cried out, unable to keep your moans at bay.

Lando continued to fuck into you while his mouth found your boobs and sucked hard at them, surely leaving purple bruises for tomorrow.

Within minutes you could feel your walls begin to clench around him, your orgasm approaching fast.

''Fuck, gonna cum Lan-'' you started but before you could finish he pulled out. You whined at him, an annoyed whine which you knew would edge him on further.

He scooped you up with such an ease, and suddenly you were flipped over and on your tummy, Lando sliding into your cunt with force again.

He bunched up your hair and pulled it tight, earning pornographic moans from your mouth straight to his ear.

''Can't win a fucking race but at least I got you begging for me'' he said through bated breaths, finally railing you the way he wanted from when you first walked in.

''Fuck Lando, you won. You won for me'' you moaned. You didn't care what the outcome of the actual race was - in your eyes, he was always a winner.

''Doing so well for me babygirl. That's tight.''

This time your orgasm gave you no warning. Hearing him call you babygirl pushed you over the edge, your body shuddering underneath him and your juices spluttering all over.

You moaned his name as you came, and if anything, he sped up his movements briefly before sliding out of you again.

This time he sat facing the mirror and pulled you up to sit down his lap, facing the mirror as well.

You immediately sank down on his now throbbing dick, setting a harsh pace as his hand snaked its way around you and settled on your throat.

''Want you to watch yourself fuck me'' he roughly whispered in your ear.

You kept your eyes on each other while you rode him, Lando's occasionally dropping down to watch how your boobs bounced up and down with each thrust.

''Fuck'' you hissed as you felt another orgasm approaching.

''Fucking me so good baby, go on. Be my slut'' he urged you to carry on.

Your movements were becoming sloppier, unable to hold yourself up and able to continue to thrust so Lando had to take matters into his own hands.

He was now fucking into you again, but at a relentless pace, clearly chasing his own orgasm as well.

''Together, yeah?'' he asked, his hand sliding down to toy at your clit.

You couldn't hold it in anymore. ''Fuck, Lando, now. I need to cum'' you said, as you felt his cock twitching inside of you.

The room now filled with grunts and moans, swear words flying everywhere as you both reached your climax, juices spilling out of you like the end of the worlds. Lando made sure to empty his load painting your walls white with his warm splutter.

You sank back down on him, letting your weight fall back leaning on him.

You locked eyes in the mirror again, both trying to catch your breaths, sweat dripping down the both of you.

Now that he got his release, Lando couldn't help but feel ashamed at the fact that he used you. Although this was the best sex he'd had in a long time, he felt he needed to apologize, and hope he hadn't fucked up a chance at anything more.

You could feel him softening inside of you, but neither made any attempt to move.

''Lan-''

''Wait. Fuck. I'm sorry if I was too rough'' he said, shyly.

''What?''

''I'm sorry i called you a slut. It was a complement, actually. I just had all this adrenaline from the race. And you were there. And...Fuck, i couldn't help myself'' he was rambling.

''Lando stop.'' you said firmer than you intended to. ''I didn't say I didn't enjoy it. Did I?'' you asked.

He shook his head.

''Really, it was so fucking good, and I'm glad it was me. I'm glad you used me''

''I-What?''

''Yeah, think I needed it as much as you did'' you said.

He wrapped his arms around you holding you tighter.

''Well then I'm glad you walked through the door. Thank you'' he cooed.

You smiled at him and slowly got up, letting him slip out of you, when something dawned on you.

''You ripped my clothes, Lando! literally'' you shrieked, eyes wide and a chuckle filling the air.

He stood up and pecked your lips.

''Well then, you'll just have to come home with me'' he said, smirking, but throwing his t-shirt to you to wear.

As he watching you put it on, he couldn't help but notice the stickiness dripping out of you.

''Fuck'' he mumbled, more to himself.

''What?'' you asked, as you didn't even release he was still watching you.

He didn't say anything, instead he bent down and licked your core, collecting the mixture of both of your cum.

The action had your breath hitching, not expecting it at all. You held onto his head as he did what he did, before he stood back up and let the juice slide out of his mouth and into your, before he kissed you roughly again.

''So fucking hot. Round 2 at mines?'' he asked.

You just smiled and walked to the door, opening it while gesturing him to follow you out.

REMEMBER - requests are open!

[girlgenius1111]

You Come Back With Gravity

alexia and r have an argument. r misunderstands, and when alexia leaves to calm down, she thinks she's going for good. angst + fluff :)

-----

Alexia was big on communication, and she didn't like to fight. Neither did you, although your track record in past relationships may argue otherwise. That was more on your former partners, though, than it was on you. Not fighting was new for you. Alexia never yelled, and she insisted that the two of you talk about any issues that were going on calmly, and like adults. A voice had never been raised between the two of you, arguments never escalating to full blown shouting matches, mostly because of Alexia's insistence that they didn't.

Something about this argument, though, felt different. Alexia had proposed a few weeks ago, and, after having a bit too much to drink, you'd brought up something that had been nagging at the back of your mind for a while. Alexia had brushed it aside that night, and again and again since, until you practically forced her to talk about it. Normally, when you presented Alexia with an issue you had, she was quick to try to fix it. Your teammates often joked about the complete 180 Alexia did when she was around you, melting and agreeing to anything you asked of her. You were the same way for her, but it was more surprising that their normally very willful captain so easily did as you said.

If Alexia wouldn't budge on an issue, she normally had a reason, and you didn't require her to explain herself to you. This was different, though. You needed an explanation, before your mind continued to take off in the worst directions.

"Alexia, do you not see that this is important to me?"

"I do, amor, but there is no room for discussion. We are not going public with our relationship. It has stayed low key for this long, and I intend to keep it that way." Alexia was quickly losing her patience with you, and you could tell. Still, you persisted. 

'You won't even give me a reason, Ale! Is this what our relationship is going to be like for the rest of our lives? You make a decision that affects both of us, and I just have to live with it?" Your voice was slightly raised and you could tell Alexia was upset. You were pacing around the room, and she was sitting, completely still, on the couch. Alexia was never still. A part of her was always moving.

"I am not changing my mind on this, mi amor." Alexia told you calmly, although her jaw clenched tight when she finished speaking.

"Okay, well that's it. You don't care what I think. Whatever you say goes, is that it?" You were using anger to hide how terrified you were. There was really only one reason that you could think of to explain Alexia's complete refusal to be transparent about your relationship.

"You know that it is not."

"This is absurd, Ale, we can't even have a conversation without you-"

"¡Basta! Stop yelling, I do not want to talk anymore about this," Alexia shouted finally, rising to her feet.

"I am yelling because you are not listening to me,"

"You are not listening to me. No more of this, we can discuss it when we are both calmer."

"I don't want to push this aside again, I would like to resolve it now." You tried to calm yourself down slightly despite your words, drawing in a few deep breaths as you waited for your fiancée to respond.

"It is resolved. There is no discussion to be had. There is no other option; we are not going public. No."

You let out a humorless laugh, and Alexia's eyebrows shot up. She did not like to be laughed at.

"You aren't being fair, Alexia. I deserve an explanation for why you are so very ashamed of me, to the point you don't want anyone to know we are together."

Alexia rolled her eyes, not taking your statement seriously. She thought you were just being dramatic, there was no way you really believed that. You did believe it, though and Alexia's complete dismissal in the face of your admitted vulnerability made you furious.

"Jesus, Alexia. Fine. You get your way. As usual. Captain Alexia always gets what she wants." You yelled, throwing yourself down on the couch dramatically and burying your head in your hands. You didn't want to cry while you were fighting with her, and you swallowed the lump in your throat. You knew you weren't being fair, or particularly nice but Alexia had hurt your feelings and she didn't even seem to understand why.

It was dead silent for a full minute before Alexia let out a long, drawn out exhale, and spoke.

"You are being mean. I am going to go to Alba's."

Her words were stiff, clearly communicating how upset she was with you, and you whipped your head up to look at her, watching as she headed towards the door, grabbing her keys. She put her airpods in, but you didn't see her do so.

"Ale? Are you coming back?" You called, voice full of insecurity.

Alexia couldn't hear you, not with her music playing as loud as it was, and she walked out the door without acknowledging that you'd spoken.

You were frozen. This was what you always did; take a small fight and push it so far that the other person finally saw that you weren't worth the trouble. It hadn't happened with Alexia yet because you'd never fought with her. It wasn't enough that she didn't want anyone to know the two of you were together, you had to push her until she didn't want to be with you, period.

You were an over-thinker to your core, and you were convinced, absolutely, that you had just destroyed the most important relationship that you'd ever had. It was hard to breathe, hard to think, the suffocating weight of thinking that the woman you loved was not coming back taking over.

You weren't sure why you were surprised. People left, people always left. Why would this be any different? Alexia was the best person you'd ever known, and she deserved far better than what you could give her, even when you were at your best. Of course Alexia didn't want anyone to know that she was with you. Of course she didn't want you. You had only yourself to blame.

-----

While you sat alone in your apartment, spiraling, Alexia was driving not to her sisters, but to the beach. She needed some peace and quiet to think, which she surely would not find at Alba's.

She just needed to cool down. You were upset, she was upset, and continuing on like you had been would only lead you both to say things you didn't mean. She'd take an hour, calm down, and head home. Alexia had no idea that you had asked her a question before she'd left, had no idea that you were sitting at home, convinced she was done with you.

The longer she was gone, though, the more guilty she felt. She remembered the look on your face when you'd spoken:

"I deserve an explanation for why you are so very ashamed of me, to the point you don't want anyone to know we are together."

She thought you were just trying to make a point at the time, but as she got space from the fight, and from her own anger, she felt less sure about that judgment. You'd looked distraught when you said it. It would explain why you were so very upset with her reluctance to go public, why you were so very upset with her.

Alexia had watched many relationships fall apart once they hit the public eye; some of her own, and some of them, her friend's. She didn't want that. As long as you two kept this to yourselves, allowing your loved ones and teammates to know and no one else, the media couldn't destroy it. That was Alexia's biggest fear; losing you, and having no control over it.

Of course, you were sat at home, practically catatonic, at the thought that you had lost Alexia.

-----

Alexia didn't even make it an hour like she planned. She was parking in the driveway 44 minutes after she'd left, flowers next to her in the front seat, as she tried to figure out if she'd given you enough space to think. She determined that she had, mostly because she couldn't stand leaving things like this any longer, and she fixed her hair in the mirror, tucking the shorter pieces behind her ears in the way she knew you liked, before grabbing the flowers.

When she had left, it was still light out. It was dark, now, and Alexia was surprised when she opened the door and there was not a light on in the house. She panicked slightly, wondering if you'd left, before spotting your silhouette on the couch. Exactly where you'd been when she left. It looked like you hadn't moved, even an inch. The blonde slipped her shoes off, walking cautiously closer to you, flipping on the light.

You didn't make a move, giving her no indication that you knew she was there with you. Alexia could tell you were trembling, and every breath you drew in came with a small, pained whimper. Alexia was more than concerned, now. She dropped the flowers on the table, before crouching down in front of you.

"Mi amor?" She said softly, weary to touch you, not wanting to startle you.

"Hey, amor?" She spoke slightly louder this time. Still, you didn't even twitch. Tentatively, she reached her hand out, letting her hand wrap around your wrist. She was going to try to pull your hand away from your face, but you beat her to it, jumping a foot in the air at her touch, and scrambling backwards.

"It is me, amor, it is just me," Alexia reassured, throwing her hands up in the air, and not moving any closer.

"Ale?" You gasped, as if you couldn't believe that she was here in front of you. You were half convinced you were hallucinating. It felt like 2 minutes had passed, but also like it had been hours since she left.

"It is just me," Alexia repeated, taking a seat on the very edge of the couch. You were still shaking, and Alexia longed to bring you into her arms.

"What are you doing here?" You asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You came back. Why?"

"Why... why would I not come back? This is our home. Ours. Did you not want me here?" Alexia asked insecurely, entirely confused at your reaction. Your eyes were watery, and you bit your lip, shaking your head at her.

"No, I want you here, I... I asked if you were coming back. And you left without answering."

"Qué?" Alexia asked, looking genuinely confused. Alexia couldn't lie to you, and if she'd ignored something you'd said, she'd admit to it.

"Before you walked out the door, I asked if you were coming back." You explained further, although you were already relaxing slightly. Ale was here, she came back.

A look of realization dawned over your girlfriend's face. "I had my headphones in, amor, I did not hear you."

Now that Alexia could see where your mind had started to go, it wasn't hard to piece the rest of it together. It made sense, suddenly, why you were so upset. You'd thought Alexia had left you.

It was only seconds after that revelation that Alexia was reaching across the couch and pulling you into her arms; one wrapped tightly around your back, the other hand lacing through your hair and pushing your face into her neck. You clung tightly to her, melting into her touch.

"I would never leave you. Not today, not tomorrow. Not ever. I wanted to calm down, so we could have a conversation. I should have thought that through, bebé, I am so sorry."

You shook your head against her. "I shouldn't have overreacted, it was just that you were so upset, and we never fight. You're so good, Ale, it's like I'm always waiting for the other shoe to drop, always waiting for you to realize that you can do better. I thought you had, I thought that's why you didn't want anyone to know about us."

Alexia shut her eyes tightly. You'd meant what you'd said earlier, then, and she'd completely dismissed it. She guided you away from her, just a bit, cradling your face in her hands. She brushed your hair back out of your face, pursing her lips as she tried to figure out what to say.

"It was not an overreaction. You thought I ignored you, you thought I was leaving. I know how nervous these things make you, mi amor, I should have been clearer."

"Amor, do you think that I want to keep our relationship private because I am ashamed of you?" When Alexia said the words, it felt ridiculous. You knew it was irrational to feel the way you felt, but at the same time… your fear was all encompassing. You tried to lean away from her, preserve some of your dignity even as more tears slid down your face, but Alexia wouldn't let you. "Hey, no. Tell me, por favor.” 

“You’re you Ale. And I’m just me. I would understand if you didn’t want people to know you were with me, you should be with someone better, prettier,-” 

“Stop.” Alexia said, shaking her head frantically. She looked physically pained at your words. “Stop. You are not allowed to talk about yourself like that. You are mí niña, mí niña perfecta. I am proud that you are mine, everyday. You are the best, you are the prettiest. You are all I need, te prometo que.” The blondes eyes were wide with a desperate need for you to believe her. You wanted to. 

“Then why, Ale? Why don’t you want people to know you’re with me?” You chewed on your bottom lip when Alexia didn’t answer right away, and her thumb reached over to lightly tap it. You released your lip, tightening your grip on your girlfriend, only growing more terrified for her answer as time passed. 

“You are so perfect.” Alexia started, giving you a stern look when you shook your head on instinct. “It’s so easy with you. So easy to love you, so easy to be with you. The media complicates everything, the fans. They would say horrible things to you and about you. As long as no one knows, I can keep you safe. I can keep you mine. Just mine.” 

“Alexia, I’m not worried about that.” You assured her. 

“You should be, mi amor, I am worried about it.” Alexia emphasized, and you only really realized the stress this worry was causing her at that moment. “It would not be the first time the media has ruined a relationship, and I do not think I could survive it if I lost you.” The blonde’s voice cracked at the end of her sentence, and suddenly, she wasn’t holding you anymore, you were holding her. Cradling her face in your hands as you insistently tried to get her watery, hazel eyes to meet yours. 

“Even if the media goes crazy, even if people say mean stuff. I’ll still want you, Ale. It won’t be fun but it’s worth it. If it’s for you? It’s worth it, it’ll always be worth it.” 

Alexia let out a sound that was halfway between a sob and a sigh of relief, burying her face in your neck. Her tears were wet against your skin, her breaths ragged and frantic. “Te amo,” she murmured. “You make me so happy, amor. If you are not worried about the media, then I will try not to be. If you want people to know, then we tell. Whatever you want, whatever you need. As long as you know that I love you, that you are perfect, that you are mine, forever. Para siempre.” 

Now you were crying, and she was still crying, as she gave you a very wet kiss, and it was entirely more emotional than either of you would have liked, but there was nothing to be done. The perfect relationship, you supposed, was one where you each thought the other to be perfect. Even if you didn’t see yourself that way, Alexia would always be there to convince you of your perfection, as you would for her.

-----

[antimonyandthyme]

body swap, for carcar or even landoscarcar?

He wakes up, disoriented. It’s not even light out yet, why the fuck is he awake? His throat’s a little sore, his hips are a little sore. Jeez. Didn’t even bother to put some pants on last night, and did he chafe his ass on like, the sheets or something? Wow. He’s sore all over. A settled, pleasant kind though, a muscle ache too deep for him to reach. Maybe he can skip the gym today, hop on a stream, relax. Grab Carlos for a round of golf before he leaves, if he’s not too busy mapping Monaco on his bike.

He turns to his left. Claps a hand over his mouth, shrieks into it.

Like, he’s groggy. He doesn’t have the remnants of a disaster headache, so he’s not hungover. But it’s early, and he never wakes up early. Must be why he’s hallucinating.

When he can bring himself to look again, Carlos is still there. Close enough that Lando can hear the air whistling softly through his teeth.

Lando shifts uselessly, stares. That’s Carlos, alright. He’s always been a loud sleeper. Back in their McLaren days, when they’d shared hotel rooms, Lando had taken voice recordings to prove to an adamant Carlos that he snored. The memory makes his lips twitch. It’s nice Carlos looks well-rested. Better than he has in awhile. A pretty trophy will do that for you. If he wants, Lando can choose to waste precious time counting Carlos’s lashes while he figures out what to do. He’ll lose count at probably a hundred.

That’s Carlos, alright.

What were they doing last night? Surely Lando would remember. The party was loud, raucous, the Prince of Monaco victorious here at last. All podium finishers present, fourth place included. Drinking, laughing, cozying up to one another. Carlos and Oscar smiling tentatively at each other after sharing just one couch, animosity seemingly forgotten. The prickly itch crawling under Lando’s skin, until Charles finally manages to bag him a set. The music, beats pounding a tattoo into his brain. He remembers all of that.

Surely he would remember taking Carlos’s clothes off. He’s wanted to for—

Lando slaps both hands onto his cheeks, hard enough to sting. He needs to take a leak.

He squeaks out of the bed, as quietly as he can. Trips over a pair of jeans that look vaguely familiar, rams his toe into the wheel of a suitcase that definitely wasn’t there last night. Finds the bathroom, closes the door with a silent snick.

Fumbles around like a dunce for the light switch, right there where all light switches usually are.

Flicks it on. Shrieks for real this time, without his hands to cover the noise.

It’s a good thing Carlos has always slept like the dead. To be absolutely fucking certain, Lando peeks his head out.

Yep, still asleep. That’s Carlos, alright.

Deep, deep breaths. As deep as he can go without passing out. He returns to the mirror. Feels for his face like it’s a foreign object.

Which it is. Because that’s Oscar Piastri, looking right back at him.

--

He means to start off with something useful. Something like, Hey, do you remember what drugs we were on last night? E? Salvia? Because mate, these are the strangest withdrawal symptoms I’ve ever experienced. Or even something funny, like Haha, now I know what you look like naked. The fans are going to have a field day.

Instead, what comes out of his mouth is, “Why are you sleeping with Carlos?”

“Good morning to you too,” Oscar says, after the longest pause on planet fucking earth.

He didn’t mean for that to sound as sulky as he did. But he’s sore all over, and his lips, which are not his, but Oscar’s, feel extremely kissed, and he definitely does not expect that to make something in his chest twist tighter than a coiled spring.

“Aren’t you going to answer?”

“What did we drink last night?” Oscar says, unsurprisingly choosing to be the level-headed one in this conversation.

“Something bright green, something ocean blue. Dunno. Lost track during the set.”

“Lando,” Oscar says patiently, in Lando’s voice. Which is just all kinds of weird. “Something green, something blue, doesn’t sound all that normal.”

“I knew that DJ couldn’t be trusted.”

The world-weary sigh Lando receives makes his skin prickle with heat. Things have been happening. The car’s gotten faster. From his grandmother to the mechanics, everyone’s been talking about a chance he could pull like magic out of thin air. It’s not his fault he wasn’t paying attention. At the club, or to every encounter Carlos and Oscar had prior to this that has led them here.

“Look, I’m gonna—where are you?”

“In Carlos’s room,” Lando says, rudely, unhelpfully.

“Right. I’ll. I’ll be there in. We’re staying just, two blocks away, right? I’ll be there in ten. Could you. Could you please, just—”

Lando expects him to say something totally condescending. Please just don’t freak out. Please just don’t do anything until I get there, because I’m being responsible and you’re being a baby.

“Just, go back?”

“What?”

“Be next to him, when he wakes up?”

Lando swallows. The acid from yesterday must be making his stomach churn. Oscar—in Lando’s fucking voice, sounds smaller and more hopeful than Lando ever wants to hear himself sound.

“I don’t want him to think.” Oscar stops. Lando can practically see him scrubbing at the back of his neck. “I don’t want him to think I left, or anything like that. Could you—”

Lando hangs up.

The earnestness. The, the audacity.

The phone rings again, and Lando hangs up again, out of pure spite. He paces wildly, in front of the mirror. Each time he turns on his heel he imagines his body morphing back into what’s right. Each turn smacks him with the image that Oscar’s pale, freckled skin turns splotchy red when he’s angry.

What. A useful thing. To know.

It’s been half an hour since he’s woken up. Which means, oh fuck. Fuck. Carlos’s body clock has always been impeccable. Eight, on the dot, he springs out of bed like it’s a wonderful thing being alive at that hour, and then goes and makes coffee without fail. Which means in three, two minutes, Carlos will open his eyes. And, and he’ll be alone in bed.

He’ll be alone. That’ll make Lando feel better, right? Carlos will be alone, and then Oscar will no longer be a problem, and then the itch under his skin will disappear, for good.

Carlos will be alone.

He flicks off the light, slips out of the bathroom. Bangs his toe again on that damned suitcase. Slides under the covers, adjusts himself into a position he hopes might be believable. Head on one hand, face tilted toward Carlos. Body leaning, reaching. Always reaching. Eyes half-closed.

But open enough so that he can see the exact moment Carlos wakes. See that small, relieved smile. See the way Carlos clicks his jaw askew, the way he always does before making a decision. Then feel Carlos run the backs of his knuckles against a face he wishes were familiar.

[alchemistc]

out

Tommy waffles over where they're going for drinks, halfway out the bay doors with space between them and the rest of the station, and Howie darts a strange look at him over his shoulder as Tommy wanders towards where their cars are parked.

They decide on Jenny's, even though Monty's is closer to both of their apartments, and it's not until Chim's shoved a third shot in Tommy's face that he darts a calculating glance at Howie.

"I fucked the bartender at Monty's and bounced while he was still in the shower," Tommy announces, to Howie, to the bar, to the world at large. No one except Howie is paying any attention, though.

Howie narrows his eyes. Picks at a coaster and knows he's going to piss off their server by turning into a pulpy mess. "That's how you wanna do it?"

It's -- there have been hints. More recently he'd stopped playing up the ladykiller act, and when he'd blinked at the guy flirting hard at a call three weeks ago, there'd been a distinct redness to his cheeks that he hadn't actually tried to downplay.

"Why me and not Hen?"

Tommy taps two thumbs against the sticky table. Eyes the neck of his bottle of fancy beer. "Why, because she's gay too and we all flock together?"

Howie purses his lips. Tilts his chin. Ends up quirking a brow just to watch Tommy get it. Tommy chuffs a laugh.

"Well shit."

"Kinda disappointed you're not taking this opportunity to confess to the devastating crush you have on me that you always thought was unattainable."

Tommy blinks, and Howie pictures him thinking of where the line between friendly and flirty really is. Howie wouldn't say no is the thing, except he's sort of seeing someone semi-seriously now? Tommy blinks again. "If it was gonna be anyone at the 118 it would have been Eli."

Not Sal? Howie wants to ask, but he bites down on it because that's his own fucked up thing.

"So the new cap must really do it for you," Howie surmises, and Tommy tilts his head back and forth like he's considering it, a little. So: Kind. Fiercely loyal. Little fucked up. Providers.

The rom-com loving quirk takes on a little more meaning in Howie's head.

Howie kicks his shin, and Tommy's smile lines graft across his cheeks. Good god he's gonna make some man so fucking happy, one day. "So, is this a secret I gotta keep? 'Cause I gotta tell you, my track record is not great but I will find a way to do it if you need me to."

"Kinda the reason I told you," Tommy says, and that's kinda that.

---

Chim watches Buck shake Tommy's hand. And then continue to shake his hand. And then... keep shaking his fucking hand.

Eddie gives him a bemused look, and Chim figures he'll let this play out without any interference.

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Closer: cbf!soap x f!reader

Warnings: smut mdni (18+), talks about sex, talks about losing virginity, awkwardness, virgin!reader and virgin!soap, mentions of masturbating, fingering, dry humping, little mention about body insecurity, Johnny is a quick learner

Kind of a long part because I can never make things simple lol also sincerely apologize for the secondhand embarrassment I suffered it myself when I wrote this

“Okay, you need to be honest with me, was the dick good?”

You nearly choked on your lunch. You struggled as you gave your friend an incredulous look, hoping that maybe you hadn’t heard her right.

How did she go from talking about Johnny to sex?

“What?” You asked in a strained voice, drinking water to help your choking.

“No, you cannot tell me that you’ve been friends with this man your entire life, not see him for a whole year, and then when he comes back buff you guys didn’t fuck.” She said and you shook your head.

“We didn’t!” You exclaimed and she gave you skeptical look. “I’m being serious, I mean it’s Johnny. That’s not our relationship.”

“You both kissed each other.”

“That-“

You fumbled your words when she gave you a look. From the outside it looked suspicious but both you and Johnny knew the situation. You were doing each other a favor which was entirely different than what your friend was implying.

“It was different.”

“Sure. When you do end up fucking each other, let me know how it goes.”

You rolled your eyes but soon she was on to the next topic, leaving you thinking a little too hard about what she said.

Was Johnny attractive? Uncomfortably so, but had you ever thought about having sex with him…you would never admit it to anyone especially him but you had thought about it a couple times.

It was always in the heat of the moment, when you were far too in your head during times when you were alone and horny.

But without the curtain of lust and need pulled over your eyes? Never.

You pushed the thoughts away of Johnny and sex, ignoring how the images of him against you made you throb, and focused on something else.

By the time you got back to your dorm, mostly things had settled…until you saw Johnny.

“You’re back!” He hopped up from your bed to great you like a puppy. “I should really sit in class with ya, bored out my mind sitting here.”

“You could go around campus.” You suggested but he scoffed.

“Nah, besides there’s no way back in your room if I left.”

You shook your head and threw your backpack down, tossing your shoes off as well as you found yourself thinking over what your friend said.

“You alright?” Johnny asked softly and you looked at him. “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

“My friend was asking about girl stuff.” You told him vaguely and he narrowed his eyes.

“Girl stuff?”

“Yeah.”

He crossed his arms, giving you an expectant look but you only stared at him.

“Jesus, you act like I didn’t grow up with ya, what kind of girl stuff?” He groaned and you laughed.

You hopped on your bed and he stood in front of you. “You’re nosey.”

“Yeah, so tell me, haven’t spoken to ya all day.”

You were hesitant but he was relentless. It was better to just bite the bullet and tell him so he’d leave it alone.

“She asked me if I had sex.” You said, purposely leaving out the ‘with you’ part for both of your sakes.

Johnny seemed to tense up a little, his face falling ever so slightly before he nodded for you to go on.

“Well have ya?” He wondered but you shook your head. “Really?”

“Don’t say it like that!” You exclaimed, feeling your body warm up with embarrassment.

“Not in a bad way! I just thought…you know.”

You raised an eyebrow but he didn’t elaborate. In fact, he seemed to be getting a little flustered by the subject as well judging by the slight redness on his neck.

Why was it surprising to him? If anyone were to have already had sex it would be him considering his track record of girls fawning over him and now with an exceptional body surely he already slept with multiple girls.

“I don’t know, I just can’t see myself having sex with someone like Carter.” You explained and he scowled when you said his name. “It has to be with someone I trust.”

“I get that.” Johnny sat next to you and you gave him a look.

“Sure.”

“It’s not like I had the time to but I don’t want to sleep around.”

You hummed, surprised just like he was. It made you feel a little better about still being a virgin while in uni because if John MacTavish hadn’t slept with anyone then there was still time to wait.

However that didn’t help the thoughts. Now all you could think about was him, naked and all over you.

“We could…” he began but trailed off.

Your eyes widened and you stared at him incredulously, noticing the way his face had turned a shade darker as he glanced at you.

“We could…?” You repeated as you felt your heart jump to your throat.

“I trust you and you trust me right?” He explained almost frantically. “It’s like our first kiss.”

“This is entirely different, Johnny.”

His face was red and he ran a hand through his Mohawk, tugging at the long strands as he shifted awkwardly on the bed.

“We don’t have to do anything we don’t want to.” He said confidently despite his apparent shyness. “We’re just doing it to get it over with right?”

You couldn’t really think of a retort. You’re not sure if it would mix any feelings you had but if you truly thought about it, you wouldn’t want it to be anyone but Johnny.

You felt safe with him and you knew if you were uncomfortable you could tell him, same for him woth you.

You mulled it over, holding your arms close to your body as you tried to steel your nerves.

“Okay…” you nodded slowly and his head snapped towards you. You gave him an awkward smile and he turned his entire body towards you. “What now?”

“Take off our clothes?” He looked and sounded as clueless as you were.

You pressed your lips together. Even if it was Johnny, you weren’t too keen to take your clothes off and get naked in front of him, especially with how nervous you felt.

He’d seen you in a swimsuit before but that was a while ago and that was entirely different. You weren’t sure if he’d even like you naked especially because you didn’t even shave.

Johnny didn’t move to take his clothes off either and you wondered if he was thinking the same thing.

“This is being really awkward.” You mumbled and he licked his lips.

“Maybe we’re thinking about this all wrong.” He tried to lighten the mood with a smile. “We just need to relax.”

“Yeah, you’re right, we need to relax.”

The awkward silence continued between the two of you and it was getting harder to look at each other. You wanted to crawl under the covers and disappear. Even if you went through with it right now, you knew you wouldn’t enjoy it.

Johnny laid a hand on your knee and you jumped up.

“Let’s just do this another time-“

“Another time, yeah-“

Later, after the nerves died down, the two of you laid in together getting ready to fall asleep. Johnny had you pulled against his chest but you didn’t mind, especially as he watched whatever video you had in your phone. He had his arms wrapped around you and you had your free hand resting on top of his.

You didn’t pay too much attention to him when he moved his hand to hold your hip or when he rested his face closer to your neck, though his warm breath did make you shiver.

It wasn’t until you felt his lips barely press on your neck that you suddenly became aware of him. You tried not to tense up as he kissed your skin softly, your stomach flipping as your breaths got heavier.

Johnny’s hand slipped underneath your shirt and you gasped when he began to palm your breast. His fingertips were rough against your nipples as he pinched them lightly and rubbed them until they hardened while his other hand snaked down to the waistband of your shorts.

“Johnny-“

“Want me to stop?” He hesitated but you shook your head. He pressed a kiss underneath your ears and lightly sucked on the spot. “Open yer legs.”

It was almost laughable how quick you listened to him. There was just something about how low he was speaking, the growl in his voice and the way he touched that set you on fire.

You were wet almost immediately after he began to run his hands across your skin but now your panties had to be soaked.

Johnny moved his hand to your mound and spread your slick folds with his fingers, his chest shuddered as he let out a sigh and he pressed his hard cock against the curve of your ass.

He gathered your slick across his fingers before you found your clit. He moved his fingers rather awkwardly and though you could feel some pleasure from it, it was more uncomfortable than anything.

“Like this.” You grabbed his hand and showed him the movements that felt better.

He didn’t protest but instead listened to you. He began to rub circles on your clit, putting just enough pressure on it and doing it at the right pace that made pleasure race up your spine.

It was entirely different than when you did it. His rough fingers made heat pool in your abdomen quickly and had your heart racing.

“Johnny.” You moaned and he groaned in your ear.

“Shit.” He grunted as he began to grind his cock against you.

He quickened his pace when you tensed up and writhed in his grasp. He continued to kiss any skin he could find, leaving small marks while you stifled your whimpers and moans.

You were rapidly coming close to the edge. You didn’t have the breath to tell him before you dug your nails into his wrist and arched your back.

He didn’t stop until you pulled at his hand but he didn’t pull away. Instead he grabbed your thigh and opened your legs more, pinning it down before he stuck his hand back in your panties.

“Can I put a finger inside?” He asked breathlessly as if he were desperate for it.

“Please-“ You barely got it out before he was slowly slid in a thick finger.

You shuddered and clenched around him, causing him to let out another curse. You gasped when he began to move his finger, your face heating up when you heard the wet noise coming from your cunt, and you tried to close your legs.

Johnny had an iron hold on you however. He kept you spread open while he pump his finger inside you, testing the right amount of pressure and speed while you struggled to breathe.

You hardly had time to come down from your first orgasm and as he added another finger, you found yourself twitching and shaking in his arms again.

It didn’t take long for him to find the spot inside you that had you seeing stars, and once he did he began to abuse it.

You couldn’t stay quiet. Your moans and whimpers mixed with the wet sounds from your cunt as he pumped his fingers in and out at a steady pace. You cried out when he curled them and clawed at his hand when you felt yourself get closer towards the edge.

“You sound so beautiful.” He mumbled in your ear and whined. “Does it feel good?”

You nodded frantically and he continued his ministrations.

It was almost too much. You’d never felt this much pleasure before, never knew he had this in him, but it made sense.

He was the only one you wanted this from, the only one who could probably make you feel this way. You wanted to give him the same treatment, do the same to him but you were so close to the edge again and he seemed content jumping your ass.

Your eyes began to flutter and your clenched around his fingers.

“John!” You choked out and he didn’t stop.

You swear your vision went out as your eyes rolled back. You jolted and your legs shook as he quickly pumped his fingers inside you while you fluttered around them.

He didn’t stop when you tried to push his hand away and your vision blurred with tears. He was whispering sweet nothings in your ear while he kissed your neck.

Johnny only stopped when you told him too and he immediately wrapped his arms around you to pull you as close as he could.

Your chest heaved as you caught your breath, blissed out and mind blank as you clung to his arms. It took a moment for you to regain composure before you looked back at him.

“I…you…” you could hardly speak as you moved your hand to his crotch.

However, he grabbed your wrist and gently held it over your chest.

“I’m fine.” He smiled as he rubbed his hard cock against you again. “Wanna go again?”

You scoffed but didn’t push him away, especially as his free hand tugged at your shorts.

This would do for now

I’m closing the tags because it’s already being hard to keep track of who I need to tag. Sorry! No more tagging

A/n: more smut later on or else this would’ve been long lol

Tags: @elysian0612 @cassiecasluciluce @pepsicolacoochie @hayleybarnesx @tiredmetalenthusiast @misshoneypaper @sodavrr @ghostslittlegf @glitterypirateduck @comeonatmebruh @mandalover2023 @blush-haze @xxshadowbabexx @infpt-zylith @sadsackssss @fandomsfanficsfantasize @tumblingionz

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Not A Verstappen: Lights Out {3}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: You get a glimpse into the future with Charles and Lando as fathers. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, fluff WC: 1.5k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out One || Two || Three || Four

You collapsed breathless on top of Charles and let your eyes fall shut as the heat inside the SUV soared. Steam fogged the windows and the sounds of your boyfriends panting filled the small space. 

Lando hummed as he sat back on his knees and watched his release, and Charles’, leak out from you. “Missed this pretty mess you make when we fill you up.”

“Putain, oui,” Charles agreed with a deeply satisfied chuckle. “Feels amazing.”

They were absolutely right, it did feel amazing - especially when it had been almost a week since you last had sex. It was almost a record, and not one you wanted to break anytime soon.

“We should head back,” you said despite wanting to stay exactly as you were. “We should also buy something so it actually looks like we went out.”

“Pretty sure your mum knows how much you hate shopping, and do you really want to risk being spotted?”

Lando made a fair point and you climbed off Charles so you could pull your panties back up and push your dress back down. Max’s plane would be tracked to the local airport so soon everyone would know where you were hiding. You would rather savour the peace and quiet before the paparazzi started to haunt you.

Once you got to Austin there would be no place to hide.

Sitting in the backyard of the pub, you watched the sun set over the countryside backdrop with bittersweet happiness. Luka was squealing with joy as Charles tossed him high into the air and Lando was sprawled on the grass with Lio and Mila clambering over him. It was like a little glimpse into the future you would have all too soon, but it still didn’t feel real. 

“What are you doing, hiding in the corner?” Max took a seat beside you on the bench and scanned the groups that had broken off from the crowd. You could smell the gin in his drink and took a sip of your lemonade as you longed for your usual drink. It didn’t help Lando had ordered you Sprite No Sugar, you weren’t even allowed that anymore.

“Just thinking.”

“I tried that once, but it didn’t work out well for me,” he joked, nudging you with his shoulder when he didn’t get a response. “What are you thinking about?”

You sighed and shifted to face him. “Were you scared you were going to mess up Penelope?”

“No,” he scoffed. 

“Right, because you are good at everything,” you nodded solemnly. “Stupid question.”

“No, it’s because I’m not her father, and I’m not trying to be her father because she already has one. So it is not the same.” Max looked to where Lando and Charles had moved onto dancing with the kids. It probably wasn’t quite dancing, but they were all hugging each other and gently swaying to the music. “You three are going to be fine. You’ve got the responsible parent, the fun one and the worrier.”

“I don’t really want to know who you think is who,” you chuckled, feeling a little better. But another thought had plagued you and there was only one person you could admit it to without fear of judgement. “This is going to sound terrible, but I wish she was a boy.”

Max’s brows shot up his face. “Why?”

You toyed with the condensation running down your glass, drawing little pictures as you spoke. “What if she wants to race? It’s in her blood but this industry is tough on girls, Max. I don’t want her going through the same bullshit I had to.”

“You’re worrying about something that is at least 15 years away, zusje. A lot can change in that time. Plus, she will have you, her fathers and a scary uncle who have been there to make sure she gets treated right.”

You looked across at the young man struggling to understand the horse-riding terms Flo was talking about. “Arthur’s not that scary.”

You laughed at the indignant sound Max made. “Okay, you’re right, you’re right. I don’t need to worry about that now. I just need to get through the rest of the season watching someone else race my car.”

“Checo’s contract is up next year, maybe Red Bull will beg you to come back?”

Your laughter caught the attention of your boyfriends and they smiled at the sound before making their way over. “Yeah, that ain’t happening, they can beg all they want - I would rather be seatless.”

Max turned serious. “They saw your data, you know, when you used my sim. It was the best time anyone has pulled from the car. It was impressive as hell.”

“Well if you want personal driving lessons I am happy to assist. I’ll even give you a family discount.”

Max snickered in amusement as the seats opposite the bench were taken. “Now that you are once again unemployed.”

“Don’t let her mother hear you say that,” Lando warned, only half joking. “She’s not unemployed.”

“Yeah,” you placed a hand on your stomach. “I have the best job in the world now as a human incubator. Me and Vick can be ladies of leisure together.”

“She prefers the term influencer,” Max corrected sarcastically.

“What’s the difference?” Charles asked.

“There isn’t any. Now will you come and dance?”

You accepted Lando’s hand and followed him to the outdoor lights that had been turned on.

“Nutty!” Mila called as she ambled towards you with grabby hands. 

“So close, sweetie,” you laughed as you dropped Lando’s hand to pick her up. “Aunty. Aunt-tee.”

“Nutty is kind of accurate,” Max teased as he walked past to where Kelly was talking with Vicky. He did pause for a second as he watched you spin around with Mila and blow a raspberry onto her neck making the toddler giggle. “Zusje, you’re gonna be fine.” 

You looked up over the top of her curls that were only a few shades lighter than Lando’s and found sincerity in your brother's eyes. “Thanks, Max.”

A pair of arms encircled you and Charles’ chin came to rest on your shoulder. “My dance partner has been stolen.”

Lando spun past with Penelope in his arms and you kissed Charles’ cheek. “Mila, look at Dodo, he thinks he’s a better dancer than us.”

She narrowed her eyes at her uncle dancing with the four year old and her brows furrowed before she squirmed to be put down. “Oops, I think someone is a little jealous,” Charles chuckled, pulling you into his arms while you watched with amusement as she made Lando pick her up too. “Should we save him?”

“Nah, he’ll need to learn how to deal with two females soon enough.” You placed your head on Charles’ shoulder and followed his lead, swaying gently to the music that probably demanded more energy.

“You seem happier,” he commented softly.

“It’s amazing what a little sex in a secluded forest can do for the soul.”

Charles laughed and kissed your forehead, his smile etched on your skin. “Chérie, what we did could hardly be called ‘little’ but even afterwards you still weren’t…I don’t know what the word is…you seem more like yourself.”

You smiled a little as he stumbled over the words. “I’m getting there.”

“I know you will.” He gave up the pretence of dancing and just held you as Lando extracted himself from the girls and they ran off to their mothers before making his way to join you. “We will make sure of it.”

Lando’s warm body pressed against your back and his arms wrapped around you to hold Charles’ hips. “So I was thinking of names…Tulip.”

“Um, no.”

“Hear me out, it’s kind if Dutch and it’s a flower which is pretty cool-”

“Non, mon cher, keep thinking.”

“Daisy?”

You shook your head and he groaned as he was shut down again. “Daphne?”

It was your turn to groan. “No more Bridgerton for you.”

“Clover?”

You paused and his grin widened. “I’m not opposed to that one, but keep brainstorming.”

“How about Juniper?”

“Daddy, where does my name come from?” you asked in a higher pitched voice as you wrinkled your nose.”Well mummy drank lots and lots of Gin one night and that is how you were made.”

“Oh, right,” Lando laughed awkwardly. “I forgot it’s in Gin.”

“It is a good thing we have time,” Charles hummed, holding you both tighter. “There’s no rush finding the perfect name.”

Lando conceded for the moment and fell silent, and you felt content to stay cocooned until your stomach rumbled louder than the music. Your warmth disappeared as they stepped away laughing. “Come on, love. Dinner should be ready.”

Click here for the next part.

[steddielations]

Eddie’s missing. Steve can’t form a coherent thought beyond: Eddie’s missing, find him. The last few hours, it’s been his every thought, his every action.

There’s never a smooth visit to Hawkins. Eddie’s reputation has only gotten worse in the years since they moved to Chicago. Every time they come back, something goes wrong. But Eddie wanted to spend Wayne’s birthday with him, which also happens to be his mom’s birthday. That’s why he put on Wayne’s Muddy Waters record after a few drinks too many, mumbling, “Doesn’t sound the same.”

One second, Eddie was drunkenly rocking to the music, then he went outside for a smoke and didn’t come back. 

Wayne shouldn’t be out in the cold weather, but nothing could stop him from getting in his pickup to look for Eddie.

Steve’s mind jumps to nightmare conclusions. Eddie still has enemies, maybe they’re finally taking their revenge. Or what if they hadn’t destroyed the gate afterall and something worse took Eddie? Steve’s mind skipped every small explanation, but that detail about Eddie’s mom comes back.

He’s searching backroads and the thought leads him down Philadelphia street. No one goes there anymore, convinced there’s more ‘Munson victims’ buried where Eddie’s childhood home once stood.

Steve sags with relief when he shines the headlights and sees Eddie among the piles of old burned wood.

“Eddie!” Steve’s already jumping out the car, hurrying to him, “Oh God, there you are. What are you doing out here, baby? You okay?”

Eddie doesn’t seem to realize Steve’s there, frantically digging through the rubble. Looking for something.

“Eddie?” Steve reaches him, crouching down next to him, “Hey, what’s going on? Are you hurt?”

Without looking up, Eddie mumbles something like, “Can’t find ‘em.” 

“Can’t find what?” Steve asks, keeping his tone soft despite how worried and confused he is. Eddie doesn’t answer. There’s random cuts and splinters on his hands, covered in dirt and soot but he doesn’t slow down. Steve winces at the sight and reaches for his shoulder, rubbing gently to get his attention. 

“Eddie, look at me, hey. What is it? You can’t find what?”

Finally, Eddie turns to look at him. Though, his stare is a thousand miles away, eyes wide and bloodshot. The headlights show tear tracks through the soot dirtying his face. It’s like he’s in a trance, still mumbling things Steve can’t quite make out. He can smell the beer on Eddie, but he knows this isn’t just from drinking. Eddie gets stuck in his head sometimes, like in the boathouse all those years ago. Reliving nightmares from '86, and things that happened to him long before that too. 

“Her records,” Eddie stresses, “My mom’s records. I left them right here.” 

Steve looks down where he points to nothing but charred, rotting wood. There hasn’t been a house here in years. Steve remembers the fire, everyone said Eddie did it just because he was a ‘no good Munson’. Steve didn’t learn the real story until later. Eddie told him about the records, how they burned in 84 when all his dad’s scheming backfired.

“Eddie…” 

“They were right here!” Eddie interrupts, almost like part of him knows what Steve’s going to say and he doesn’t want to hear it. “I left them right here and now I can’t find them.” 

With a half-choked sob, he turns back to scouring through the rubble.

“Hey, It’s okay.” 

“No it’s not. I gotta find them, Steve, they’re all I have of her,” Eddie strangles out, flinching when Steve’s hand slides behind his shoulders.

Steve swallows down the emotion swelling in his chest. Feeling powerless to really do anything, he says, “Okay, we’ll— we’ll find them. It’s okay.”

That’s the only thing that seems to ease Eddie. Though, the way he slumps seems like he knows it’s not true, but lets himself believe it anyway. Just for the comfort. 

He’s breathing raggedly, shivering in the cold and every sob rattles his body under Steve’s hand. Finally, he lets himself sink fully into Steve, his cold wet nose pressed to Steve’s collarbone.

“S’all I got. Momma’s music,” he keeps repeating as Steve rubs his back, so drunk and so sad, “Gotta get ‘em back. S’all I got left of her.” 

“I know, baby, we’ll find them.” Steve presses kisses into Eddie’s forehead, holding him and rubbing his back. It’s not the truth, Eddie knows that, but he doesn’t need the truth right now. So Steve says it again and again, as long as Eddie needs to hear it. “We’ll find them.”

[mauvecherie-writes]

“hi, it’s nice to meet you.” : k.powers

warnings: none.

note: a good ole’ surprise fic that I wrote in a couple of hours since his video is now a viral TikTok sound 😂. support the page any way you can girlies 😘 like, comment and reblog. this was supposed to be less than a thousand words 🫠.

w.c: 1.2K

It has been two and a half hours since you arrived at the event.

For some reason, the promotors really wanted you to come so they went out of their way of booking you a flight from your city to Sacramento and booking you a very suite at the Kimpton Sawyer Hotel. They had even offered to hire you a private driver but even, a woman who often didn’t say no to free things, declined the offer.

Instead, you had messaged some of your friends who were in the local area who had informed you that they were attending the event so you joined them. The event was a pretty successful one for the community. Celebrities and influencers alike would come from near and far to attend because of the safe environment it had cultured due to their strict rules. The event was a space for lovers and to find lovers, consent was heavily promoted and had security constantly surveying the space and the biggest thing you loved when the flyer was sent to you was the insistence to use your phone less and just be present in the moment.

The event, SweetOne, was working to bring back the clubbing culture of the old days with their own modern twist to it. An event where egos were left at the door and people met each other on a human level to connect. You were enticed by that (the $13,000 check for your promotion to your 8.9 million audience and appearance for the night was also a little push.)

So here you were, engrossed within the atmosphere as your body swayed to Body Party by Ciara as your friends cheered you on. The liquor had sunk deep into your veins and you were really letting loose for the first time in a long time. Your sultry black and gold mini halter dress sat on your curves, adding onto the sensuality of your impromptu performance. The bangs of your curled silk press fell over your eyes like a curtain as you sang along to the erotic lyrics.

“Woooo! You go girl!” Your friend, Nikki cheered you on as she recorded you. You turned around and held onto the bars that had been a supporting act to your dance. With your hands on either side of you, your hips swayed side to side.

“My body is calling you.” You sang as your eyes opened and by chance, met the ones that had been tracking your movements all night. Behind the brim of his cup, he was intently watching you with a dark glint in his eyes that amused you.

Your glossed lips curled into a smirk as you turned away from the handsome man and then you brought your performance to a close with your friends shouting for an encore.

“Next performance comes with a charge.” You winked at them as you stepped away from the edge of the section.

When you sat down, you couldn’t shake the vision of him watching you. He was a sight, himself. Chocolate brown skin with dark freckles scattered across his cheeks, a neatly trimmed anchor style beard sitting on the sharpest jawline you’d ever seen with your own eyes. It was too dim to see his haircut but you knew that his hair was short. You were also digging the way that was dressed. The light grey sweater snuggly fit around his long torso, highlighting his muscles.

The thing that captured your attention the most were his naturally pink tainted lips, that he seemed to lick very often. God, you were smitten and you had not shared one word with the man.

“Excuse me?” Your attention was called out of your thoughts and you snapped up to meet the eye contact of a server.

“Yes?” You enquired.

“The gentleman from across the room bought you this drink as a thank you for the performance.” The server said. Your cheeks warmly flushed before you scanned the room and met his eyes yet again. He slightly nodded his head and gave you a slight wink. You turned back to the server with a smile.

“Can you go back to the gentleman and tell him I’ll humbly accept his thanks if he brings the drink himself.”

The server smiled, nodded and then left. You eyeballed them as they walked across the room and back to him. They spoke, he bent down to get closer to hear the server speak. He was tall … even more interesting.

Then, he took the drink from the tray and began walking towards where you were. You took a deep breath as his height became more apparent.

“Hi.” The richness of his deep voice vibrated through you and settled in the pit of your stomach. You were fucked - you were a sucker for a good voice.

“Hi.” You breathlessly smiled up at him as you crossed your legs, putting your carved legs on display to his ravenous eyes.

“You said you wouldn’t accept this drink unless I brought it myself.”

“Mhm.” You nodded your head as you held eye contact, hoping to not let your attraction seep into your actions. “We’ve been tip-toeing around each other for most of the night. Someone had to make a move.”

He grinned and his white teeth shone at you. “I’m a little disheartened that it had to be you to make a move but I like your boldness. I like it a lot.”

“So, sit with me then.” You scooted a bit to the side, opening a space beside yourself. He placed the drink on the table in front of you and then sat down. That’s when you truly took in the beauty of this man. From his full yet neat eyebrows, his tapered sides and most importantly, just how pink his lips were up close.

“That was quite the performance you put.” He commented. And despite the shyness threatening to grip your senses, you rolled your eyes - downplaying the intention of your actions.

“It was nothing. I was just feeling the music that’s all.” You shrugged your shoulders as you reached for the drink he had purchased for you - a French 75.

“Your sentence seems to imply that you could do more than what you gave right now.” His eyebrow inquisitively raised up.

“Well, we’d need to at least be exclusive for that kind of performance.” You boldly stated as your body turned with your legs leaning towards his body. He let out a one syllable laugh as his head fell backwards. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. The length of his neck would be perfect beneath your fingers …

“So how do we get to that stage then?” He brought his head forward and turned to face you.

“Well, you can start by telling me your name.” He brought his hand forward, outreached for you to shake.

“Hi, I’m Keith. Nice to meet you.” You took his hand into yours and you couldn’t help but notice the difference and a shiver ran down your spine.

“Nice to meet you Keith. I’m YN.” You replied as you gazed upon his face. As he met your stare, the dark glint of desire was back with a touch of promise for more in them …

And your body and mind would be readily accepting of that.

————————————

reading list: @queenshikongo3 @dhlfastestlap @saintslewis @serpenttines-library @saturnville @hopefulromantic1 @cocobutterqwueen @bluesole16 @chaneajoyyy @emjayewrites @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @sapphireheaven @olyvoyl @lewisroscoelove @lh44adore @hellomadamebutterfly @scorpiobleue @qveenmelanink @tremendousstarlighttragedy @bekindbecoolbeyou @greedyjudge2 @itsapurrfectstorm @createdbylivingclocks @samiwzx @omgsuperstarg @peyiswriting @miyuhpapayuh @blowmymbackout @purplelewlew @henneseyhoe @perfecttrashface

[cakesunflower]

lovelorn (and nobody knows) [rafe cameron au fic] chapter 8

Summary: Isla Carrera had planned for the summer before college to be focused on three things: helping out at her family’s restaurant (the helpful daughter), preparing for college (the good student), and having fun with the Pogues (the loyal friend). But one fateful night, where her car breaks down and her rescuer is none other than Rafe Cameron, seems to send her summer down a path she didn’t see coming–one teeming with a secret, illicit romance with the last person she expected. And if her friends and sister found out, Isla isn’t sure they’ll be so understanding, no matter what her feelings are.

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

A/N: Slightly shorter chap, but I promise the next one makes it worth it hehehe

The sun is bright in the cloudless sky above, the occasional seagull soaring and squawking by. With sunglasses covering her eyes, Isla gets away with gazing absently at the sky, the sounds of her friends around her bleeding into the background as she basks in the warmth of the sunlight, letting out a breath. Except Isla can’t bring herself to enjoy much of anything, at the moment, because her mind has been preoccupied with her conversation with Rafe back at the country club. It settles in her stomach like a rock, unmoving and sending a bad taste to her mouth, and she knows the only way to make it better is to talk to Rafe and apologize to him.

As expected, when she and JJ showed up to the Chateau, their friends had been indignant at the sight of his black eye, demanding to know what happened. To Isla’s secret relief, JJ had told them the truth about his dad, but she did note the hint of shame that weighed his tone when he spoke. She hates that he feels as though he needs to be ashamed of the abuse he suffers from because of Luke, and more than anything, Isla hates Luke for laying a finger on JJ. Anytime he gets hurt at the hands of his dad, JJ just laughs or brushes it off, never wanting his friends to worry. But they’re family, more than they are friends, and of course Isla and the others are pissed on his behalf. There’s a reason JJ has his own room in the Chateau. JJ is a lot of things, but he will never be abandoned by his friends.

And Isla is certain if she ever lays eyes on Luke Maybank again, she’s going to call the cops on the spot.

Sighing, Isla props herself up on her elbow, grabbing the can of beer sitting on the floor of the boat and taking a long sip of the cool drink. Pope sits at the front of the boat, reading, while the others are in the water, swimming around the boat.

She lays back down, the surface warm under her back, loosening another breath as she lets her eyes fall shut. Except Pope suddenly says, “That’s the third time you’ve sighed in two minutes.”

Isla raises herself up on her elbows again, arching an eyebrow at him. “Why are you keeping track of my sighs?” she counters.

“Why is your vibe so melancholy?” Pope shoots back without hesitation, pulling a glare from Isla. He puts his book down on his lap, the brim of his cap shielding his eyes from the sun. “Seriously. You’ve been a little off since you got here. Everything good?”

Isla’s chest tightens because she knows Pope means well, but she also knows she definitely can’t tell him about why she’s been so in her head. Her lips part, trying to think of something. “I—”

“Is it because of Luke?” Pope carries on, not hearing her, but it’s the perfect excuse for Isla to latch onto—especially because it’s partially true, anyway.

“Yeah,” she nods, clearing her throat lightly as she sits up, back to the water as she leans down to grab her beer. 

Pope shakes his head, his gaze drifting towards the water. She follows his gaze to watch JJ, Kie, John B, and Sarah playing chicken in the water as Cleo both referees and records it on Sarah’s small pink digital camera. “Is it too much to ask for him to disappear out of JJ’s life for good?” Pope mutters as they watch the grin spread on JJ’s face, his hands gripping Kie’s thighs as she sits on his shoulders.

“Probably,” Isla mumbles into her next sip of beer, her gaze dropping to her phone sitting next to her.

Her fingers itch to reach for it, to send a message to Rafe. But what could she even say? I’m sorry for assuming you punched one of my best friends? She is sorry, but from the way Rafe had looked at her—with disappointment, hurt, and maybe even a little resignation—Isla has a feeling that simply words weren’t going to work. With the way her and Rafe’s relationship was rapidly changing—hell, from going to being nonexistent to whatever it is now—it never should’ve even been a thought to cross her mind. But it was, and she feels guilty about it and makes a mess of her already befuddled feelings.

One thing is for sure: Isla doesn’t want this budding change between her and Rafe to be ended before it even has the chance to begin.

“Hey—don’t stress out about it,” Pope says, cutting into her thoughts. His words have her blinking rapidly behind her sunglasses, bewildered, before quickly realizing he is, of course, talking about JJ and his dad. Because that’s what Pope thinks is bothering her. Pope shoots her a smile. “JJ’ll be alright. He’s got us, right?”

Isla smiles, somehow both forced yet not. “Right,” she agrees, and it might be the only purely honest thing she’s said in this conversation that doesn’t have a braid of lies hidden underneath.

Because, of course, her situation with Rafe isn’t one she can talk about with any of her friends. This is one problem she’s going to have to solve on her own. 

Finishing the rest of her beer, Isla gets up and walks to the other end of the boat, opposite of Pope, and steps up on the ledge. The water glitters under the afternoon sun and a second later, Isla dives in, the water blissfully cool against her skin as she is submerged.

When Isla breaks through the surface with a gasp, she wipes the water away from her face, slicking her wet hair back as she stays afloat under the warm sun. Unfortunately, the cooling dip did nothing to wash away the thoughts of Rafe and how she no doubt upset him, and Isla sighs as she floats on her back, arms treading water as she slips her eyes shut. 

All she sees is the hurt in Rafe’s eyes, and Isla knows she needs to figure out how to make things better sooner rather than later. 

*****

Isla fiddles with the thin chain of the gold bracelet around her wrist as her mom’s SUV pulls into the parking lot of the country club, tall lamps illuminating the area under the night sky. The blast of the air condition raises goosebumps on her arms, the skin exposed due to the gown she has on. It’s satin, like Kie’s, except while Kie’s is a pale lavender with spaghetti straps, Isla’s is a dusty pink with a sweetheart neckline and is off the shoulders, the thick straps hanging around her biceps, and a slit going up her right leg. And while Kie’s hair is done up and a flower crown adorns her head, Isla’s hair is styled down in waves, locks of hair threaded together in a braid to pull them back behind her head with tiny white daisies woven into them.

It had taken her and Kie a few hours to get ready for Midsummers, but while Kie had bemoaned looking like a bourgeoisie pig, Isla had quite liked what she saw when she looked in the mirror. For the first time in a few days, she actually felt good and her sister’s hatred of Midsummers wasn’t going to dampen her mood. 

Because for the past couple of days, Isla hasn’t gotten the chance to talk to Rafe, and that had fucked with her mood more than she had expected it to. Her messages to him remained unread, and she hasn’t seen him around that much, either, over the course of the last few days. The whole situation is strange because, God, only a little while ago if she had insulted Rafe, she wouldn’t necessarily care; she definitely wouldn’t lose sleep over it. But embarrassment and guilt constantly have her up in knots, unsure of what to say to Rafe other than apologize to him. Which she has, multiple times, in their messages, but he hasn’t responded. 

Isla hopes that he’s going to be at Midsummers tonight and somehow, someway, with Kie and Sarah and Pope all there, she can find a way to get Rafe alone and talk to him. Face to face, so he can’t ignore her.

The back garden area of the club is decorated beautifully for Midsummers, with string lights illuminating the place, waiters wandering around holding trays of flutes of champagne, and a live band set up on the side playing music that doesn’t overwhelm the atmosphere. The first half an hour or so is spent mingling with the other guests while Isla’s eyes keep darting around in search of Rafe yet never catching sight of him, disappointingly enough.

Even when they meet with the Camerons, it’s only Sarah, her dad, and step-mom that Isla sees, and she tries not to frown too obviously at the fact that Rafe is still missing. Holy hell, why is it so difficult to track him down when she needs to? They’ve been constantly running into each other, and the one time she needs to talk to him, he’s nowhere to be seen. Frustration mounts, but Isla pastes a smile onto her face, even when Kie grabs hers and Sarah’s arms and pulls them along to go to Pope.

The grass is soft beneath Isla’s heels as she lets her sister pull her, though that doesn’t keep her gaze from wandering, searching. “Don’t you three look snazzy,” Pope comments once they get to where he’s standing, grinning at them.

Kie’s face scrunches. “We look like sacrificial pigs,” she drolls with a roll of her eyes.

Trying to focus on the conversation, Isla bumps Kie’s hip with her own and says, “We do look snazzy, shush.”

“And it’s the one time we can drink without our parents giving us shit for it,” Sarah adds with a twinkle in her eye, grinning.

“Speaking of which. . .” Pope says, smiling as he looks over their shoulders.

Isla and the girls turn, watching JJ approach them in a classy waiter uniform that he no doubt refers to as a penguin suit, carrying a round tray of champagne flutes. Despite his own Kook related irritation, JJ grins, his bruises fading, and holds the tray out. “Drinks for the ladies?”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Isla mutters, taking one of the glasses and immediately taking a long sip, only becoming aware of her friends’ surprised and amused expressions when she pulls the glass away from her lips. “What?” she asks, slightly defensive.

Pope arches an eyebrow. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Isla says with a laugh, hoping it doesn’t sound as forced as it feels. “Just here to enjoy the night.”

“This feels so pretentious,” Kie remarks, eyeing the glass she holds in her hand.

Isla rolls her eyes. “Just enjoy the free alcohol, Kie,” she says, her patience wearing thin as she takes another sip.

Fortunately, her sister merely shrugs and drinks as prompted. The group of them stand and chat for a few minutes, before JJ has to get back to work and Pope’s dad returns and they need to work on the oysters. Isla sticks with Kie and Sarah for the most part, more often than not tuning out of their conversation as she searches for Rafe. She can’t help it, and it’s driving her crazy. Part of her wonders if Rafe is pointedly ignoring her, which she wouldn’t blame him for. But then the other part tells herself she’s likely giving herself too much significance in Rafe’s life. Maybe the reason he hasn’t talked to her is because he doesn’t want to; maybe he already grew bored of whatever the hell had been brewing between them and moved on.

Admittedly, the thought of that makes a knot form in the middle of Isla’s chest, her grip on her emptying champagne glass tightening in response. A pit of dread even forms in the bottom of her stomach, like she is on the verge of losing something that’s slipping through her fingers too quickly. There’s a nagging voice in the back of Isla’s mind telling her to let it go, that cutting off whatever had been happening between her and Rafe at the legs, before it even had a chance to begin, is the right call. Less complicated when it comes to her friends. 

And yet, the idea of it leaves a bitter taste in Isla’s mouth.

As she finishes off her champagne, her gaze catches on some people walking out onto the porch across the dancefloor, and the breath hitches in Isla’s throat when she finally spots Rafe. He’s dressed in a summery, beige suit with a white button down underneath, a no doubt expensive watch on his wrist as he chats with Topper and Kelce. Rafe leans one elbow against the porch railing, holding a glass, and it’s as though in that moment, he can feel Isla’s gaze on him, because his head turns just so until their eyes lock across the way.

Isla’s heart launches itself to her throat as she watches him watch her and even from where she stands, she sees that mask of his break. The indifference cracks for a split second, but her sharp eyes catch it, the way his gaze softens and lips part before he forces himself to school his features. But Isla caught it. Even from where she stands, with all of these people in between them, she caught it, because it’s impossible to look away from him. And she has been thinking about him too much, these last few days, to not take note of every single detail about him.

She watches as he opens his mouth, free hand reaching up to massage his jaw as he cuts his gaze away from her, but Isla can see the sudden rigidness of his shoulders. Seeing her is having some kind of effect on him, possibly the same effect seeing him is having on her, and she knows that without a doubt, she is going to find some way to get them alone so she can talk to him.

Because there is a truth that dances on the tip of her tongue, and the first person Isla wants to admit it to is Rafe, not even herself. He is, after all, the first one who should hear it.

Isla knows it’s not going to be easy to try and find a moment alone with him—not with her friends, and his, around. She’ll need to find the right opportunity, and hope that he isn’t intent on avoiding her.

[crushmeeren]

♡ Master List Link

♡ Gojo / Fem Reader

♡ Warnings; age gap (you’re 24, Gojo is 40), major daddy kink, praise kink, vaginal sex, anal sex,

♡ Note; God, I hate myself for writing this. Alas, I couldn’t help it. It’s probably about 1000 ish words? It’s an AU where Gojo is the definition of a single DILF and you’re his new babysitter.

When you first got recommended to babysit for Gojo Satoru, you thought nothing of it. You needed the money and you had a great track record with other families and there was no obvious reason to decline. Plus, you’d heard nothing but good things about the man in the circle of moms, but you’d never met him yourself.

You never paid attention to the gossip of how beautiful he is, brushing it off as exaggeration of bored housewives and truthfully it didn’t matter to you either way. The only thing that felt a smidge out of place was being informed that Gojo is a single dad.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that inherently,you just routinely deal with the mothers. Whatever, no skin off your back, it’d be fine. A decent change of pace.

To your immense satisfaction, it was. It is. Gojo has the most wonderful four year old little boy, Megumi. You love that kid as if he’s your own and he adores you.

However, the moms were clearly not being dramatic. Gojo is, to your disdain, angelic. The way his snow white hair frames his face, how his eyes are as crystal blue as the ocean and not to mention he’s tall as a mountain. To put it plainly, you were fucked.

You weren’t surprised when your thoughts abruptly turned down a sexual path. Hell, he’s a DILF if there ever was one. You couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty, you’re not here to lust after your boss, this is your job.

You used every fiber of your being, every ounce of willpower to try and squash those thoughts and lock them away never to see daylight again.

Nevertheless you couldn’t get used to his god like stature. You’re embarrassed to admit it was made infinitely worse by the fact that he’s pushing forty, and you’re only twenty four.

When you gained that piece of helpful knowledge, your stomach burned. You weren’t able to meet his eyes for a week.

It’s not your fault you have a fucking daddy kink.

And so, after almost a year of your pathetic, overwhelming pining for the man, your heart dropped to your stomach when you found out Gojo harbored similar fantasies for you.

He had invited you stay late one night after Megumi had gone to sleep. He told you he wanted to watch a movie, drink some wine and relax. You had agreed because you’re well past the point of friends now and it was the weekend, so what would be the harm?

The two of you had drank enough wine to loosen your lips. It wasn’t enough to become sloppy, but it was just the right amount for the lines of what’s appropriate to blur. So much so that you started calling him Satoru and flushing every time you did.

It was enough for Satoru to drunkenly admit he’s been lusting after you for months. For him to almost forget he was telling his deep dark secret to the person it conveniently was about.

You sat side by side on his fluffly couch, thighs pressed together. Your head got fuzzy and his was the same. Satoru had his let his head drop onto the backrest with a thunk, pretty eyes closed off from the world while you admired how sinfully long and lean his legs really were.

“I’m a terrible person,” he mumbled out of nowhere, brows pinching as he kept his eyes shut. You hummed in question, focusing intently on his snowy eyelashes. “I think, no I know I have feelings for you. I should feel guiltier than I do for wanting to have sex with someone so much younger than me, but I don’t,” he said with an airy sigh, shifting his head and snapping his eyes open to gaze at you.

Warmth instantly curled in your lower belly and your eyebrows shot up to your hairline. An involuntary flash of arousal blistered through your limbs and left you to unsubtly clench your thighs.

It was too easy to admit that you felt the same way, to admit you had touched yourself thinking about him. Your body went white hot when Satoru leaned in too close. You’d turned your gaze away and Satoru giggled at the shy action.

“You’re so cute!” He gushed. “Don’t worry baby girl, I stroke my cock daydreaming about how your pussy would feel around me. About how much I could show you. I bet you don’t have that much experience do you sweetheart?” Satoru taunted, wolfish grin on his lips.

You shook your head no, shifting your weight when he trailed the soft pads of his fingers over the sensitive crease of your elbow and tickled the underside of your bicep. The heady tension between you became unbearable.

You’re not sure who leaned in first for the kiss, you’re only aware that now you’re occupying Satoru’s bed, wine long forgotten. You’ve both lost your clothes along the way and you’re tangled in his blankets.

Satoru presses a large, sweaty hand over your mouth to try and keep your whines at bay as you desperately try not to wake up Megumi while Satoru urges you to ride his cock.

Satoru reclines on the headboard, keeping his knees bent and feet planted so his thighs act as a cradle for you to rock against.

The jerk is making you put in the work for your third orgasm, thighs burning as you chase your high. He was eating your pussy not even five minutes ago and now you’re bouncing in his lap.

Satoru starts to trail his free hand down your spine, following the knobs of bone down to the crease of your ass.

A startled cry of his name presses into his palm when he gently pushes the pad of his pointer finger against the pink, taught skin of your asshole. The unfamiliar sensation causes your movements to falter.

Satoru’s eyes light up, as if he’s just tried a new sweet and loved it. He tilts his head at your reaction, shaking it condescendingly, tsking at you when you stop moving.

“That’s not the right name, is it princess?” He teases, applying more pressure to your rim. Your eyes flutter shut and you shake your head no, a low moan escaping you. “Tell me what it is,” he demands, blue eyes piercing as he removes his hand from your mouth so you can answer.

“Daddy,” you murmur, nails biting into his shoulders while he continues to loosen the ring of muscle. You’ve come to a stand still in his lap, unused to having your ass played with.

“That’s it, what a good girl for daddy,” Satoru purrs. “Say babygirl, has anyone ever fucked your ass?” He muses, raising one eyebrow and biting the tip of his tongue.

“No daddy.”

His cock twitches in response.

“You gonna let daddy be the first one?” He presses harder on your rim, the tip of his finger sinking in. You yelp, tensing slightly. “I swear daddy will make you cum like you wouldn’t believe.”

You’re quite anxious about the pain, but ultimately you trust Satoru. You nod your head, happy to give him this first. He grins as if he’s going to eat you alive, the hand not in your ass squeezing your waist harshly.

Quickly Satoru helps you out of his lap, manhandling you until your cheek rests on the sheets and your ass is in the air. Satoru steps off the bed to grab lube from nearby.

Your belly fills with butterflies, pussy clenching when you admire the way he moves. He’s tall, lean, and gut wrenchingly beautiful.

He’s looming behind you before you can even register it, rubbing your lower back comfortingly as he delicately slips one lubed finger past the tight ring of muscle.

Your breath hitches, fingers curling around the sheets shakily. It’s uncomfortable and Satoru soothes you with encouraging words.

“Shh, it’s okay baby girl, I promise it’s going to get so much better.” He pumps his finger in and out until you relax. You take a deep, steadying breath, releasing it as Satoru eases his middle finger in alongside the first, all the way to his knuckle.

“Daddy!” You cry out, forgetting to be quiet. The stretch is overwhelming, a terrible mixture of a dull ache and barely there pleasure.

Satoru bends over your back, tangling his fingers in your hair and shoving your face into the mattress.

“Hush,” he admonishes you, scissoring his fingers in a warning. You nod quietly, close to sobbing into the mattress below. He hums in approval, releasing your hair as you keep yourself muzzled.

You don’t even notice the third finger and after a few minutes of stretching your rim to his satisfaction, the pleasure starts to drown out the pain.

You protest when he finally decides to pull his fingers out, the empty sensation almost unbearable now. Satoru chuckles, lining himself up.

“Don’t tell me you’re whining now, after all that complaining you did?” He teases, rubbing his tip over your soft, warm skin. You fold your arms under your head, resting there and ignoring him.

It doesn’t phase Satoru. He grips the base of his shaft and applies increasing pressure until the tip pops past your rim. The initial sharp sting makes you tense up, before relaxing as it fades to a dull ache.

Satoru produces a twisted version of a whine, carving a space in your ass until his curly white pubic hair brushes your skin.

“Okay?” Satoru asks, panting lightly and petting your lower back, straining with the effort to stay still.

“I’m okay,” you reassure him, even if you’re not completely sure you are. You start to clench rhythmically around the thick cock splitting you, involuntarily trying to get him out of you.

Satoru sucks in a breath through his teeth. He’s lightheaded from the pleasure, feeling like all the blood in his body is currently in his cock.

Satoru holds your hips, starting with a teasing backwards pull until only his tip remains. He smoothly pushes all the way in and repeats that steady motion until it suddenly clicks in your mind.

The pleasure from anal sex is divine, absolutely brain melting as he rocks his hips back and forth, creating a smoother, faster paced rhythm. It’s intense, unlike anything you’ve ever felt before.

A warmth burns violently behind your navel, as if you’ve never felt pleasurebefore. It’s so fucking good, you immediately know you’ll be addicted to it.

“Daddy,” you can’t help but moan. You’re still attempting to be quiet, but it’s proving impossible. You want Satoru’s attention.

“What baby?” He asks breathlessly. He moans as he watches his cock disappear into your puffy rim while he waits for your answer.

“I’m gonna cum,” you warn him, stifling your moans into the sheets as they increase in volume. Satoru laughs meanly behind you, but he thrusts harder at your words.

“Already?” He questions incredulously. “That was fast.” He sounds smug, tilting his hips so he’s hitting your g-spot through the thin wall separating him from your pussy.

Your pulse thunders in your ears, going silent as your orgasm shakes you to your core. The blood in your veins thrums at a dizzying pace. You feel all the thoughts in your head fizzle out to pinpoint on the pleasure as Satoru fucks you through it.

“Oh god. Yes, fuck — just like that,” Satoru snarls through clenched teeth, spanking you harshly.

Your thighs start to shake when Satoru doesn’t let up in his pace, but you’re starting to float down from your highand you’re getting overstimulated.

“Satoru,” you gasp, trying not to scream as he chases his own orgasm. “I can’t take much more,” you plead, trying to move forward. He just giggles, gripping your hips and pulling you back into his thrusts, he knows you don’t mean it.

“Just a little longer princess,” he coos, voice wrecked. You nod, taking deep breaths that rattle your chest.

Satoru throws all his weight into the next few thrusts, forcing a wail out of you that neither of you pay any mind to.

“Fuck fuck fuck, you’re gonna make me cum,” Satoru whines, yanking his cock out of you, causing your rim to clench painfully around air.

He fists his cock twice before he lets out a strangled sound. You feel the long ribbons of warm cum all over your back, some even reaching up to your shoulder blades.

Satoru lets go of his cock and sits back on his heels, breathing heavily as he calms his heart rate. He reaches forward and tugs your legs out from under you so you can collapse onto your belly.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt so satiated in your life. Every inch of you feels like jello.

Neither of you speak for a moment, soaking up the silence as you collect your thoughts. You still can’t breathe yet.

Eventually, Satoru pats your ass twice before rising and hunting down a damp wash cloth to clean you with. You lay there limp as he wipes away the mess he made of you.

He pokes your rib playfully when you don’t move a muscle. Twitching, you open one eye to look at him.

“Did I fuck your brains out?” He teases, giggling. You hum in affirmation, nodding your head. He laughs out loud this time, head tilting backwards.

A soft knock on Satoru’s door makes the two of you jump two feet off the bed. Your heart skips a beat as you raise up to sit on your knees.

“Daddy?” Megumi’s tiny voice calls out softly. “Are you in there?” You and Satoru share a panicked look. Thank God you locked the door.

“What is it my love? Are you okay?” Satoru calls out fondly. You’re shocked he’s able to keep a steady voice.

“Come lay with me daddy, I had a bad dream,” Megumi whines, little sniffles coming through the door. His sad voice makes your heart squeezes in your chest. Satoru’s eyebrows scrunch in concern.

“I’m sorry you had a bad dream Gumi, I’ll be there in a second to lay with you bubba, go lay back down,” Satoru soothes.

“Mkay.” Megumi’s soft footsteps fade away as he returns to his room. Satoru looks at you guiltily, but you give him a sweet smile.

“Go, it’s okay. Poor Gumi, I hope we didn’t wake him,” you whisper. Satoru gazes at you as if he’s in love, leaning forward and kissing your forehead.

“I’ll be back, then we have to discuss how to tell Megumi we’re dating tomorrow. He’s gonna be surprised to see you so early.” Satoru pulls on a pair of loose sweats as he speaks, heading towards his door.

Something warm and sweet settles in your heart knowing that Satoru already assumes you’re dating. Not as if you have any complaints about that.

You watch the door shut behind him and you shift around, pulling on the t-shirt Satoru was wearing. You snuggle up under his sheets and promptly pass out.

You sleep peacefully knowing Satoru will return soon to wrap you up and hold you tight.

[midchelle]

I was looking through my drafts and found this compilation of quotes I put together of Beatle girls talking about other Beatle girls. It's probably not totally comprehensive, but I thought some people might find it interesting.

Cyn + Mo

Far from being a shy little thing, Maureen was talkative, full of laughter and great fun: we all liked her enormously and thought she was good for Ringo.

All of the Beatles’ women got on with each other, but Maureen, who was one of the most down-to-earth, honest people I ever knew, became my closest friend. After their son Zak was born in September, seven months after the wedding, she and I used to go up to Knightsbridge to shop. Anthony would drop us off and we’d do the rounds of Harrods, Harvey Nichols and the designer shops in between, then stop for lunch in a smart little bistro. We’d buy cute little outfits for our sons and we were always on the lookout for something different or special for the men. We loved to surprise them with a psychedelic shirt, a piece of ethnic jewellery, or I would buy John a new plectrum for his guitar. John always loved prezzies, as he called them. No matter how small they were, he’d be delighted and I loved looking for things to surprise him. Much as Maureen and I enjoyed our outings, she always made sure she was at home for Ringo when he came in. Such was her devotion to him that she would stay up sometimes until four in the morning to greet him with a home-cooked meal. She wanted him to feel loved and cared for and, like me, she had been brought up in a family where women did the caring and nurturing while men provided. We often went over to their house and hung out with them, it was always party time at the Starkeys’. Ringo was gregarious and fun-loving, a clown and a joker with an infectious laugh. Together, he and Maureen made an irresistible double act, both extrovert and uninhibited. Ringo had installed a replica pub in their front room, which he called the Flying Cow. It had a counter and till, tankards, mirrored walls and even a pool table. He’d nip behind the bar to serve us all drinks, while Maureen supplied us with endless plates of food. It was a cosy, comfortable house with what felt like the ultimate luxury at the time: a TV – usually switched on – in every room. They had large grounds, in which Ringo had built in a go-kart track. He and John would race the go-karts or play pool while Maureen and I chatted over a cup of tea or took Zak and Julian for a walk. Ringo’s other passion was making his own short films. He had lots of equipment and loved to experiment, so after the nanny had taken over Zak and Julian we’d watch his latest movie. One was a fifteen-minute study of Maureen’s face. Innovative, perhaps, but not the most riveting entertainment.

Cynthia Lennon, John

Cyn + Jane

Jane was different from the girls Paul had been out with previously. The daughter of a psychiatrist father and a music-teacher mother, she was highly intelligent and cultured. She had a strong inner confidence, with a maturity and grace way beyond her years.

Paul stayed for a while. He told me that John was bringing Yoko to recording sessions, which he, George and Ringo hated. Paul had broken up with Jane Asher a couple of weeks after John had left me. I was sorry because I’d really liked Jane.

Cynthia Lennon, John

Cyn + Pattie

I liked Cynthia, but of all the Beatle wives and girlfriends I found her the most difficult to make friends with. She and I came from such different backgrounds; she had no career, she was a young mother, and we had no point of reference apart from our attachment to a Beatle. She wasn’t like my friends, who enjoyed a giggle and some fun: she was rather serious, and often, I thought, behaved more like John’s mother than his wife. I tended to leave her to her own devices but invited her to join me for shopping. I think she felt a bit out of her depth in the smart, sophisticated circles in which the Beatles were now moving in London. And I don’t think it helped that John thought I looked like Brigitte Bardot, or that I got on so well with him. There was a rumor—I don’t know where it came from—that John and I had an affair, and I suppose Cynthia may have believed there was something in it. It was completely untrue: we never had an affair. I wouldn’t have dreamed of it and neither, I am sure, would John.

Pattie Boyd, Wonderful Tonight: George Harrison, Eric Clapton, and Me 

Meanwhile George, who had just turned twenty-one, had met a young model called Patti Boyd and fallen in love. Pattie had been given a part in A Hard Day's Night, playing a schoolgirl, because she had appeared in a successful crisps advertisement -- she was known as the Smith's Crisps girl. She was blonde, beautiful, and a sophisticated Londoner, like Jane Asher. But, like the rest of us Beatle girls, she was friendly, too, and easy to get on with.

Patti and I were becoming close friends. I admired her gorgeous figure and perfect fashion sense, and I think she enjoyed the company of someone who’d been with the Beatles from the beginning and knew the ropes.

Cynthia Lennon, John

"George has a lot with the others that I can never know about. Nobody, not even the wives, can break through it or even comprehend it. It did used to hurt me at first, as I slowly began to learn there was a part I could never be part of. Cyn talked to me about it."

[Pattie speaking] "It's not so bad these days, but it happens. Cyn was attacked not long ago in the street. Some girl kicked her in the legs and said she had to leave John alone, or else. Isn't it amazing, after all the years that John and Cyn have been married?"

[Pattie speaking] "Some people do understand. If they've been developing a lot themselves, growing up more, they know what it's all about. Cyn was very helpful at first, telling me what to do. That was when we thought of the boutique."

Cyn now and again would like to try something new, to have a job, perhaps use her art-college training in some way. She and Pattie, George's wife, did discuss the idea once of opening a boutique together in Esher, but it never came to anything.

Hunter Davies, The Beatles

Mo + Jane

I got to know Jane as well during that trip. While Paul and Richy were off horsing around, Jane and I chatted quite a bit. She’s such an intelligent person and I thought them quite an odd couple at first. Paul is such an assertive fellow (you know) he knows what he wants and Jane is that way too. I often wondered to meself how they ever stayed together as long as they did (you know). 

Maureen interviewed by Maurice Devereux for Le Chroniqueur (July 1988)

Mo + Pattie

Again, she and I had little in common but she was jolly and friendly, more relaxed than Cynthia. We got on but I felt there was definitely a north-south divide among the wives and girlfriends. And I had the definite impression that the girls from the north felt they had a prior claim to “the boys.”

The final straw was his affair with Maureen Starr, Ringo’s wife. She was the last person I would have expected to stab me in the back, but she did.

Pattie Boyd, Wonderful Tonight: George Harrison, Eric Clapton, and Me 

Pattie + Jane

Jane Asher was the girlfriend with whom I felt most at home, but because we both had heavy work commitments she was also the one I saw least. She came from a professional family, had grown up in London and, like me, had been privately educated. The family lived in Wimpole Street; her father was a psychiatrist and her mother a music teacher—her brother Peter became half of the pop duo Peter and Gordon. She was three years younger than me but we got on well and I’ve always been pleased to see her whenever we’ve met.

Pattie Boyd, Wonderful Tonight: George Harrison, Eric Clapton, and Me 

BONUS: Mo on Linda + Yoko

I always thought [Yoko] strange. I mean she would always interrupt the lads when they were working or do strange things without any reason whatsoever. I was there when John brought the bed, and said something about wanting Yoko to be there. I asked Richy about this and he just shook his head in disbelief. I often wondered how they all put up with her. Even Richy would come home and tell me all these strange stories about her. He once told me about her moaning into John’s microphone while they were recording a song and how the two of them would make-out during takes. I always avoided her in the studio for those reasons. She was just too strange for me.

Q: What was it like to sit in the studio with John, Paul and George? A: It was like watching a couple of actors rehearsing a scene in a movie (laughs). I would sit there with a cup of coffee in my hand and watch them for a while or maybe gossip with Linda [McCartney] or Mal [Evans]. When I did watch them, I always thought to meself, so this is what he’s been doing for the last six years! (laughs) I sometimes felt like a fly on the wall, but I knew that I had to be the luckiest fly in the world. Pattie [Harrison] would sometimes be there, but she would always leave early.

Maureen interviewed by Maurice Devereux for Le Chroniqueur (July 1988)

Can't really find any proper quotes from Pattie about Yoko or Linda. She mentions both in her book without much judgment and there are pictures of her with both of them throughout the years so they probably got on okay. I don't think Jane has ever been in the same room as either Linda or Yoko. Same with Cyn and Linda. Cyn's thoughts on Yoko are probably well-established at this point.

[lovelyhan]

— hoax ⟢

pairing: joshua x reader

summary: you’re a hostess that’s drowning in debt, and jisoo is a man with too many secrets to keep. making a clean break for it isn’t as easy as you’d hoped.

word count: 18.6k words

tags: mafia!shua, strangers to lovers, angst, smut

warnings: shua smokes cigarettes & has tatts...i think that should be a warning LOL, mentions of shady mafia business but nothing detailed, graphic sexual content (minors dni!!)

notes: psa that this is a fic i originally wrote for another fandom, but decided to repurpose for svt! in case you find the narration familiar, it's posted on ao3 as a genshin fic, i just did some tweaks to the story to make it fit shua better hehe ++ i loved writing this so much, but it didn't get as much love as i expected back so i've decided to share this w caratblr as well :')

smut tags: dub con in one of the earlier scenes, protected & unprotected sex, shua & reader are both whipped as fuck

svt taglist: @wonderfulshinee - @misssugarlips - @yourfavoritefreakyhan - @jeanjacketjesus - @just-here-to-read-01 - @hanihans - @venusrae - @taestrwbrry - @minnie-mouser22 - @dreamhannies - @thvhannie - @kkooongie - @gae-uls - @lenireads - @gaebestie - @ryusha-rose - @spk93

joshua taglist: @renjunphile - @potatofrieswithketchup - @pretty-trustme

“Rei, time’s up!”

Your current patron groans with contempt at the manager’s announcement. He was a salaryman that’s probably in his thirties, and has been visiting the bar for about two weeks now. It didn’t take long for him to become one of your regular guests. 

“Rei, you’ll be here tomorrow, right?” he asks.

“Of course.” You flash him an apologetic smile as you untangle the arm that circles your waist. “I promise we’ll continue where we left off when you get back~”

This is how you normally appeared to your customers – the bubbliest escort in the entire red light district. It’s easy to lull men into a false sense of connection when you act so sweet and lovely; when you smile like the sun is in your eyes even in the middle of the night. In just six months of working in this place, the manager has considerably taken a liking to you, and you intend to keep up that track record just a few weeks more.

Then, you’d be free.

But no matter how much you doll yourself up for the evening; no matter how much money is signed on your paycheck, you can’t help but feel that something’s amiss. 

It’s a lingering thought that tickles the back of your head every now and again. Your fellow hostesses once told you that feeling the way you do was all part of the job. So once you start feeling uncomfortable in your own skin – under the gazes of your own lecherous patrons – you pour yourself a drink and throw your head back with a ditzy smile. Despite that steadily growing void in her heart, their beloved Rei will continue to grin and bear it. 

“They’re here again.”

You flash the manager a puzzled look once you make it back to the counter. “Who are we talking about?”

She presses her lips into a thin line, gesturing vaguely somewhere behind you. You manage to follow her line of sight discreetly, but when you see a pair of men in rugged suits seated near the entrance, your heart plummets to the pit of your stomach.

“I know you said you’ll deal with them, but they’re starting to unnerve the other girls,” the manager explains quietly. “Is it okay if you take care of this ASAP? I don’t want the bar to get mixed up in something bad.”

Dread sinks its claws into your skin as you mull over a response. The manager has been considerably patient with your dealings involving those loan sharks. But part of you knows that she’s only being this lenient because you were good at your job. 

“Yeah, sorry. I’ll go talk to them now,” you mumble.

Each stride you took feels like a step closer to your own grave. It’s always these same, two men keeping tabs on you – both with full sleeves of tattoos and a missing finger or two. It would make sense that the other girls didn’t like them lingering around the property. After all, your first instinct is always to steer clear every time you see them. 

“How can I help you?” you ask sweetly the moment you arrive at their table.

The first one glares at you through his tinted sunglasses, taking a drag of his cigarette none-too-discreetly. “Cut the crap. You know what we’re here for.”

He says your real name in a way that sounds like two sheets of styrofoam gnashing in your ears. You look around warily, hoping no one heard him.

“I go by Rei in my workplace, so I’d appreciate it if you addressed me as such,” you speak sternly, refusing to take a seat in their company. “What do you want this time? Didn’t we agree that I’ll be paying for the last installment this month?”

The second man snorts before bringing out an envelope from the lapel of his coat. “You sure about that? You got some nerve actin’ all feisty with the people kind enough to loan ya some cash.” 

You accept the envelope with trembling hands – brows cinched as you take out the document inside. But the longer you take to scan its contents, the wider your eyes become. 

It’s an approval notice for a loan of five million won, signed under your father’s name.

“W-What is this?” you stammer. “We didn’t submit any more loan requests.”

The first man shrugs – wholly unconcerned with your plight. And as he kills his cigarette on a crystalline ashtray, you feel your entire world crumbling before your eyes.

“Your old man specifically told us,” he began, words sounding more and more like a threat with each syllable. “That you’d take care of it all.”

You don’t know how you end up running barefoot in the streets after that. Your heels have long been ditched in an alley when you realized you can’t exactly get that far in them. And now, you’re mindlessly shouldering your way through the late night crowd – tuning out the people yelling your name in harsh voices. Those men came prepared; they even stationed a couple of their goons around the area. You can only evade them now because the streets were so packed, but you know better than push your luck.

Goddammit, you think to yourself – cringing a little when you step on a wet patch of something underfoot. I was almost free…

“Don’t let that bitch get away!”

Your body seizes up when you hear the loan shark’s voice closer than you anticipated. Fuck. They have you surrounded. 

In the midst of your momentary distraction though, you fail to see another person who’s also on the run. The same as you. While you did excellently in evading all the other passers-by, you ended up crashing into him in the middle of the busy street anyways – the impact making you stumble to the ground.

“Shit, sorry!” 

You look up with misty eyes – staring at the perpetrator with the intent to glare at him, but his doe-like gaze takes you by surprise. He’s adorned with a neatly-pressed suit, dark hair slicked back to perfection as he holds out a hand for you to take; the one not gripping a heavy-looking suitcase.

“I’m okay…” you mumble, getting back to your feet without accepting his help. “If anything, I should be the one who’s –”

“There she is!”

The two of you bristle at the loan shark’s voice, and you’re rooted to the spot – frozen with fear. You don’t notice the way the stranger you just ran into flickers his gaze between your trembling form and the lackeys coming from every direction. And you’re ignorant of how he manages to put two and two together before seizing your wrist.

“Come with me,” he murmurs, tugging you along before you can protest. 

You know you should be skeptical of him. The district you work in is the perfect environment for scheming assholes like the men who are after you to use as a stronghold. For all you know, this person is the same breed. But there’s something in his firm yet gentle grip that tells you he means no harm. Even as he makes you run faster, farther, you feel none of the dread that slowly crept on you the moment those loan sharks cornered you at the bar.

Your lungs are burning by the time you make it out of the busy streets – nothing but the chirp of cicadas ringing in your ears. Mystery man makes you sit on a bench just outside a small temple, and you’re not exactly in the position to refuse. 

“Ow…” You wince, glancing down only to see that your toes have cuts all over; blood and grime mixing with the wounds.

“Hmm. Wonder what a pretty thing like you got herself into,” the man sighs, raking a gloved hand through his messy black hair. “You sure you’re going to be okay?”

You don’t respond. You barely have the energy. The silence only deepens as you train your eyes on the ground. Your throat was parched from all that running, and you belatedly realize that you still haven’t eaten.

What’s worse is that the cuts on your feet sting like a bitch. Mystery man heaves a deep sigh, and you clearly hear the sound of leaves crunching beneath his shoes as he walks away. You try not to feel disappointed.

You didn’t expect him to stay and comfort you or anything like that. He was kind enough to go out of his way and take you somewhere those goons won’t be able to catch up. It would be stupid to ask for more. But still, you feel that hole in your heart rupture itself even wider – leaving you so hollow that you can’t even hope to fill the void anymore. 

Your makeup is running. Your pedicure is a mess. These are some of the things that you always cared to pay attention to before timing in for work. But now, with nowhere else to go, none of them seem to matter anymore. Even if you spent a significant amount of time getting ready for tonight, you can’t be assed to give a damn.

This is so fucking pathetic.

You don’t want to live like this – working at a goddamn cabaret club just to pay off the debts your father always keeps racking up. All he ever does these days is drink himself dead before dragging his ass to the nearest pachinko machine. You hate it. You hate him. What did you ever do to deserve all the shit that’s being thrown your way? 

Why do you have to deal with all of it alone?

“Here.”

You startle at the sound of your savior’s voice – surprised to see him as he tosses something on the ground in front of you. He came back? But what did he…

Are those sandals?

“I picked out a pair that matches your outfit best. Women are always particular about that kind of stuff, right?” he says nonchalantly, kneeling to the ground as he brings out a pack of wipes from a plastic bag. At that moment, you realize that he’s changed out of his stuffy gray suit in exchange for a pair of jeans and a ratty t-shirt.

Even his hair seems different now, like he'd washed out the wax keeping it in place. Now, it looks just a bit damp as the tips curl at the edges. How he managed to do all that so quickly, you have no clue.

“Hold still. I’m going to clean you up.”

You wince a little when the cool, wet tissue comes into contact with your skin. He doesn’t speak as he wipes off the blood and dirt from your feet, and you’re more mortified than grateful for his kind but uncalled for gesture. Is he trying to get you indebted to him? Are you going to have to pay this back, too?

A few moments later, you spot a general store a few blocks away and the pieces start to fit in your head. That must’ve been where he bought all this stuff. You look around as he continues cleaning you up, and notice that his suitcase is nowhere to be found either. Instead, he has a black knapsack hoisted across one shoulder – a red baseball cap hanging from one of the straps.

How did he manage to buy all this and get changed so quickly? Or were you just sulking about your stupid predicament for that long? 

“There we go,” he says, tossing the soiled tissues into a nearby trash can before covering your wounds with…cute band-aids? “I’m not really one to stick my nose into other people’s business, but my mom would never let me hear the end of it if she found out I left a poor woman for dead.”

Mom? “Okay, but you didn’t have to do all of…this.”  

Mystery man glances up at you with a lopsided smile – the light of the street lamps somehow accentuating the color of his eyes. He looks so much younger like this; dressed down like a college student in his first semester. Once he’s put all the bandages in place, he even goes the extra mile and slides the newly bought sandals on your now-clean feet.

“You’re right, pretty girl. I don’t have to.” He beams. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to.”

Your breath catches in your throat. Your heart skips a beat. Everything about him is still rightfully suspicious, but you find yourself oddly happy with the care he’s given. This is the first time someone’s been so nice to you in a long while.

“Now that you’re good to go, I best be on my way.”

All of a sudden, that fleeting bliss dissipates in a puff of smoke. “...Wait, what? W-Where are you going?”

The man rises back to his feet, and it occurs to you just how tall he is. You swallow the lump in your throat, instinctively backing away from him on the bench. He’s still wearing that endearing look he showed you earlier, but when he speaks again, his voice holds none of his initial warmth.

“Somewhere that has nothing to do with you.”

The words lance through your heart the moment they leave his lips, and you ask yourself, why do you feel so…sad about parting ways with a complete stranger? You don’t even know his name. It shouldn’t be a big deal, right?

You don’t say anything as he takes his baseball cap and eases it atop his messy hair. You don’t utter a word when he starts walking away for real. But the moment you recall the fate that awaits you back at the red light district, the ridiculous debt your father had foolishly signed, and the pathetic life you’ve been wanting to escape from for so long…

Your new sandals crunch against the fallen leaves as you run after him. Your heart nearly leaps into your throat from the adrenaline, and before he can go any farther, you catch the mystery man by the hem of his shirt. He doesn’t even flinch. As if he expected you to follow him right from the start. That makes you wonder if he thinks you’re being a nuisance, but at this point, you can’t bring yourself to care.

“Take me with you. Please.”

He stares along with an unreadable look – his doe eyes shining in the dark as he watches you clutch onto the fabric of his shirt. 

“If you come with me, you’ll never be able to go back,” he tells you up front. “You okay with that?”

In hindsight, maybe running away with a complete stranger isn’t far up in the best decisions you’ve made in life – god knows you’ve only made a few of those. Just because he showed you an ounce of kindness, doesn’t mean he’s a good person. 

Still, the answer comes to you quite easily.

“Yeah,” you say, more confident than you’ve ever been. “Anywhere is better than a dump like this…”

He considers your answer for a moment before letting out a soft laugh. “This town must’ve fucked you up pretty badly, huh? Poor thing.” Mystery man holds out his hand again, and you’re a bit too glad that he’s speaking to you nicely again. “The name’s Joshua.”

“Joshua…?”

Well, that was obviously an alias. You consider telling him the one you go by at the bar as well, but when your eyes rivet to the floral sandals he bought for you on a whim, you immediately assume that you should tell him the truth. Even if he was doing the exact opposite.

You give him your real name with little hesitation, face warming at the intensity of his gaze. But at that moment, you don’t really care what happens anymore. All you want is to escape reality without looking back.

If you have to cling to a complete stranger to achieve that, then so be it.

...

“You were just about to ditch me, weren’t you?” 

Joshua jolts like a cat dumped with ice-cold water – hand shying away from the doorknob of your hotel room with a sheepish look. “Me? Ditching you? You’re dreaming, princess!”

You let out an irritated noise, but your shoulders relax once you catch him plopping his bag on the mattress either way. He’s the one who told you that you can’t go back once you tagged along. You wanted to say that you’re going to make it his responsibility to take care of you, but your mother brought you up better than that.

Still…this all feels a bit surreal.

All your life, you’ve lived in the small town of Andong. You could never afford to make the trip to Seoul even if you wanted – given that a majority of your salary is dedicated to paying off those shitty loans. Yet now, you’re checked in one of the most beautiful hotels you’ve ever seen, courtesy of your stranger-than-life companion. 

Now that you’re in a clearer state of mind, you start to consider the possibility of Joshua being a foreigner; if his name wasn't already a dead giveaway in and of itself.

Another thing you’re left thinking about is how well-off he really is. Not everyone can just book a fancy room at a fancy hotel. But when the two of you showed up at the front desk earlier tonight, he was surprisingly received with warm hospitality. Although, you suppose that all guests are treated the same way in high-end hotels. Not that you would know.

“Well, since we’re stuck together anyways, I’ll be showering first,” he grumbles, tossing his cap on the nightstand as he musses his own hair. “Ahh, I can’t wait to crash into bed.”

“Wait a minute. I thought we agreed I was going to shower first –”

Joshua shuts the door to the en-suite, clicking the lock before you can even finish.

That jerk…!

You angrily sprawl yourself across the mattress as a petty means of getting back at him. Let’s see if he can crash into bed comfortably now! But the abrupt movement makes the bag that Joshua left rustle in place. You shift around until you’re seated on the bed, taking a quick peek at the opened zipper. Somehow, it doesn’t surprise you to see thick wads of cash inside. You knew that you were right on the money to think there’s more to him than meets the eye.

The more rational part of you insists that you get out of here while you still can. That man is probably more dangerous than you think, and even if he’s acting all cheeky with you now, there’s no telling when he’ll decide to cut you off. You remember how quickly Joshua's mirthful countenance morphed into something…scarier when you asked where he was going earlier. Long story short, you do not want to mess with that.

“Hey, princess. It’s your turn.”

You scramble on the bed at the sound of his voice as you compose yourself in a way that doesn’t suggest that you’ve been going through his stuff. Joshua emerges from the bathroom with steam billowing from the doorway – a fluffy towel hanging low on his hips. But now that he was liberated from the confines of his clothes, you realize that his body was actually inked.

Twin koi fish curled around both of his pecs – accentuating the contours of his chest better than you’d expect. And when he turns around, there’s a massive caricature of a dragon splayed across his muscular back. You don’t know whether he’s oblivious of your observant stare or he’s just letting you enjoy the show. But either way, Joshua grants you an eyeful of his tattoos for a good amount of time. 

He walks over to the table near the windows – grabbing a pack of cigarettes and a lighter you didn’t know he was carrying around. Joshua takes a stick between his teeth, and you can’t peel your eyes away from the way he takes a drag after he lights it. But when his deep brown gaze finally flickers to yours, you’re not quick enough to disengage.

“So how long are you going to stare at me for?” He asks, amused. 

Eye twitching with annoyance, you grab one of the pillows on the bed before throwing it right at his face. Joshua manages to catch it before that happens though, much to your dismay.

“None of your business!”

It’s only when you get under the spill of a hot shower that the gravity of your situation finally hits you. You absentmindedly scrub away the grime off your body as you think that you might’ve followed someone you shouldn’t have. Now that your prior amazement from seeing his tattoos had come and went, you realize that he didn’t have them inked on a whim. They were a symbol of status and power. 

Working as a hostess means that you get to know a lot more shady guys than you’d otherwise meet under normal circumstances. But apart from those nasty debt collectors, you’ve done a great job at avoiding a lot of them. But now, you willingly waltzed into the den of someone that’s probably ten times worse. 

Great.

You put on a bathrobe before heading out of the en-suite, peaking your head out of the door to make sure Joshua isn’t doing anything weird. But all you see is a tall man dozing softly on the bed – his still-wet hair dampening the pillows slightly. You sigh before padding back inside the room. Didn’t he ever learn that sleeping with damp hair is going to make him catch a cold in the morning?

For some reason, you end up grabbing a small, dry towel he left on the table – intent on patting down some of the moisture. Joshua lays still on his side, undisturbed in his slumber. You make sure you’re careful with how you dab the towel across his head; not really wanting him to wake up in the middle of it. But now that you’re close enough to study his face, you can feel yourself growing embarrassed. Joshua's thick lashes lay softly across the skin beneath his eyes, and when you look closer, you can almost see the tiny spots that dot his cheekbones. 

You don’t like to admit, but he’s actually pretty…handsome.

A while later, you come to terms that you won’t be able to pat down his hair thoroughly if he’s asleep. That’s when you decide to towel dry your own hair for ten or-so minutes before climbing into bed with him.

The sheets feel smooth against your skin, but that does little to keep your mind off the fact that a gangster (at least, you assumed he was a gangster) is sleeping right next to you. You tell yourself not to sneak any glances, but you end up doing just that anyway – admiring each detail of his tattoos without really meaning to. 

Is this really okay? Should I really let my guard down around someone like him?

All these thoughts drift in and out of your head, but in the end, you succumb to the day’s fatigue. Joshua bought dinner for the both of you once you got off the train on the way here, so your hunger was already abated. But you figure that a good night’s sleep is what your body needs to completely recuperate.

…But if he’s kind enough to patch up your wounds and buy you dinner, then gangster or not, maybe he isn’t such a bad person.

Joshua, however, makes you regret even thinking that literally the next second later.

The moment you’ve found a comfortable spot on the bed, the man beside you suddenly pounces – caging you in his strong arms before you can even draw a breath. His lips twitch into a lazy smile that borders on devilish, and you immediately figure out that you’re fucked.

“You’re a sweet little thing, aren’t you?” he laughs, tracing the swell of your lower lip with his finger. “Drying my hair ‘cause you’re worried about me? Princess, I’d be more careful if I were you. After all…”

When Joshua leans closer, you feel his breath fan against your ear – making you hate the way your body shudders from the feel of it. 

“I’m not a good man.”

You should push him away – you know you should. But from the hypnotizing strokes of his tattoos to the endless honey brown of his eyes, you find Joshua whittling down your defenses alarmingly fast. When his mouth descends onto yours, you welcome him despite your voice of reason screaming for you to stop – to get away while you still can.

But that’s the thing, you can’t get away. Not when you willingly followed him in the first place.

His body is impossibly warm against yours, and you can’t help but respond to his touch whenever his dexterous fingers graze your skin. But as you let him deepen his tongue-filled kiss, you suddenly recall why you’re even here. 

Persistent loan sharks. A never-ending debt. 

And you have the gall to be doing all this? 

“Joshua,” you plead, mustering the strength to push against his chest. “Please, stop.” 

He doesn’t listen. Instead, Joshua nudges the folds of your bathrobe apart, exposing your chest to the cold air of your hotel room. A large hand moves to grope your breast, languidly massaging the supple flesh. But the sensation of his heated palm on your cold skin is enough to snap you back to your senses, and finally, you manage to retaliate.

“I told you to stop!” you shout, folding your knee high enough to kick him in the chest. Joshua obviously doesn’t expect this, and grunts in pain as he stumbles backwards on the mattress. He stares at you with a puzzled look, as if he didn’t try to take advantage of you only a few seconds prior.

“I didn’t come with you to be your fuckdoll, asshole,” you growled, tears stinging your eyes despite the anger in your voice. “Just because I’m a hostess, doesn’t mean I’m easy. Who the hell do you think you are?”

You expect him to lose his temper – to ‘remind you of your place’. Because that’s how gangsters usually operate. Going for the things they want without considering the repercussions on the other people involved. When he reaches out to you, you brace yourself for the oncoming impact. But instead of a hard slap to the face, Joshua caresses the side of your cheek almost apologetically. You startle at his touch – flashing him a perturbed look.

“Sorry, my mom’s always told me that I can be a bit too into the things I do,” he chuckles, thumb grazing the high of your cheekbone. “And that I can be a bit selfish and presumptive. When I did all those nice things for you today, I expected you’ll return the favor by whatever means~”

You don’t even have the time to think about how this man just brought up his mother in a serious conversation. Instead, you scowl at Joshua like he’s just lost his mind. “Doesn’t that just make you a scumbag?”

“When did I ever say I wasn’t?” He laughs. “Didn’t you find it the least bit suspicious that I was being kind to you without asking for anything in return? I’ll have you know that everyone has ulterior motives these days, princess.”

“I did,” you snap. “And I’m glad I didn’t trust you right off the bat.”

“Oh? But you trust me enough to share this room with me?”

You open your mouth, close it, open it again, but alas, no wise retort comes out. He’s right. You knew that Joshua was suspicious from the start, but you still threw everything to the wind and ran away with him. It’s not like you can go back now that everything has gone to shit, though. And you can’t say with confidence that you can find a place for yourself here in the city with no connections nor cash either.

All you have is Joshua, as much as it pains you to admit.

“Come here.”

Joshua eases himself back to his side of the bed and holds out his arms – as if inviting you into his space. You respond with a bizarre look that makes him snort. “You think I’ll come anywhere near you after that stunt you pulled?”

“Hey, you don’t want to have sex. That’s cool. I’m not so much of a scumbag that I’ll force you to do it,” he tells you nonchalantly. “But can we at least cuddle? It’s been quite a while since I’ve felt the warmth of a woman.”

“...You’re really, really strange. You know that?” 

“Mhmm. So I've been told.”

Gods, you’re tired. Downright exhausted. You just want to knock yourself out and forget about the misfortune of having landed someone like Joshua as a companion. You appreciate that he isn’t the type to coerce women into sex, but…ugh! This guy’s impossible to figure out.

…Still, you inch closer to his welcoming touch, biting down a sharp retort when you hear him chuckling softly at your surrender. Joshua wraps his strong arms around your frame, and you close your eyes – catching a whiff of a salty breeze in the air. You wonder if the scent is coming from the sheets or his wild, wild hair.

“This isn’t so bad, now is it?” he teases. 

“Shut up and go to sleep.”

“Aww, you’re making an awful lot of demands to the person who saved you! I think I liked you better when you were bashful and on the brink of tears, princess.” 

You scoff. “So not only are you a scumbag, but you’re also a sadist.”

“Mmm, I don’t have any objections about that, really.”

God, just what have you gotten yourself into?

...

If you thought your first night as Joshua’s unwitting travel companion was a big hassle, you’re certainly in for the ride for the next few days.

He’s always out during the daytime – feeding you excuses like he has to meet up with a couple of friends before leaving you alone and bored in the hotel room. It’s a good thing that the cable service here covered your favorite noontime soap operas, so you could kill time for at least a few hours. Joshua always returns before dinner, and orders room service while engaging you in small talk. He doesn’t tell you about his daytime escapades, nor do you ask.

But when the daily cycle repeats itself for the third time, you decide to put your foot down.

“Are you trying to get me to die of boredom or something?” you ask him once the bellboy takes away your food trays for the night. “I know you’re doing some super shady stuff somewhere out there, but would it kill you to show me around? First time I’ve ever been to Seoul and I’m confined in a hotel room.”

Joshua stares at you dubiously. “Princess, you’re not some inmate I’m keeping locked up in a cell. I never said you weren’t allowed to go sightseeing or whatever.”

You pause. Right, he never did say that explicitly… But you can’t really tell him you were too afraid to go out wandering on your own. 

“Have you been behaving like I kidnapped you or something?” Joshua snorts, walking over to the windows to light a cigarette. Your face scrunches up at that. The room’s going to reek of tobacco smoke now. “How about this: let’s walk around the shopping district tomorrow morning. Besides, the spare clothes provided by the hotel are just going to rack up on the checkout bill. Might as well get you some better outfits instead.”

Looking down at your current attire, you can’t help but think he’s right. You couldn’t exactly bring any of your clothes with you on this very impromptu trip, and you refused when Joshua offered to lend you a bunch of his own. For some reason, a whole duffel bag full of men’s clothes arrived a day after you checked in, and when you asked Joshua about it, he simply said that he prides his men for always delivering the necessities for a trip. 

His men. Meaning, this asshole is definitely a big shot kingpin of some sketchy organization and he’s just keeping his mouth shut about it. It’s a good thing that the staff offered to give you some hotel-issued clothes for a certain price, though. Like hell you’re going to prance around in a mafia boss’ clothes.

But…did you hear him right? Did Joshua just offer to take you shopping?

“Don’t you dare think you can buy my trust with material things,” you warn him, bringing your knees closer to your chest on the bed. “I’m still on to you.”

“So scary,” your companion chuckles, tilting his chin up before puffing out a cloud of smoke. He looks like he’s just about to follow that up with another jab to get on your nerves, but something seems to catch his gaze. 

Then, you realize that Joshua is staring at your feet.

Before you can blurt out some offhand remark about a foot fetish, though, he asks, “You won’t be needing band-aids anymore, right? I can always run to the drugstore and get you some.”

“Yeah, you don’t have to do that. My feet are fine,” you insist before following it up with a softer, “But I might need a new pedicure, though…”

“What was that?”

“Nothing. What time are we going out again?”

The next morning, Joshua jostles you out of bed at seven A.M. sharp – much to your utter dismay. Judging by how never stays out too late despite his questionable business ventures in the city, it probably makes sense for him to be a morning person. He tells you that the shopping district doesn’t even open until nine, but the bastard insists that the early morning sun is good for your skin!  

As he shows you around the main avenue, though, your initial unwillingness to go out so early in the goddamn morning slowly ebbs – having been replaced with pure, unadulterated awe because wow. The big city really is a sight to see. It’s so different from your hometown that you kind of regret not visiting sooner.

Thankfully, there are some places just outside the shopping district that open much earlier. Joshua escorts you to a nearby restaurant – insisting that you can order to your heart’s content. You receive the offer with equal parts bewilderment and concern, but cooping yourself up in that damn hotel room gives you little time to think about courtesy. If he’s willing to pay for your expenses, who are you to refuse?

Breakfast goes the same way all the other meals you shared with Joshua have gone so far. You try to probe his reasons for visiting Seoul as subtle as you can, but he always skirts around the topic with a face as smooth as butter. It’s obvious that he isn’t going to start talking about whatever undercover mission he’s on, so instead, you ask about his family.

“My family?” he repeats.

You nod. “Yeah. You brought up your mom like...twice already. Kinda made me wonder if a lunatic like you is actually a family man.”

“Hey! While you’re not wrong about me being a lunatic, I’ve yet to show you that side of me. That’s a pretty mean assumption.” Joshua pouts, scooping a spoonful of rice into his mouth. 

You’re not even going to ask him to elaborate. 

“Hmm… But I guess you could say I’m a family man,” he hums right after swallowing his food. “I’m an only child, but I've always wanted a family of my own, you know? Old suburban home, white picket fence, six kids, and a dog –” 

“Six?” you echo. “Were you that lonely growing up?”

Joshua snorts. “Where I'm from, it's completely normal to have a ton of kids.”

“Where are you from anyway?”

“The U.S. Los Angeles, specifically.”

Los Angeles… Well, at least he's honest about that. His answer also proves your hunch about him being a foreigner.

“What are you doing so far away from home then?” you ask. “Won’t your parents miss you or something? Don’t you miss them?”

An emotion you can’t quite identify passes over Joshua's face – something grim and untouchable. You’re about to insist that he doesn’t need to answer or anything, but the look disappears faster than it surfaced and he’s back to flashing you a shit-eating grin like usual.

“Hmm, why are you talking about family when we’re out on a date?” he sulks. “You’re so unromantic. How about you teach me how to use chopsticks instead?”

You stare at him, puzzled. “You…don’t know how to use chopsticks? But your Korean is so fluent.”

He rolls his eyes. “Hasty generalization. Just because I can speak the language, doesn't mean I'm good at the other cultural customs, you know.”

Just like that, Joshua expertly makes you forget about all that talk about his family. He distracts you well enough until you finally arrive at the shopping district, and the first thing he does is drag you to a beauty salon.

“Uh, I thought we were buying clothes,” you tell him dryly.

He hums, already signing the clipboard that the lady behind the reception counter hands to him. “Didn’t you say you wanted to get a pedicure first?”

“...I was joking.”

“Well, I’m not.” He grins before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll come get you in half an hour. That sound good?”

You can’t even let yourself feel the heat rushing to your face because Joshua is already sliding a black credit card onto the counter – the limitless variant that you can only dream of getting for yourself. What on earth is he doing with that bag of cash back in the hotel room when he had one of those the whole time?

“That’s a gorgeous boyfriend you have, miss.” Your beautician sighs as she massages your feet with moisturizer. “I wonder when I’ll get lucky to land a guy that hot.”

You’re compelled to tell her, no. That potential criminal mastermind is most certainly not your boyfriend. But the way this woman’s gentle hands press down on your toes reminds you of the night you met Joshua. How he went out of his way to clean the dirt off your feet without uttering a single word in complaint. How his eyes appeared so disarmingly brown that you can’t forget their color even if you wanted to. 

And not to mention that innocent kiss he gave you before making his leave earlier…

Nope. Get it together, you chide yourself. That is the same douchebag that tried to have sex with you the other night. And are you forgetting the fact that he’s hinted at his own criminal activity several times now?!

But in spite of yourself, you respond to your beautician’s words with a gentle smile. 

“I’m sure you’ll meet him soon.”

…

“Joshua, this is way too much.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, thank you for spoiling me rotten, but what the fuck? Who buys a hundred thousand won's worth of clothes for a woman he barely knows?”  

“Does it matter? Not to brag, but I’ve got lots of cash to burn, princess.”

“...That’s – That’s not the point!”

It’s not even lunch time but you’re already arguing with Joshua over his irresponsible expenses. Like, sure, this all totally works in your favor, but you still have a shred of decency at least! He’s already bought you three expensive dresses, a nice pair of designer jeans, and some chic-looking heels. He got you the last one from the store the moment Joshua noticed your stare lingering too long on the display window. 

You used to joke around with your old college friends about getting a sugar daddy in the past but… Is this really the right way to go about it? Why does it feel like you’re doing something illegal?!

“Don’t you like them?” he asks, lower lip swelling into a pout. “We can always pick out something else. Oh, I forgot to make you choose a swimsuit.”

“...What do I need a swimsuit for?”

He spares you another conniving smile, taking something out from inside his jacket before showing it to you.

“Are those…” You gape at him. “Plane tickets?”

Joshua nods like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Yep. We’re going on vacation to Jeju Island. Doesn’t that sound exciting?”

No, it doesn’t! Not in the slightest!! Okay, maybe you’re a bit curious to see what Jeju's famous coastlines have to offer, but… That doesn’t explain why Joshua is so willing to spend unspeakable amounts of money at the drop of a hat. You wonder what’s so damn special about you for him to keep spoiling you like this, but then again, maybe he’s never been frugal to begin with. Unlike yourself – who’s always had to work for every penny just to make ends meet.

The realization dawns on you like a sucker punch to the gut. Sure he’s kind enough (more like, crazy enough) to let you tag along with him, but the fact that the two of you live in completely different worlds only starts to sink in at that moment. 

Right now, Joshua is donned with a maroon shirt with the buttons done only up to the middle – giving you a glimpse of those tattoos you’ve never grown tired of looking at. He matched it with a black leather jacket and a nice pair of trousers, looking like a million dollars in every single way. Even if you managed to change into a more stylish fit compared to your hotel clothes, you still feel grossly inferior – not that the two of you were on equal footing in the first place.

This isn’t all that different from that sinking sensation you always felt in the bar – a feeling like you’re somewhere you’re not supposed to be. Somewhere you don’t belong. 

Joshua is a goddamn big shot, and you? You’re just a parasite. You don’t deserve all of this finery. You don’t even deserve his company at all.

If he notices how you’ve gone noticeably silent as he leads you to an athletics store, Joshua doesn’t bring it up. He merely holds up all the bags of unnecessary purchases in one hand, and your own hand in the other. You don’t fault the lady at the salon for thinking this guy was your boyfriend. To an outsider, the two of you must’ve looked like a couple in their mid-twenties.

But even if he practically jumped you last time, you know better than to expect more than what he’s already giving you. Besides, you didn’t run away with Joshua just to get together with him… 

Right?

“Does this look okay?”

You come out of the dressing room to show Joshua the swimsuit he picked out for you. He glances up from his phone, and you try not to let the mesmerized look on his face get to your head. 

“You’re looking real sexy right now, princess,” he admits – pocketing his phone as he walks to the front of your stall. “I knew it. Blue really suits you.”

“Quit saying weird things,” you mumble, shyly draping your arms over your chest. “Do you want me to get it or not?”

“More importantly, do you want to get it?”

“H-Huh?”

All of a sudden, Joshua pushes you back inside the stall – locking the door behind him before you can utter a protest. There’s a serious look on his face that you don’t get to see a lot, but you don’t get to ponder on it much. He’s quick to place both of his large hands on your shoulders, making you face the full-body mirror inside without any delay.

“Do you not like receiving gifts, gorgeous?” he whispers, and you hate how your skin prickles at the new pet name. “You’ve been so against everything I bought for you all day, even though you’re the one who picked them out yourself.”

“Joshua –”

One of his hands starts to descend, brushing across your arm and onto the curve of your waist. His other hand teases the straps of your bikini top, sending involuntary shivers running down your spine. To make things worse, your breath hitches as you meet Joshua’s gaze in the mirror – piercing doe eyes holding you hostage with a single glance. 

“Or maybe you don’t like receiving gifts from me,” he considers. “Well, I am a bad guy. If you want me to cut it out, you can tell me up front. I just hate seeing that look on your face.”

“...What look?” you whisper – trying your best to distract yourself from the heat of his touch.

Joshua sighs as he rubs your exposed skin tenderly. “The look you make when you’re sad. You’ve always been making that look ever since we left for the city. Honestly, I’ve even considered sending you back home a couple of times -”

“No,” you cut him off sharply. “D-Don’t send me back. Please. Anywhere but there.”

You don’t even notice that your own hands moved on their own accord – palms placed on top of his much larger ones from where they now rest on your hips. Joshua stares at your reflection with wide eyes before he sighs, burying his face in the hollow of your neck.

This is a dangerous position to be in. He easily covers your body with his own, and you can only do so much to hold back the noises threatening to spill from your lips as Joshua massages your sensitive skin. 

“Then why do you keep refusing me?” he murmurs, teeth grazing the column of your throat. “From what I recall, you’re the one who came to me, princess. I thought you’d be more thick-skinned than that. Other women would kill to be in your place, you know.”

“That’s because I don’t get you, Joshua,” you argue, biting your lip when he starts to suck on your skin. “Y-You can be an ass at times, but you still do all these nice things for me anyway. You’re even splurging a shit-ton of money for no good reason. I get that you’re loaded but…why? Why are you being so kind to me?”

He lets out a soft laugh that reverberates sweetly across his chest – you feel the vibrations from where he presses himself behind you, and you have to clench your thighs together to stem your pooling desire. “You’re not used to being treated well by the people around you, huh?”

You scoff – the accusation stinging more than it should. “You think?”

Joshua doesn’t respond immediately – letting himself get a feel of your pliant body for as long as you allowed it first. He tries to familiarize himself with how your skin feels against his fingers; where your erogenous zones are, and the other spots that make you blush like a schoolgirl. It’s a bit selfish of him to delay such an important answer, but Joshua is nothing if he’s not selfish.

“When I was assigned to go to Korea, my…employer gave me an ultimatum – one that involves my family back home,” he tells you quietly. “If I don’t go back to L.A. with substantial results, they’ll be the one to suffer the punishment.”

Suddenly, you could see through the sensual haze that hung between the both of you seconds prior. Shock paints itself raw on your face as you blurt out, “You were blackmailed?” God, no wonder he didn’t want to talk about his family.

“Heh. I’m used to being blackmailed, pretty girl. It’s part of my job,” Joshua speaks nonchalantly. “But…that doesn’t mean I didn’t drag my ass here, nearly overwhelmed with anxiety. I’d kill a man if I was ordered to do it, but if my family’s lives are at stake? Anyone would be terrified.”

You feel your heart sink at the way his expression shifts into something more melancholic. Joshua exchanges his suggestive caresses for a proper embrace. He hugs you from behind, breathing in the scent of cheap shampoo still lingering in your hair. 

“What does that have to do with me?” you whisper. “I don’t understand…”

“When you bumped into me at Andong that night, you kind of snapped me out of it,” he chuckles. “I couldn’t think of anything else but my job and my parents, but then you came along. Honestly, I was only supposed to help you get away from the assholes chasing you but…”

“I ran after you…” you continue, feeling more embarrassed than you should. 

Oh. You don’t even have the right to feel like shit for being with Joshua because you chose to be here, dammit! Why do you keep forgetting that?

“Exactly.” Joshua hums as he snakes an arm in front of your stomach, pushing your body against his chest. “I’m not always this territorial, you know, but you practically offered yourself up. Do you know what that does to a guy like me?”

You shouldn’t find it so fucking hot when his other hand trails up from your navel, your chest, all the way to your neck – thick fingers pressing down your throat with ample pressure. Your gazes meet in the mirror, and you don’t miss the near-manic glint in his eyes as Joshua holds onto you possessively.

“Now tell me, princess. Do you want the swimsuit or not?”

You can’t help the shuddering sigh that escapes your lips. At this point, you have no choice but to let him buy you the damn thing. You’re pretty sure Joshua’s aggressive display is enough to make you soak through your bottoms, and it’s not like he’s going to take no for an answer either.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper as he eases his hand away from your neck. “I’m just…not used to wearing all of this. It’s like I’m not meant to. I’ve always just settled with clothes that go on sale, you know.”

“...Well, how do you feel about the stuff I give you?”

“Um. They’re all pretty, I guess?”

“Do you wanna wear them?”

“O-Of course.”

Finally, Joshua peels himself away – only to twirl you around to face him directly. His tousled black hair is sticking out every which way, but all you can focus on are his rich brown irises, nearly drowning you in those endless pools of honey. 

“Then you better wear them unapologetically,” he tells you, tucking a tuft of your hair behind your ear. “A princess needs only the finest garbs. Why do you think I call you that all the time, huh?”

“To get a rise out of me?”

Joshua barks out a laugh. “I guess I can’t say no to that. But anyways, the point still stands: I’ll give you anything and everything in the world. All you have to do is ask.”

After what seems like an eternity inside that damn dressing room, you manage to kick him out of the stall before putting your clothes back on. You end up replaying everything he just told you like a broken record. Anything and everything? This man is a different kind of delusional. 

But you can’t really afford to think about it much. Just as you thought, the evidence of your rather…risqué encounter with Joshua is lathered across the inseam of your bottoms, and you shamefully wipe it off with a napkin you nabbed from the restaurant.

When the two of you head back to the cashier to make your nth purchase of the day, you’re vaguely aware of the other sales persons stealing glances at you and Joshua. Well, if you were in their shoes, you’d certainly find it odd why it took almost thirty minutes for you to try on a damn swimsuit. But fortunately, Joshua's reputation precedes him even at a shopping center all the way in Seoul. None of them dare to speak to him, much more raise any complaints.

“Couldn’t you have waited to sit down and have the talk with me back in our hotel room?” you groan once you make it out of the store. “I’m sure those guys think you fucked me in the stall or something.”

“Would you like that?” Joshua teases, and you’re sure he would’ve pulled you close to him if only his hands weren't full of shopping bags. “Does my princess get off on the idea of being fucked silly in a dressing room?”

“Don’t push it, asshole.”

You meant to punctuate the words with a borderline scowl, but all that makes itself known on your face is a sheepish smile that you can’t quite bite down. Joshua notices this, of course, but instead of making you flustered about it like usual, he offers to flag down a taxi on the way back to the hotel instead of walking. 

The last thing he needs is to ruin your new pedicure, after all.

...

A week later, you and Joshua arrive at Jeju Island.

You didn’t even consider the possibility of this place having an airport. All this time, you assumed that sea travel was the way to go for them. But you were surprisingly greeted by the sight of a modern-looking terminal as you and Joshua waited for your luggage. He’s been quiet for the whole ride, and you’d be lying if you said that doesn’t concern you even a little. Joshua not running his mouth just to piss you off means something was up.

But when the two of you finally make it outside, he’s back to his usual self. 

“So, do you want to sample Jeju's finest mandarin orchards, or do you want to settle down at the hotel first?” he asks with a chipper smile. “Though you do look like you want to take a nap.”

“I do,” you reply, yawning as you lean against his shoulder. “Can’t we just cuddle today?”

“Oh? You’re offering cuddles for free? Who are you and what did you do my princess?”

“...Cringe.”

“Wha – Did you just say I’m cringe?!”

Your banter is interrupted by a man in a suit clearing his throat. You stare at him with thinly veiled confusion, wondering what he needed. 

“Sir Joshua. We’ve been anticipating your arrival.”

…Sir Joshua?  

“Oh, Chan. I didn’t think you’d be the one stationed here,” your companion greets the man with a smile – plucking your duffel bag from your grasp before handing it to the newcomer. “Tell the driver to bring us to the hotel first.”

Chan nods swiftly. “Understood, sir.”

That’s how you find yourself in the backseat of a high-end limousine – speeding through the scenic roads of Jeju as you and Joshua bask in the silence. He’s busy talking to someone on the phone, but you can’t bring yourself to eavesdrop on their conversation. It feels wrong to do so. 

Instead, you let yourself wonder what he has planned. After he fulfills his mission, what then? Is he going to take you back to L.A.? You’re not so deluded to think that he’ll stay here with you when he has a family waiting for him. But the idea of traveling all the way to his homeland makes you a little queasy. You’ve just gotten used to visiting far-away places in Korea. You think you’re going to need a bit more momentum before packing up to the other side of the world.

…Does he work well in the cold? You barely see him sweat even in the humid air of the summer. Maybe Joshua is the type of person who can easily adapt to the current climate. When that train of curiosity starts to pick up, though, you realize that it’s a little hard to stop. 

You want to know more about him. About his habits, his quirks, his family, and his work. He obviously likes you enough to keep showering you with gifts. Of course, you’ve tried asking a few questions about those in the past, and Joshua merely brushed them off with a laugh.

But things are different now. Ever since that…fateful encounter in the dressing room, he’s been more open with you. More up front about the things going on inside his head. If you push the right buttons, then you might be able to understand him a bit better.

Joshua pockets his phone about five minutes later, leaning against you before circling his arms around your waist. “Hmph. Can’t believe I’m still forced to think about work.”

“You can always just switch off your phone,” you suggest jokingly.

He only sighs in response, and you pat his head gingerly as a means of comfort. “By the way, I planned on scheduling a trip for Sunrise Peak, but turns out, it's closed to tourists for the weekend.” Joshua looks up at you, pouting. “Sorry, princess. I can only take you to the beach.”

He was planning a visit to Sunrise Peak? Well, you haven’t seen it with your own eyes yet, but the fact that Joshua is intuitive enough to hazard guesses about what you might and might not like… 

You want to familiarize yourself with him, the same way he so effortlessly does with you. 

Not giving him any leeway to pull back, you grab his face and mesh your lips on top of his. Joshua doesn’t respond for a few seconds – and you can almost imagine him staring at you with wide, brown eyes. But eventually, he laughs into the kiss before pressing his mouth firmly against yours.

“That’s fine by me,” you murmur. 

As long as I’m with you.

...

Your hotel room back at Seoul was one of the best you’ve seen, but the one here on Jeju just set the bar even higher. 

Once the two of you have settled down in your suite, you gaze around in awe at the interior. Everything is mostly made out of wood, which further adds to the appeal of it all. Seashell curtains, exotic carpets, hand-made wind chimes – they have it all. Not to mention, this room in particular comes with a private pool just by the balcony, along with a view that overlooks the sea. Joshua teases you about how excited you are – just like a kid on a school trip – but you decide to let his impudence slide.

“Aren’t you going to swim with me?”

You gaze at him sulkily by the edge of the pool, watching as Joshua smokes a cigarette on top of a folding chair. He’s already changed into his swimming trunks – having removed his shirt and other accessories. Yet he still refuses to get in the pool with you. Still, Joshua gets up from his chair with a soft laugh, padding closer as he crouches over the edge.

“You should know about the delicate art of having a smoke while watching your girl have fun,” he tells you, taking a drag as if to prove a point. 

Your eye twitches. “You’re the one who picked out my swimsuit, so you better have fun with me!”

Despite all his bravado, you don’t miss the look on Joshua's face when you yank on his leg – the forward momentum easily making him topple into the swimming pool. You let out an unflattering laugh as he flounders in the water for a few seconds before Joshua rises back to the surface with an annoyed look on his face.

“Hey, I don’t remember you being this much of a brat, princess,” he grumbles, picking off the doused cigarette floating in the pool before tossing it back on the concrete. 

“That’s my way of telling you to quit,” you say, snickering to yourself. “Seriously, it always smells like cigarettes in our old hotel room. The smoke detector must’ve been busted or something… Joshua?”

While you prattled on about the fact that you disliked a habit that he probably formed years before he even met you, Joshua waded through the water and cornered you by the side of the pool. You gulp, observing how the water glistens across his skin as his tattooed chest stands proud for you to see.

“You know, I noticed a little something over the past few days,” he whispers – mouth twitching into a no-good smile as he reaches a hand to cup your jaw. “You really like staring at my chest, don’t you?”

“Wrong. I like staring at your ink.” 

“But it’s still staring, isn’t it?” Joshua breathes out an airy laugh before planting a kiss on your forehead – the same way he did that time at the beauty salon. The patch of skin that’s grazed by his lips burns when he pulls away, and you hate how the sensation spreads across the rest of your face.

“How about we get you inked someday?” he offers. 

“Me? Getting a tattoo?” You blink. “Uh, I used to think about getting one when I was still in college, but…?!”

All of a sudden, this bastard places his hands on your waist before hoisting you out of the water like you weigh nothing more than a bag of rice. You scowl at him, thrashing around and splashing water everywhere. But Joshua doesn’t seem to be bothered by all your flailing. He even seems to be observing your lower body like he’s trying to figure out how to chop up each part for later. 

“Hmm… I think one on your thigh would suit you,” he says, lowering you onto the edge of the pool. “Navel tattoos are pretty hot, too.”

“But what’s the point if no one can see?” you huff. 

“Hey, my tatts are always covered,” Joshua reminds you. “That’s because only a select few are deserving to see them.”

His words ignite a surge of heat inside your chest. If you weren’t blushing before, you certainly are now. “...You think I’m deserving, then?”

Your companion spreads your legs wider, easing himself into the space between as he holds your thighs firmly in his hands. Joshua stares into your eyes with a gaze that’s meant to devour. You’ve always found it odd how much self-control he can actually exercise. Apart from the first night he tried to pounce on you, and that little escapade in the dressing room, he never once tried to make any moves on you again. For someone who talks big about how possessive and territorial he can be, Joshua is being awfully ascetic.

“Of course you are,” he murmurs. “Once we’re done here, I’ll bring you to the best tattoo artist in L.A. He’s the one who did both of my pieces.” 

Something about the promise in his words makes your heart leap with delight. He’s…going to bring you to Los Angeles? 

“Are you going to let me meet your parents, too?” you half-joke, shying away from his intense gaze.

“Why not?” he asks. “My mom loves independent girls. You’ve only been relying on yourself before you met me, right? That’s pretty awesome.”

You shrink away from the compliment, unused to being praised about that segment of your life. “I’m not sure how she’s going to react about me being a hostess, though.”

Joshua shakes his head. “Believe it or not, you’re one of the few people who can put me in my place, sweet girl. I’m convinced that she automatically takes to someone like that.”

“So you’re a problem child, then?”

“Ehh, can’t say I’m not.”

Just when you thought he’ll finally let his self-restraint snap, you and Joshua end up talking about his life in America by the poolside. He tells you about how his father taught him how to fish in the lake the next county over, how to hunt and survive out in the wilderness. He tells you about his mother, and how he’d do anything just to guarantee her safety; even if it comes at the expense of his own. He willingly divulges all his fond memories of his hometown, but not once does Joshua allude to anything involving his work.

You try not to take it so personally. After all, in spite of the drastic development in your…friendship? Relationship? Either way, it doesn’t change the fact that you’re someone he hasn’t really known all that long.  

But as the two of you marvel at the twilight sun sinking on the faraway horizon, it seems that Joshua managed to read your mind.

“Can you believe it’s only been two weeks since we met?” he chuckles, hand inching closer to rest on top of yours.

“Nope,” you sigh. “I feel like I’ve known you far longer than that.”

“Heh. Time really flies when you’re having fun, does it?”

You couldn’t have said it better yourself. Honestly, you can’t even recall the last time you had fun. During the past few months, each day passed by painfully slowly. Despite being adored as Rei the hostess, you never had fun back at the bar; nor did you have fun coming home to your alcoholic of a father. 

As you glance over at Joshua – whose face is generously lit up by the soft orange light – you wonder if it’s really okay to turn your back on your life and just live the rest of your days by his side. It’s only been two weeks, but there was never a dull moment with him. But can you even afford to be more selfish than you already are?

“You really have a staring problem, you know that?”

“...Do you have a sixth sense or something?”

“I’m a trained fighter, princess. I’m supposed to know when I’m being watched.”

There it is – his first casual mention of his line of work. 

You can’t exactly narrow down the possibilities of what exactly it is that Joshua does for a living. You’re pretty sure that he’s in the same type of business as those loan sharks, but on a much larger scale. What’s more is that he’s trained to fight – as if his purpose lies more on confrontation than diplomatic relations. Him being stationed all the way here in Korea gives you a slight clue that he might be trying to settle the score with someone on behalf of his employer, though you can’t really say for sure.

But…you purposely shove all these thoughts in the back of your head as you lace your fingers around his neck – bringing his forehead against yours. Joshua doesn’t resist your advances. He even gazes at you with the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen, a hint of fondness shining in his vibrant irises.

Before meeting the man in front of you, you’ve always assumed that love takes time. You can’t call it love if you don’t even know the person that well! This is the very same thing you used to tell patrons who wanted to start a serious relationship with you back at the bar. But Joshua?

You don’t know how, but he managed to fill that void that’s long been tearing your heart to shreds. That seemingly ephemeral emptiness; the hollow space resting deep inside your chest – he filled it all up in the span of two weeks. Whether it be with all those expensive gifts and trinkets, or his worthwhile company alone, you don’t feel empty anymore. You feel so blissfully whole that you’d gladly lose yourself in him if it meant you never had to feel alone ever again.

“Shua, can I ask for something?”

“Heh. This is new. You never ask for anything,” he comments, and you still smell traces of tobacco in his breath. “What is it? Anything my princess wants, I’ll give to her in a heartbeat.”

On any other day, you would’ve chided him for saying something so cheesy – as if you haven’t gotten used to the way he speaks to you. But now, with the early evening breeze blowing all around, and the man who reminded you how it feels to be alive sitting so, so close to you…

“Can you make me yours?” you whisper.

Joshua stares at you, a low laugh rumbling in his bare chest. “You were already mine the moment you asked to come with me. Or are you forgetting that?”

Hot. His hands are hot against your hips – going lower and lower as he teases the ridge of your bottoms. God, you just want him to get it over with. You want him to grab your ass and take you by the poolside right here, right now. But you know, all too well, that Joshua isn’t going to let himself fall into the depths of his own depravity like that. Not until you give him a clearer sign.

“No…” you murmur, hoisting your thigh over his hips until you’re straddling his lap. “I want you –” You press your breasts against his lean chest. “To make me –” Your fingers trail up his neck, tangling them in his wild black hair. 

“Yours.”

You expect him to tease you like he always does – with that irritatingly handsome smile of his. But Joshua's eyes grow half-lidded as you press yourself closer to him, and you could’ve sworn his grip on your hips only became tighter. 

“You’re playing a dangerous game, pretty girl,” he warns you huskily. “I don’t want you to end up being the sore loser after I’m done with you.”

You chuckle, lips grazing his forehead, his eyelids, his nose. When you reach the spot just over his lips, you let your own hover for just a few seconds longer.

“I know,” you tell him. “I know, and I’m ready to lose.” 

If it’s you, I won’t ever mind.

Joshua lets out a strangled noise, like he’s barely holding on to what’s left of his own sanity. You’re slightly elated at the information. That just means he’s about to let himself go. To ravage you like you deserved. 

You’re not sure if it’s because of his own urgency or he’s just showing off. But Joshua makes a quick display of strength by picking you up while you’re still on his lap and getting back on his feet at the same time. He wastes no time mending your lips together – carnal and hungry and all sorts of impatient. Your legs immediately circle around his hips, and you bemoan all the days you wasted not getting kissed stupid by him.

But you console yourself with the idea that right now, you have all the time in the world.

...

The floorboards are damp with pool water, and so are the sheets. But you hardly notice it as Joshua strips you of the swimsuit he so carefully picked out for you. He tosses the spandex somewhere on the floor, and you even hear the wet plop as it hits. 

You feel like you should be cold – fresh out of the swimming pool and all – but the heat of Joshua’s body steadily permeates into yours, and can’t help but lean closer, closer, as close as you can – 

“I love you,” you whisper in-between kisses, feeling the evidence of his own arousal grinding against your own. You think the words don’t have as much weight when you’re doing something so openly intimate, but you don’t care.

He laughs, the sound sending tingles straight to your toes. “You sure you’re not just getting caught up in the moment, princess?”

You still have it in you to flash him a sulky pout, bringing his face right in front of yours as you spare him all the adoration you have in a single look. You desperately want him to know just how much you love him. You want him to carve this moment into memory and think of it even when the two of you are apart.

You want to anchor yourself so deep into Joshua that he can’t forget you even if he tries.

“Do you think I’m lying?” you whisper.

He sighs. “No.”

When he mouths the words I love you back in his own lust-fueled kisses, your heart soars; your body heats up – becoming more and more receptive to his lingering touch. Joshua’s lips never stray too far, even as he lathers the slick that’s collected between your thighs. His long fingers tease your entrance with the intention of seeing you squirm, and you hate how much you love it.

“Been waiting for you to come to me…for so long,” he growls, sliding two fingers inside you with embarrassing ease. “Do you know how hard it is to control myself around you? Especially after that time in the dressing room?”

Huh, so even he still thinks about that day. You giggle at the ferociousness of his words, but the wanton look in his eyes softens when you caress the side of his face. 

“Two weeks isn’t a long time, Shua,” you tell him. 

“It’s long enough if you’re as pent up as I am.”

As he works his fingers between your thighs, you can’t help but sneak a glance at the hard length straining against his abdomen. It’s been a while, so your mouth practically waters at the thought of Joshua sinking his thick cock inside you – fast and hard and everything you’ve ever dreamed. 

But your attention is promptly ripped away when he curls his fingers just right, catching on a patch of spongy flesh that has you writhing underneath him. Joshua smirks at that, uncoiling his thick digits as he continues slowly pumping them inside. Your juices are starting to drip on his hand – a testament to just how badly you want him. 

When he makes you come, all you see are the vibrant brown of his eyes – like honey in the spring. Joshua looks at you with so much love and longing at the same time, you nearly sob in his embrace.

Despite the implication that he’s no longer going to be patient, Joshua lets you reel your own consciousness back from the throes of pleasure – kissing your forehead tenderly as he caresses your sides. 

“Do you want to go all the way?” he asks, but you already see him stroking his own cock from where he lays beside you. “Remember, I won’t force you into anything you don’t like, princess.”

You shake your head, still lightheaded from your orgasm. But still, the clarity of your desire shines through. “I…want you, Shua. Want you inside me.”

He sighs in a way like he just doesn’t know what to do with you. At your request, Joshua reluctantly peels himself away – earning a mewl in protest from you that he appeases with a kiss. 

“Stay put, pretty girl,” he murmurs. “I’ll make you feel good in a minute.”

Joshua climbs out of bed and walks over to the dresser buck naked. But you can’t even bring yourself to tease because he’s got such a shapely ass. Not to mention, you get to see the dragon tattoo on his back again. Even if you’ve developed a fondness for the twin koi fish on his chest, there’s just something about this piece in particular that’s always left an impression on you.

True to his word, Joshua comes back to bed with you as he tears a condom open with his teeth. You have half the mind to tell him that opening it like that isn’t very safe, but when he rolls the rubber on top of his throbbing length, you’re suddenly too bashful to speak up. 

He spreads your thighs apart, making himself at home in the space in between. You just know he’s getting a kick out of the way your body trembles as he rubs the head of his cock along your glistening seam. 

“Shua,” you whine. 

“You want this inside you?” Joshua teases, dipping himself into your entrance only to pull away before you can even feel an ounce of satisfaction. “C’mon, talk to me, princess. You know I like it when you’re being honest about the things you want.”

“Please…” 

“Hm? What was that?”

You hate him. You hate him so much that the feeling gradually bleeds into love. And if you aren’t already whipped for this jerk, you don’t know what this obsessive feeling inside you is anymore.

“Please fuck me,” you whimper. “Make me come on your cock.”

Joshua breathes sharply through his nose as he leans forward, grabbing both of your wrists as he pins them above your head with one hand. He uses the other to guide his length to where you want him most, and the moment before he finally, finally breaches your entrance, he whispers:

“What the princess wants, the princess gets.”

He muffles the broken moan that catches in your throat with his own lips – his lean arm going around your waist as he presses his hips flush against yours. You’re dripping enough arousal onto the sheets that Joshua doesn’t even have to take it as slow as he expected. You instinctively clench around the hard length inside you, memorizing the way he stretches out your walls, and Joshua responds in earnest with an impertinent groan.

There’s no room for words anymore. All you know is the sound of skin against skin and your mouth almost never parting from his. Joshua fills you until the void you feared might swallow you whole becomes nothing but a tiny speck in your soul. You wonder if it’s enough to be two separate people, and not just one. His touches, his kisses – they aren’t enough. And even when he pushes himself so impossibly deep, you still find yourself wanting, craving, yearning for more.

You’re insatiable. You love Joshua so much that your heart overflows with it. Maybe you’re simply deluded because he’s the first person who’s treated you like you were important; and not just some forgettable girl he met at a bar. But that doesn’t change the fact that you want him to hold you, and touch you, and love you until you forget everything else but the syllables of his name.

He practically folds you into the bed a few moments later as he mouths his professions of love along the curve of your neck. You lock your legs around his waist to keep him as close as possible – not wanting to be apart for even a millisecond. And Joshua seems to share the same sentiments as he embraces so you’d never leave his grasp.

I need you, you wish to tell him. He’s already giving you so much and more, but you still need him. It’s the kind of hankering that nearly scares you because how can you ever live without him now? But the flames of your own, all-consuming desire quickly recede once he captures your lips in a soft, almost sensual kiss. 

“I love you,” Joshua tells you aloud. 

You know it should be impossible because your lovers from the past have never even tried to get you to orgasm once they were done with you. But the moment he utters those words, and shifts his hips at such a delicious angle, he promptly pushes you over the edge – making you thrash and shudder underneath his weight as you mutter his name like a string of prayers. 

You just hope that the gods are generous enough to let you have him forever.

…

The beaches in Seoul and Andong pale in comparison to Jeju's – you promptly realize this when Joshua brings you out to the shore a few days later.

“I’ve never really enjoyed going to beaches until now,” you admit, laughing a bit as Joshua reaches for your hand and twines his fingers with yours. “I’m surprised you even have the time to come all the way here despite being on the job.”

He shrugs casually, and at the same time you care to admire how he looks in a tropical-printed button up that’s completely undone at the front. “Well, my deadline isn’t all that strict, pretty girl. I’m sure I can afford a quick getaway with you.”

You smile at him sweetly while the both of you stroll along the beachfront. Sometimes, the waves reach out to the shore far enough for the water to reach your toes, and you squeal in delight every time you do. You’d be lying if you say you didn’t expect Joshua to tease, but when you look at him, he merely looks back like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

Like all lovers spending their morning on the beach, the two of you agreed to collect the prettiest seashells you can find. Though it was a bit hard, since there are a couple of signs indicating which ones you’re allowed to bring home, and which ones you should leave alone. Something about maintaining the ecosystem around the shore. 

But about half an hour before lunch time, Joshua calls out to you at the edge of the property.

The sundress he made you wear today flutters around your thighs as you make your way to his side. He’s crouched down on the sand as he picks up a peculiar brown shard.

“Wait,” you start, taking a closer look. “Is that a seashell? A broken seashell?”

“Seems like it,” he replies, retrieving the other pieces he can still salvage from the sand. “This doesn’t look like all the others we’ve seen though”

Joshua takes your hand and pressing the fragments into your palm. When you take a look at them, you realize the pieces are the same color as his eyes. 

“Do you…” you begin shyly, “want to make matching necklaces out of them? They’re a bit jagged now, but I know a jeweler back in Andong who –”

“Oh? So you do want to go back,” he jokes.

“Fine, never mind then.” 

Joshua’s laughter is slightly muted by the oncoming waves. Once your momentary annoyance fades, the two of you sit on the sand with your legs sprawled – letting the water tickle your toes. 

“I know I made a pretty bad joke just now, but can I ask you something?” he wonders.

“What is it?”

“It’s about the loan your dad supposedly took without your knowledge.” Joshua starts tracing idle shapes in the sand as he speaks. “You seemed in deep shit the night I met you, and I just wanted to know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

With his money and influence, you’re sure that Joshua could pull a few strings to get those debt collectors to lay off you. But it won’t really matter if you never go back to Andong, right? Still, you tell him about the five million won that your father suddenly loaned. How those loan sharks told you that he said that you’re going to pay for it all – on top of your remaining balance for the month. Just recalling it was already enough to piss you off all over again.

At the end of your story, though, Joshua ends up snorting with amusement.

“Sounds to me like you’re being tricked, princess,” he chuckles. “No one can rack up a debt that high unless you’re a trusted confidant. I’m sure the Korean mafia has limits to how much they’re willing to loan other people at a certain given time. Those loan sharks probably tricked you and forged the document because you were paying out the previous debt properly.” 

Your jaw practically drops to the ground. “They tricked me?”

“Seems like it. And now, you have grounds for a lawsuit! Maybe. I’m not sure, but I can help you pay for a lawyer if it all gets down to it.” Joshua shrugs. “Anyway, now that you know that the loan was probably a scam, why don’t you go back and talk to your old man? Isn’t he the only family you have?”

Your dad… Well, now you feel a bit bad for judging him so harshly. It doesn’t change the fact that he’s an alcoholic and a gambler, but you do see him trying to be better from time to time. 

“Yeah. My mom died when I was in high school, and it’s just been us ever since.” You tell him all this without meeting his eyes, unsure of how to react if he gazes at you with pity. But Joshua doesn’t offer his condolences, nor does he try to cheer you up. Instead, he suggests something that you probably should do.

“You should go back to your father,” he whispers. “I’m sure he’s worried sick.”

The waves wash upon the shore again, and this time, you actually turn around to look at him. Is he serious? Is this the same, so-called territorial man you met two weeks ago? If any of the things he’s told you were true, that’s the last thing you expected for Joshua to say to your face.

“If your father isn’t behind that loan fiasco, then you should at least let him know you’re okay, princess,” he tells you sincerely, rubbing your hand with comforting circles. “You’re the last family he has left, and I’m sure you know what loss does to a person.”

You sit there in the silence, letting Joshua’s words simmer inside your mind. You suppose that he’s right about everything. Those assumptions you made about your father are unfair, and you shouldn’t just abandon him now that Joshua helped clear up the misunderstanding. You know all these things, and you recognize them as what’s truthful and right. 

But…why does Joshua sound like he’s saying goodbye?

“Okay, I’ll do that,” you say, forcing your voice not to tremble. “But once you finish your mission, promise that you’ll take me to L.A.?”

He stares at you with equal parts surprise and disbelief – his handsome face twisting with a grin so lovely, you wonder why he never smiled at you like this before. Joshua shakes his head before rising back to his feet, hoisting you up by your waist as he spins you around.

You shriek in bewilderment, telling him to put you back down. He doesn’t relent right away, but once Joshua finally heeds your desperate request he sets you down on the sand – placing a chaste kiss on your forehead.

“Alright, princess. What do you want to do there?”

You puff out your cheeks, not liking how it sounds as if he’s teasing you. Nonetheless, you give him the straightest answer you can manage.

“I want to meet your family. Your parents. Your friends. Everyone,” you tell him. “I want to go fishing because you love it so much, and it helps you meditate.”

Joshua hums. “America is leagues different from Korea, though. You sure about that?”

“Hmph. You’ll make a nice tour guide, won't you?”

“Heh.” He moves closer to wrap his arms around your frame, embracing you so firmly that you can’t help but melt into his touch. “Of course I will, pretty girl. But what do you want to do after we do all that?”

You flash him a puzzled look. “What?”

“Since we’re planning so far ahead, we might as well plan until the end, right?” He chuckles, one hand going to the side of your face as he touches you tenderly. “What else does my demanding princess wish for?”

For a moment, you consider his question seriously. What happens after? Well…

“I want to travel,” you say. “I took up an international relations course when I was in college ‘cause I always wanted to see the world.”

Joshua nods. “And?”

You gulp – unsure if what you’re about to say is a bit selfish or not. “Well, getting to see some places around Korea with you was the best time of my life. And I’m sure it’ll be just as fun if we see the world together.”

It sounds like such a juvenile dream, now that you think about it. But sometimes, even the most childish desires can lead to the most unforgettable experiences. You only decided to tag along with Joshua on a whim, and it turned out to be one of the best choices you’ve ever made.

You just hope he feels the same way, too.

He nods again, a pesky smile rooting itself on his face. When Joshua kisses the hand that isn’t clutching shards of broken brown seashells, you can’t help but blush.

“What the princess wants, the princess gets.”

It’s already high noon by the time the two of you conclude your seashell hunting session, and Joshua is already complaining about breakfast not being heavy enough. You let your gaze linger around the beautiful beachfront just a bit longer, wondering if you can visit this place again with him in the future.

“Joshua?”

He pauses mid-way in his rant, gazing at you with curious, brown eyes. “Yeah?”

You crack him a warm smile. “Can you tell me your real name?”

The ocean’s waves reach your ears again in the silence, as Joshua stands in front of you like you’d just unraveled all the secrets of the universe. You don’t miss the way his emotions seemingly conflict in his eyes, but in the end, he spares you the truth anyway.

“Jisoo.”

“Do you love me, Jisoo?”

He crosses the distance between you before you can even breathe, kissing you so deeply that you’re a little concerned that some of the hotel staff might be watching and judging you on the sidelines. But you know better than to give a damn about what others think when you’re with Joshua – no, Jisoo.  

When he pulls away, you can almost see the ocean glimmering in your lover’s eyes.

“More than anything in the world.”

...

Despite that romantic morning, you can’t help but feel like something bad’s about to happen. Your mother used to tell you that you should always trust your gut. And right now, your gut is telling you that everything that’s making you unbelievably happy right now is going to disappear right before your eyes. 

The anxiousness that comes with all that foreboding does little to help you keep up appearances, too. During dinner, Joshua – because he asked you to keep calling him that in public for your own safety – was telling you about the time he almost got run over as a kid, and you completely spaced out in the middle of it.

Of course, your sharp-eyed lover is keen enough to notice just how distracted you were. You attempted to make excuses for your lack of focus, but one thing led to another, and you ended up spilling wine all over your new sundress.

And now here you are, sulking in your bedroom as Joshua makes the arrangements to have your dress dry-cleaned on the intercom before you have to leave.

“Is something wrong?”

His voice comes out so softly, you nearly miss it. He sits with you at the edge of the bed, reaching out to clasp your hand in his much larger ones. The gesture is comforting, but your unease doesn’t fade away.

Should you tell him about this weird gut feeling? But you don’t want him to worry about you when this is probably just something trivial. Yet, you’ve always been weak to your own emotions. Before you can even cook up another half-baked excuse, the tears have already started streaming down your face.

“Everything’s going so well,” you sniffle, turning to him with misty eyes. “Y-You’re right in front of me but… Why do I feel like you’re already slipping away?”

Joshua's face doesn’t betray any sort of emotion. His honeyed eyes merely flicker down to where your hands are intertwined, and you don’t know if you should take that as a good sign or not.

“I’ll always be with you, you know,” he whispers, letting one of his hands trail up to the new necklace sitting on your throat before the other moves to wipe away your tears. “Always.”

A traveling jeweler offered to fashion a necklace out of the seashell fragments you found once you got back from the beachfront. And while this isn’t the work of your acquaintance from Andong, they managed to carve out the shell to resemble a heart. They even charged you for the labor only, and gave the chain for free. At first, you wanted to refuse, but these pesky feelings were already bothering you at the beach. 

Is it so bad for you to want a tangible representation of Joshua’s promises?

The fact that he wears a similar necklace eases your troubles a bit. It makes you think that maybe it’s really all just in your head. Though you know better than to think you’re out of the woods.

That night, he undresses you with unspoken apologies imbued in each kiss. You wonder if he’s sorry for unintentionally making you feel this way or something else. You don’t know. You don’t care. Because when you’re on the verge of collapsing from all these unpleasant feelings, it’s Joshua who holds you together before you can shatter into a thousand pieces at his feet. 

That’s right… Joshua – rather, Jisoo always fills you to the brim. He fills you with so much love that you can almost forget what it feels to be void; what it feels to be empty. 

But in the midst of it, he pulls away with a regretful sigh. “We already used up the condoms I have, princess. This is as far as we can go.”

“It’s – It’s alright.”

He snaps his head in your direction, beautiful brown eyes rigid with shock. But you don’t give him any leeway to feel guilt nor hesitation. When you pull him down with you to the bed, he doesn’t strain against your touch.

Jisoo is the reason why the life you thought was so dull suddenly has more color to it now. He taught you to have a little more hope for the future. To reevaluate the past for what it actually is. And most of all, he’s the one who taught you how to treasure yourself as you are in the present. 

If this is the last night you’ll ever share with him, then you’re going to make the most out of it.

...

“So we hop on a plane to Incheon, a train to Andong, and talk to my dad.” You list down the day’s itinerary before glancing at Joshua for confirmation. “Sounds like a plan, right?”

“I dunno, princess. Meeting the parents always makes me nervous,” he chuckles.

“...So you have met the parents of other girls.”

“Hey, that was only one time!”

You and Joshua managed to head over to the airport fairly quickly the next day – with a lot of time to kill before your plane actually leaves the island. The two of you decide to hang out in the waiting lounge, but this reminds you to not be too early for your flights next time. Apart from those weird negative feelings you had last night, boredom is your greatest enemy.

About thirty minutes before boarding time, you carelessly let slip that you’re craving some coffee right now. Joshua is quick to get on his feet and get you one from a nearby vending machine, of course. But just when he’s about to take a seat right beside you, he blurts out:

“I’m really glad I met you, princess.” He smiles, handing you your drink. “Even if you’re growing more and more bratty as the days go by.”

“You’re the one who made me like this, so deal with it.” You huff, before following it up with a much nicer: “But…I’m glad I met you, too, Jisoo.”

You half-expect him to clamp a hand around your mouth for calling him by his real name, but Joshua simply lets his head rest against your shoulder, holding your hand as tenderly as he always does.

“Hey, I’m just going to go out for a real quick smoke.”

Joshua informs you of his unnecessary need for a cancer stick just when you’ve settled into your seat on the plane. You scowl at him as he places that knapsack full of cash into your arms. 

“We’re about to take off, you idiot!” you whisper. “Can’t that wait until we land in Seoul?”

“Nope.” He beams at you. “I won’t be long, don’t worry~”

And then he’s off.

“Goddamn chainsmokers,” you mutter, angrily plopping the damn backpack to the vacant seat right next to you. 

As you watch the scenery in the airport unfold from the window to your left, you catch sight of your own reflection despite the bright light outside. Your hands trail up to the modified seashell around your neck, twirling it fondly between your fingers. This is the first solid proof of the time you spent with Joshua. You’re sure that he’s going to spoil you with even more gifts when you get to L.A., but this one is probably going to be your favorite for a long, long time. 

After all, this seashell is the same color as his eyes. 

Suddenly, you hear a clicking sound coming from above, and when you glance around, you see that the seatbelt sign is lit up. A soft voice flits through the speakers, informing all passengers that the aircraft is ready for takeoff. Frowning deeply, you call the attention of a nearby attendant. 

“Excuse me, my boyfriend isn’t here yet.”

She stares at you, puzzled. “I’m sorry, miss. But we confirmed that all paid passengers are already in their seats.”

At that second, your world crumbles. The void begins to rip itself back into your heart. The attendant asks if there’s anything wrong, but you dismiss her with a shake of your head.

Why do I feel like you’re slipping away from my fingers?

As you sit all alone in that plane, you realize that your mother was right all along. 

You should’ve trusted your goddamn gut.

...

Joshua smokes through half his pack of cigarettes when he makes it outside the airport – lingering by the parking lot as he watches each plane soar into the sky. He has no idea which one you’re on, or if you’re even still here on Jeju Island. But with each painful drag he forces into his lungs, he finds himself praying.

Praying that you’ll forgive him for what he just did. Praying that you’ll be able to find happiness even without him. 

His phone rings before his guilt gets the better of his emotions. The name S.Coups flashes on the encrypted caller ID.

“Took you long enough to pick up,” the informant sighs. “For someone who’s in dire need of intelligence, you’re acting awfully lax, Shua. Let’s see… You’re looking for Jeonghan. Is that right?”

He kills his last cigarette under his heel – all those feelings you effortlessly stirred up inside him dying along with the waning flame.

“Bullseye,” he replies, voice tinged with his usual mirth despite feeling like he’s just lost everything good in his life. “You got anything for me?”

Yeah, that’s right.

You don’t need someone like him to be happy.

…

The hotel room you booked for the night is small and quiet.

When you shut the door behind you, the sound rings in your ears – loud enough to emphasize that you’re all alone. You decide not to pay it any mind before dragging the rest of your luggage further inside. 

When you arrived at Incheon Airport a few hours earlier, you couldn’t even muster up the tears. All you felt was that familiar emptiness that never seemed to leave you alone until Joshua came into your life. A dreadful void that was twice as massive now that you got a taste of how it feels like to be whole. 

Once you’ve claimed your baggage, you wasted no time ushering yourself out of the terminal. You’ve long decided to stay in Incheon for a while, given that you couldn’t exactly meet your father in such a state. But before making your way to the nearest hotel you could find, you made it a point to stop by a convenience store to buy a lighter and pack of cigarettes. 

For someone who’s more loaded than you could ever hope to be, Joshua liked smoking cheap brands. He told you it’s because those things could easily be bought anywhere. But his reasons for the odd preference were the last thing on your mind as you light up the first stick – taking a long drag that ends up making you cough out smoke and brings tears in your eyes. 

You fucking hate cigarettes. This is going to be one of the cold hard truths in your life. You hated them when you still worked as a hostess, and you hated them every time Joshua had the gall to smoke one in front of you.

…But this is the only piece of him that you have left to cling to. You like to think that each stick can help fill the void, even if it’s just smoke and ashes and false hopes. You always wondered why Joshua couldn’t bring himself to forego the habit. But maybe – just maybe – there’s also a void inside him. One that can’t easily be filled, the same one you’ve always struggled with.

Before that train of thought can fester any longer, you kill it along with the fifth cancer stick you’ve had for the day. The ashtray is full of cigarettes you could barely smoke past the filter, but you’re not about to give a shit.

In the solitude of your room, you wonder if you can ever forget those sunsets in Jeju. How your toes sank into the sand. How the salty ocean breeze tossed your hair around. If you close your eyes, you can still feel it on your skin.

But most of all, you ask yourself – can you ever forget Jisoo?

His eyes. His hair. His stupid tattoos. You abhorred how he always smelled like cigarettes, yet you’ve locked yourself up in some fancy hotel room to smoke a few just because you’re left with a ridiculous amount of laundered cash. Along with the bags full of those pretentious gifts he gave you, you selfishly kept the money because you deserve the goddamn means to take a real break from it all.

You don’t pay attention to the rest of your luggage – eyes solely focused on the knapsack lying idly on the mattress. Against your better judgment, you force yourself back to your feet, padding towards the bed as you open the zipper. 

Cash, cash, another wad of cash. You scoop every single piece out of the bag for no real reason. Is this solving any of your problems? No. Does it help you vent out your feelings? Yes. 

Stupid Jisoo, and his stupid fucking promises. Well, he never explicitly promised you anything, but still! What kind of evil maniac lets a hapless maiden fall in love with them, only to leave them hanging? Not all unfortunate ladies who’ve been pathetically led on by a handsome man were left with hundreds of thousands of won as some sort of compensation, sure. But that didn’t change the fact that you were fucking grieving.

You wanted to shout. To break something. To curse Jisoo Whatever-his-last-name-is so he can never find another woman like you. But once you reach the bottom of the knapsack, your anger is quick to go up in smoke.

There’s a red baseball cap inside – the same one Jisoo was wearing the night you met him.

You didn’t cry when you realized the love of your life had left you without saying goodbye. You didn’t cry as you carried your luggage alone in the airport. You didn’t cry either when you marched into this lonely, lonely hotel room.

But somehow, seeing that bright red cap made everything crash over you like a tidal wave.

“I thought you loved me more than anything in the world,” you murmur to yourself, holding that silly hat to your chest like a goddamn lifeline. 

“Was that a hoax all along...Jisoo?”

...

The small village near Silverwood Lake is remote yet accessible at the same time. It’s the heart of tourism in the lesser known counties in California, so it comes as no surprise to see a dozen people bustling in and out of the borders.

In that same town, a young boy with big brown eyes wanders around the market – dark tufts peeking from beneath a tattered baseball cap. Though he seems like any other local his age, he doesn't actually know the language. His English is still a bit lacking, but he swears half of the time that his mother teaches him bits and pieces when she has time.

Right now, she’s somewhere by the lakeside, talking with an important political figure in the town as his entourage shows her around the area. The boy wasn’t a fan of all those pleasantries, so he asked her if he could look around in the market instead. Like all mothers, her initial reaction was to tell him no, but eventually, the puppy eyes he’s practiced on her for years made good on their purpose.

Fine. Just don’t wander too far, Shuji. Promise?

As much as he dislikes breaking promises with his mother – he knows how sensitive she is about those, despite her age – the young boy figures that what she doesn’t know won’t kill her. He’s fifteen now. Even if he’s in a foreign country, he’s smart enough not to get lost in unfamiliar places.

So, when he finds nothing interesting in the market, the boy follows a merchant’s route that bypasses a huge forest. This is the road that he and his mother took on the way to the town, so he’s slightly familiar with the terrain. But still, the perspectives are warped when one traverses it on foot.

He follows the route just like he initially planned – admiring the looming pine trees rising everywhere he looked. His mother has taken him to all sorts of places because of her job, but America might make it to the top of his list at this rate. Though, his eyes are quick to spot a fork in the road – one barely visible unless you know what you’re looking for. 

The boy glances around, but no one else is in sight.

Ravens caw overhead as he traverses the stray path. Dead leaves and crunch underfoot as the trees seem to grow thicker around him. Anyone else would feel terrified of being in such a place, but the boy has always had a knack for braving the unknown.

His courage is rewarded once he arrives at the end of the road, revealing a magnificent lake that he could never hope to see if he’d stuck to the main route. This one's different from Silverwood Lake. It's much smaller, and less polluted by civilization.

He stares at the scenery with wide eyes, taking out his phone from the pocket of his jacket before snapping a few pictures to show his mother for later.

“Hey, kid. What are you doing here?”

The boy startles at the sound of another voice, and he realizes that there’s another person sharing this view with him. A man, much older than he is, sits on a foldable chair by the edge of the lake – fishing rod in hand as he tosses the reel into the water.

“Just…looking around.” He only replies with broken English because he doesn’t think the stranger is someone sketchy. The boy even notices the sturdy looking crutch propped against his seat. “What are you doing?”

For a moment, the man simply looks at him before surprising the boy with very fluent Korean.

“Fishing. What else do you think it looks like, kid?” the man says a-matter-of-factly as he rakes his fingers through his dark yet graying hair. 

He gulps before switching to his mother tongue. “There’s fish underneath?”

“Of course there's fish underneath.” The fisherman rolls his eyes. “You’re not from around here, are you? You lost?”

The boy shakes his head. “I told you, I was just looking around.”

“Okay. Tell your parents to come get you then,” the man tells him – growing slightly annoyed at his peaceful fishing session having been interrupted. 

“My mother’s busy. My father’s a scumbag who left her alone.” The young boy shrugs. “I’m pretty much free to do whatever I want, mister.”

A few moments pass by in silence, and he wonders if he said something strange. But either way, the man’s irritation morphs into amusement. “Shitty dad, huh?” he chuckles. “That’s right. Don’t ever forgive the people who’d hurt your mom. What’s your name, kid?”

The stranger jolts his fishing rod before the boy can give an answer, hauling a fish out of the water right before his eyes before dumping his latest catch in a wicker basket. 

“Jisoo,” the boy tells him. “But my mom calls me Shuji”

To his surprise, the man simply nods. “Cool name.”

“Aren’t you going to say it’s weird or something?”

“Now you’re just asking too many questions.”

“My mom said it’s common courtesy to exchange names on the first meeting,” the boy huffs. “So are you going to tell me or not?” 

The man sighs. “You’re really demanding for a kid. Kinda reminds me of someone I used to know.”

“...I’m leaving.”

“Ah! Wait a sec, lemme just pack up and I’ll head back to the harbor with you. If you wander around, you might just get mauled by the wolves,” the man tuts, already putting away his reel before folding his chair back up. That’s when the boy notices a glint of brown attached to a cord around his neck. He squints.

Has he seen that necklace before? 

But there isn’t exactly much room to ponder about that. The man is struggling to tidy up on both feet – clearly unfit to protect anyone from woodland predators. The boy wonders if he’s injured himself so badly before that the aftermath still lingers. But still, he finds it a bit awkward to just stand around, so he walks over to him with a defeated sigh, offering to carry the fish basket and chair in his stead.

“What happened to your leg?” he wonders.

The man brushes the hair out of his face, looking forward as he leans on his crutch. “Got fucked up by a bunch of…gangsters a few years back. Haven’t been the same since.”

“...My mom knows a lot of doctors all over the world,” the boy says. “I’m sure she can find someone who can help you walk normally again.”

“Hm? Aren’t you being too generous to someone you just met, kid?”

He frowns. “I was taught by mom to treat everyone with basic decency.”

“Heh. You really love your mom, don’t you? Does she travel a lot?”

“For work, yeah. She’s a diplomat.” 

The boy wonders if this is really okay. His mother might just be mortified at the thought of her only son talking to a stranger like they’ve known each other for years. But there’s just something about this man that he can’t quite pin down. Something that makes it easy to talk to him, even if they only met literally ten minutes earlier.

Well, his mother was looking for fresh catches to have for dinner anyways. Maybe she’ll let his penchant for making friends in unlikely places slide once he introduces her to this strange fisherman with fucked up legs.

⟢ end notes: if you made it this far, congrats UEYRUEF I KNOWWWW i have a shit ton of wips waiting in line, but i've been contemplating abt repurposing this fic for joshua for SOOOOO LONG. after hearing some advice from a few friends, i decided to just go for it and viola! 18k words shua angst was born out of nowhere. i felt so EMPTY the first time i finished writing it, so i hope you feel the same way too :3c

[pix-writes]

I just watched Pride&Prejudice and I cannot stop thinking about love confessions, how would the Grunkles confess their feelings? I imagine Mabel wanting so bad to do a sort of kiss the girl situation with a boat and romantic music lmao

I find it difficult to say exactly how they would both confess their feelings, just because I think it really depends on the relationship and certain circumstances to be honest?

But, yeah! I definitely think Mabel would want to intervene (and therefore rope Dipper into helping her), using her adorable powers for good intentions, but ultimately perhaps is a little more niave than she realises when it comes to trying to set adults up with each other lol ^_^' I love Mabel, her heart is in exactly the right place (so I forgive her immediately), but she is a 13-ish year old girl! Setting people up in such cliche/obvious scenarios could very likely go wrong, and by wrong I mean her efforts may not have the outcomes she expects! (btw I'm not saying it would backfire terribly, but it might deter some suitors if just from sheer awkwardness)

To be honest and fair to her, she is right these grumpy grunkles DO need pushing in the right direction✨towards you, beautiful reader! ✨especially in the initial stages, she will definitely be encouraging them to talk to you, get them to try to open up and talk with you about what interests you might have and maybe share, so they (she) can know if they're the right match for them. She's their biggest cheerleader and supporter and she'll have bragging rights at your eventual wedding because of course she knew you were right for each other! Mabel simply loves love! (more under cut)

Realistically though, I think after the events surrounding the Love God and the Stans' lives after the series ends, I think Mabel will be just a tad less chaotic/intense with her matchmaker tendencies and in turn the grunkles may brush her off (gently) from any big, romatic set-ups. They certianly don't need their grand-niece to orchestrate getting somebody's number or asking someone on a date! Anyways, romance is complicated and the grunkles have too much baggage to want to launch into something so suddenly.

Though they will cave in under some of her advice/encouragements to spend time with you, however that may be (like I said, they both have a track record of being a bit hopeless lol). And she is a good source of some creative date ideas, too.

I think Stan would most likely want to make more of his confession, make it on a date night where you go to some nice restaurant by the sea or something, but either he backs out of it for some reason or another and feels like he's floundering, he just needs to tell you, what's scary about that? (ah, the fear of rejection, we all know it!) Instead, it ends up slipping out of his mouth in a more mundane setting. Like maybe you're both on the porch, you come back with a drink, not just for yourself but for him too, or you've come round to help him because both of the kids got the flu and he needs someone to go to the store, or he's helping you unpack your groceries, or you're just talking shit and joking with each other one evening on the stan o war II - and he comes out with it causally, hardly thinking, "I love you, you know?" or "Thanks, sweetheart. Love ya." and then once he realises what he's said it's like the moment has been shattered. He hasn't moved but he's panicking internally and trying to get his brain to catch up to his goddamn mouth to say something else - and then! You accept it. You say you love him too and he'll feel the relief of it once he's gone through another few minutes or so of disbelief that you love him back! haha ;w;

That doesn't mean he couldn't do the big confession, in fact, I think he'd give it his best shot, he can be romantic and he has watched a lot of period dramas and they seem silly to him in reality but shouldn't he try to do that for you? But it's in a very Stan way 😅 It's very sweet of him to make a lovey speech on your anniversary, even if he messed it up near the end and gave up on what he was trying to say. The fact that he loses some of his smooth composure in front of you just shows you how important you are to him, so its still effective. Oh, and he takes you out dancing too! Actions can be just a effective as words in this case ;) Stanley is here to sweep you off your feet one way or another and he damn well knows how to give you a fun night out (Now shush and make out with me in the stanmobile, handsome!)

Ford would likely be a little the same, just different in approach. I think he'd like to make his confession privately, even if you're on a date, he wants it to feel like its between you both. He feels those three words in his throat like its stuck there all the time, it crops up in those little moments, he's watching you tidy up the lab or putting a blanket over stan and the kids who have fallen asleep on the boat, or in the morning when you're both in the kitchen waiting for the coffee to be done and he's marvelling at the wonder and beauty that is you in the early sunrise and how you seemed to love him, something he never expected to happen - but he feels like he can't say it, he wants so badly to say it, but he doesn't know how to just 'bring it up' and then the moment passes. Until the next one. Then he starts getting frustrated with himself, why can't he simply get the words out? What if you don't really like him as he has begun to believe and you reject him? Why must he hold himself in this limbo? He needs to move forwards!

But he doesn't know how to bring it up, he's created speeches in his head or written his confession down, he scoffs at himself for acting like some lovesick teenager when he discards draft number 11 and goes to put it into the shredder (so no one can come across it accidentally and read it). I feel like it could go a lot of ways, perhaps you indicate, not too overtly or too subtly, some hint towards your love for him on a date and it gives him the push he needs to finally say it. In this instance, he tries his best to do a small speech about his love for you, stuttering a little as he confesses, because he sees how you're looking at him and it's making his heart beat faster because, oh wow, you love him too! Maybe he doesn't finish because you can't take it any longer and give him a smooch. yay! ^-^

Or in one of those small everyday moments he bites the bullet and confesses. Or maybe you're going out on one of your shared adventures and he stops you for a moment to blurt it out, unable to contain it because he wants you to know why he's so protective over you before you go any further.

"I love you, (name). I think I've loved you for some time now, and I hope you do too? I just... didn't know how to say it, before."

[adrienneleclerc]

Hey there I was wondering if you could write for Henry Cavill and can it be something like y/n is kind of a newly famous younger singer and is on the Graham Norton Show with Henry and you know he’s always kind of been objectified which kind of makes me sad so maybe Graham mentions that y/n is a fan of Henry and he assume it’s mostly about his looks but y/n asks Henry about gaming and stuff like War Hammer and stuff and he’s really happy that it’s not just a bout his looks and it’s a cute moment as they bond about that stuff and maybe turns a little flirty. Hope that makes sense x

This is so cute! I have watched some Graham Norton interviews with Henry Cavill and I have looked up about War Hammer to make it as accurate as possible, Y/N will be 28, I believe that age gap is good, 12 year age gap like my parents’, hope you like it! Like always, it will be Hispanic Reader because you didn’t clarify ☺️

Nerds in Love

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Henry Cavill and Y/N bond over their love for Warhammer and World of Warcraft in the most unlikely place.

Warning: no warnings.

A/N: im sorry if I keep mentioning Eiza González in my Henry Cavill fanfics but she is literally the only Latina that can be linked to him, the only other Latina is technically Shakira and I don’t think they even talked. Also, I LOVE Becky G so she will ALWAYS be like a reference when it comes to outfits or songs when writing about “singer! Reader”

Y/N was in the recording booth, recording her new song.

“Soy muy buena niña, 100 de calificación, tengo todo bien resuelto, vivo chill de vacación, cerveza, billar, dados, tacos son mi tradición, pero tú eres idiota.” Y/N sang but her manager made a signal to stop and the backing track stopped, Y/N took off her headphones. “What’s going on? I thought it was sounding really good.” Y/N got out of the booth.

“It was, it really was, my dear, but I got a call and Graham Norton wants you on his show as his musical guest.” Y/N manager, Milagros, said. Y/N got a water bottle out of the mini fridge by the soundboard.

“Graham Norton? I didn’t think I was popular enough with the UK crowd, I just started.” Y/N said, drinking water.

“Your song was in a movie, you gained a lot of fans from that. Plus, you’d be surprised how many Europeans LOVE Latinas. Would you be interested? He wants you in 2 weeks.” Milagros said

“I don’t know if I can, I don’t even watch the show.” Y/N said.

“Well, i thought you’d be interested since Henry Cavill will be one the guests.” Milagros said, she turned to leave the studio.

“In 2 weeks, right?” Y/N asked.

“Yes! Okay so Henry Cavill will be there with Eiza González, and Henry Goulding. I’m gonna make the call, continue recording, this song is going to be a hit, I know it.” Milagros walked away to make the call.

“Okay compa, do we start from the top?” Y/N asked, stepping into the booth.

“Yes, that would be preferable.” The music producer said.

Y/N was backstage getting her makeup done.

“Oh my god, I’m so nervous. I’ve seen what people have said about Renee Rapp and how she has no media training, these people will rip me to shreds.” Y/N began to panic to Milagros.

“A ver, mi niña, cálmate, You’re going to be great, you’re going to sing your heart out, sit with the Henries and Eiza, and answer some questions that Graham might have about your musical journey. You’ve been working for this, you’ll be great.” Milagros said. Y/N was wearing a decent performance outfit that’s also TV appropriate.

“And welcoming the Latin Pop Princess of the moment, here’s Y/N L/N singing her hit, ‘Arranca’” Graham announced and Y/N walk out on stage wearing this.

She sang her song and everyone applauded. Y/N walked over to sit next to Henry Goulding.

“Y/N, that was a spectacular performance, honestly.” Graham complimented her.

“Oh thank you, I was very nervous, this is my first TV appearance.” Y/N responded.

“Does not seem like it. I’ve heard that you are a big fan of Henry Cavill.” Graham said.

“Oh yes, I really am.” Y/N responded, nodding her head excitedly.

“Are you a fan of his shirtless movie scenes?” Graham asked and Y/N laughed a little before catching a glimpse of Henry who looked a little uncomfortable with Graham’s question.

“No actually, I became a fan of his when I discovered that he’s into Warhammer as well.” Y/N replied and Henry looked at her.

“Really?” Henry asked.

“Yes! I’ve collected quite a few, sometimes I just don’t have the time to paint all of them so there are a few figurines left untouched.” Y/N said.

“Whenever you finish painting, we should play together sometime.” Henry said.

“I’d like that a lot actually, it’s a dream come true to okay Warhammer with the great Henry Cavill, are you kidding?” Y/N said and there a few laughs.

“So Y/N, you’re still new to the industry, only being signed for what, 5 months? How did you get discovered?” Graham asked

“Well, my friend was holding this fundraiser because she runs that performing arts school in New York, the one Timothee Chalamet went too…” Y/N started and there were cheers in the crowd. “Yeah, Timothee is popular, anyway, she needed to replace a performer who got sick, she knows I sing, so instead of playing world of Warcraft that night, I was singing on stage and this woman, who is now my manager, came up to me with this tall guy and said I had a really great voice and if I was interested in becoming a singer.” Y/N said.

The last 6 minutes of the show was just Y/N answering questions because she is new to the industry. When the show finished, Y/N was walking backstage when she felt someone touch her shoulder. She turned around and saw Henry.

“You play world of Warcraft too?” Henry asked.

“Yeah, I do. Along with The Witcher, it’s actually the reason why I became a fan of you. I know I said it with Graham, but it’s awesome that there’s a celebrity with the same hobbies as me, you know? Besides, it’s fun to surprise people who only see me as a pretty face.” Y/N said.

“Yes, I feel the same way, a lot of people see my body and they become a fab of me because they think I’m hot.” Henry said.

“I mean you are hot, but you are so much more than that.” Y/N said

“What do you feel about getting dinner with me right now?” Henry asked. Y/N looked down at her outfit.

“Let me change and I’ll let Milagros know.” Y/N said.

“I’ll wait for you outside the door so we can leave together.” Henry said and Y/N went to her dressing room and told Milagros everything.

“Ay mija, Im so excited for you. Have fun, tell me everything.” Milagros said, giving Y/N her change of clothes.

Y/N walked out and saw Henry on his phone. He looked up as soon as he heard the door open and close.

“You look great. Let’s go.” Henry said, holding out his arm so Y/N could hold on as they started walking out of the studio.

The End

I hope you like it! I was thinking of a part 2 where Henry and Y/N are on the show again and Y/N sings “So American” and they just talk about their relationship. If you think that’s a good idea that is

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