#dedicated to my ex-fiance

[the-boy-meets-evil]

not according to plan | hjs

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well hello,” your best friend answers. 

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

“This is gonna be good,” he responds. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck that guy,” Jeonghan interjects.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I hate you,” Jeonghan snorts. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It works.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I…what?” you sputter out. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I try to be,” you agree. 

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

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

“Is he not?” Joshua wonders.

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

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

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

“Fine,” Joshua agrees. 

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

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

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

“Why that one?” you ask. 

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

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

“You look great,” Joshua assures you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?” you ask.

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

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

“Sometimes those are the best…” Joshua starts.

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

“You and him slept together?” Joshua questions.

“Is that weird for you?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

“Not finding the right people?” Joshua presses.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fair point,” Joshua concedes. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s so kind,” you whisper out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s a very long rule,” you note.

“Deserved, though,” Jeonghan says.

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

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

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

“Oh did he now?” 

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

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

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

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

“You said it,” you mumble.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That was fast,” Jeonghan comments.

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

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

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

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

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

“Who’s there?” Jeonghan asks. 

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

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

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

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

“Sorry, gotta go,” you say.

“Oh no, no, no,” Jeonghan tries.

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

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

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

“Jeonghan?” Joshua guesses.

“Unfortunately,” you confirm. 

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

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

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

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

“Yup,” Joshua says.

“Gonna tell me what it is?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s so sweet,” you say earnestly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“For what?” he asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, why?” he asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s not actually fine. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Definitely,” Joshua insists. 

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

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

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

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

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

“I wasn’t invited,” Mimi pouts. 

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

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

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

“Damn, okay. I’m in,” Mimi says. 

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

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

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

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

“Do you have it saved?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

“Ugh, I’m so single,” Mimi whines. 

“Maybe not after the wedding,” Hyejin teases. 

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

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

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

“Thank you,” you whisper back. 

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

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

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

“Try again, sweetheart,” you answer. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

None of that comes out, though. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They like you, too,” you assure him.

“What about you?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course,” you whisper.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he does, less than an hour later.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I hate you,” he says.

“I know,” you answer. 

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

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

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

Damn. Did you really walk right into that?

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

“Talk to me,” Jeonghan urges. 

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

“Joshua,” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

“Really dating him,” Jeonghan says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He’s just nice, Han,” you disagree.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now,” he says.

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it?” you wonder.

“A surprise,” he answers.

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

“You will,” he assures you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure,” you say and step aside. 

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

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

“Because we had plans,” he says. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do we?” you challenge. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” Joshua says tightly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” you whisper back.

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

“No,” is all you can manage.

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

“But,” you start to protest. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We were pretending,” you argue.

“I wasn’t,” he argues back.

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

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

“Well, no, but…” you start.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You can’t just say…” he starts.

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

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

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

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

“You look…” he starts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?” you ask, clearly confused.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure, you pick,” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No silly pet name?” you tease him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I need you,” you utter. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s that?” you ask.

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

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

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

“That drawer,” you say and point. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you okay?” he worries.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank fuck,” he mumbles. 

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

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

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

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

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

“You were pretty perfect yourself,” you say. 

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

“Don’t you dare,” you warn. 

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

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

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

He’s not. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck,” you nearly scream. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You feel so good,” you moan. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I need to talk to you,” he says.

“Why?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I come in?” he asks.

“No. What about Joshua?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nice dig,” he says. 

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

“What?” Johnny asks. 

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

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

“We’re done, Johnny,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, I’m good,” you say.

“You sure?” he asks.

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

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

“For what?” you ask.

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

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

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

“You make it easy,” you admit. 

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

“What?” he asks when you pull away.

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

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

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

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

[fanaticsnail]

The Break is Never Easy

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 5,175

Synopsis: You were invited as an artist to showcase your work at the bi-anual ball thrown for the marines. A decade has passed between you and your severance from your ex-fiance, old flames reigniting as tension builds throughout the night.

Themes: Marine!Bogard x Artist!Reader, right person wrong time, dance series fic, lost love, love reignited, angst, domestic angst, military themes, death suggested, love found once more, dancing, miliary ball/gala.

Notes: This fic is dedicated to the beautiful @i-am-vita, creator of the banner for the storyteller au collaboration for Mihawk's Sapsorrow. Bogard’s angsty chapter for the dance-fic series is all for you, dear! 

Tag List: @sordidmusings @gingernut1314 @feral-artistry @writingmysanity @since-im-already-here

"You had my heart // I had yours too // My fight’s withdrawn, believe me // The break is never easy"

Staring at the ornate canvas encrusted in gold, you allowed a warm smile to rise against your lips to highlight your face with its mastery. This, your prized creation in the entirety of your collection, was the reason you had been invited to showcase your artistic skill within the ballroom of the upper class admirals within their bi-anual commemoration ball. 

The imagery within the oil painting showcased the grief of war: the violence within battle, alongside the families they left behind as they ran off to rid the world of the ravenous plague of piracy. A valley of skulls littered alongside the crystal shores of a cove you knew well in childhood; the woman within held resemblance to yourself, distant enough to not draw similarity within the crowd; the version of yourself a decade your junior as she clung to her marine lover. 

Her back had been riddled with bullets, the blood cascading down her back, as she shielded her Marine lover from their incoming carnage. Holding the woman by the waist, the expression of immense bittersweet adoration and sorrow, resembled the younger version of your ex-fiance. 

Crafting this depiction of war caused you to experience the pain over and over again, feeling the exact moment your heart shattered into a million pieces as he left you. The words he spoke to you, the tone he used, the feeling of his hand caressing your cheek to wipe your tear stricken face of the falling droplets of sorrow - all depicted in the utter chaos within the portraiture. 

You raise your glass of sparkling wine to your lips; the amber hue bounding from the glass as you take a small sip of the liquid within. The beading of the bubbles tickled against your tongue, the bitterness of the tannins dancing with the sweetness of the juice as it trickled down your throat. Feeling a presence beside you, you withdrew the glass from your lips and crossed your arms. 

“Is this one of yours?” the familiar brogue of the man who stole your ex-fiance from you caused your spine to tingle and the bile coat your tongue with its flavor. 

“Does it surprise you to be informed that it is?” you retorted, refusing to break eye-contact with your painting to spare the gentleman at your side the luxury of a glance. The warm chuckle felt oddly comforting despite your disdain for the gentleman. His voice held a brutish warmth within, almost pride in standing next to such an accomplished artist within their field. 

“Not in the slightest,” he confessed with the small shake of his head. At this comment, you turned to face him. Your dress danced at your feet, the slit from ankle to thigh flashing a moment of exposed skin to him as you drew yourself closer to the man who stole your love from you. He extended his right hand to you in a gesture for you to take it, an action you reciprocated by placing your right hand within his palm. 

“In fact, love,” he uttered, drawing your hand up to his lips and brushing them against your knuckles, “I have never been more proud to be proven wrong.” He withdrew your knuckles from his lips, the tingling sensation of his stubble remaining behind as he released your hand from his.

“Wrong in what capacity, Vice-Admiral Garp?” Your narrowed eyes held your question with more venom than what you had originally intended, the sting of the break festering beneath your skin the longer you stayed within the aura of your painting. The dryness of his humorless chuckle stung against the rapidly reopening wounds of your sorrow; both of your attention being recalled to the painting of the defeated woman within the arms of her Marine lover. 

“Artists serve a purpose in war,” he commented, bowing to the painting before turning and bowing further to you, “And I was wrong to trigger such a break in union from my right hand and his bonnie lass.” Upon hearing those words, you felt the swell of vindication in your blood swell to your heart and mind. 

If you remained the person you were ten years your junior, you may have yelled, screamed, hit, slapped and gnashed your teeth at the highly decorated vice-admiral at your side. In your decade of severance from your lover, you had learnt to navigate the upper class and to smolder the flames of your raw emotions enough to articulate your meaning verbally alone. 

“How honorable of you to repent a decade in the latter to the event, sir,” you nodded, your lips curling up in a smirk hidden by your chin’s tilt. Rising from your stoop, you held the brutal gaze of the vice admiral and remained unflinching in your resolve, “May the next time you assume weakness amongst the arts, you think back to this moment and make the wiser decision.” 

“Aye, that I will,” he nodded, a knowing twinkle held within his intense and wild eyes, his decorum faltering as the beast within him lurked beneath, “And should Bogard ever attempt to push back on a hard boundary again, I may yet acquiesce to his request.” The sting of the name of your ex-fiance had your blood swelling, the hurt remaining and resurfacing the longer you stood next to Vice-Admiral Garp. You stepped toward him, your body smothered by his great height, but unwavering in your resolve.

“May your heart be open to receive such pushback, Vice-Admiral,” you nodded, awaiting dismissal from one so high in the commanding chain against a meager civilian. 

“Rest assured, bonnie,” he stepped closer to you, clapping a hand over your shoulder in a gesture of familiarity, “It will be.” At that, and a brief nod, you both departed from your proximity to the painting while watching eyes held firm to your departure from the shadows of the corner of the room.

Bogard held onto your every word; his heart swelling at every syllable departing from your lips. He had not heard a whisper of your voice in over a decade, the silence plaguing him with each moment that passed in your absence. His eyes stuck to your frame at your departure from his commanding officer, and captain, Garp. The way your dress swelled at your feet, the way the hem cascaded down the exposed skin of your back to the hue of the material illuminating beneath the lights. 

After all this time, Bogard’s heart belonged to you. His soul screamed at him to rush forward and hold you in his arms, smothering you with open adoration and affection; regardless of who’s eyes were watching. The unspoken concept that was holding him from sprinting to your side, was the mystery surrounding your correspondence to the letters and calls he attempted to reach you with. 

He had stretched his resources until they snapped, breaking off relationships with communicators and transponders that held only silence in response to his heart dissected upon the pages of the parchment paper sent to you. For the first three years of serving Vice-Admiral Garp as his right hand man, he was an emotionless drone and lackey. His only outlet was sketching and scribing his mind to you and sending you his thoughts from the corners of the blue sea he had found himself traveling within. 

Nothing. Not a semblance of a whisper of a word. His heart was met with a cold, hard nothing. No simple “okay,” no complex hatred and rage scrolled onto a tanned page of scrap paper. Nothing. In that uncertainty, he had no idea how you would respond to such a swell of affection. 

Have you moved on? Were you married? Did you have a beau or a spouse? Did they court you the way he did? These questions remained unanswered, even as you reached for another glass of sparkling amber wine and drew up your emptied former glass to place on the tray. He had to know. Moving forward from the shadows, he glanced up at the painting his superior and the former holder of his heart were glancing at. 

His breath was stolen from his lungs as his eyes met the painting. The imagery was so intensely intimate, he felt a blush begin to litter his face with its warmth. He didn’t know how to feel, angered that his likeness was depicted in such a way, or proud that this moment of time was artistically captured within the brushstrokes within each injury depicted within. It was beautiful. 

Each movement within the piece had his heart cracking like porcelain meeting concrete at a harsh velocity. He could see your heart, your soul; his ex-fiance and holder of his affection depicting such unjust injury upon the canvas. 

You smiled at the attendees. Young marine cadets who sparked and jittered in place with their hands clenched and nervous had your heart swooning in memory of the man who held your heart in your youth. The small string orchestra swelled their melody, your body swaying in response to their bow-strokes and finger-picks almost against your will.

Several members of the attendees had joined the circular dance floor, swaying jovially to the rhythmic beat and swell of the melody with precision. You smiled a vocalless laugh in encouragement of a pink-haired cadet out of their depth dancing with a skilled marine dancer, Vice-Admiral Garp also spinning a widow on the dancefloor within his skilled arms. Although you had reservations about the vice-admiral, you did appreciate the intention behind the break he caused with your beloved. 

He wanted to protect you in a multitude of ways, your youthful wonder being your downfall in assuming the best in those around you. Your artistic soul was not meant for war, no matter the individual who held your affection. But in time apart from Bogard, your heart began to harden and turn wrathful. You changed your familial name, fled to a new beginning to make something of yourself as you processed your grief. 

With no name nor family to hold you back, you thrived in your artistry. Your popularity gained and nurtured you with each piece created by those rallying to your support. The first item you produced with a piece of your soul scribed within the canvas was the piece you were staring at with Garp moments prior. In the silver healing of your scars, you silently thanked Garp for prying you apart from your beloved Bogard to allow you to depict such pain upon the page.

As the serenade concluded, you applauded the musicians with your hands and a joyous cheer flung from your lips. You also applauded those brave enough to dance, nodding to Garp in respect with a small smile he reciprocated. 

A presence fell to your side, the familiar cologne drawing up to your face and alerting you of his presence before he had even spoken a word. You tensed, your newly emptied glass clutched firmly within your strong grip before an attendee wordlessly collected it from your fingertips. 

Neither of you could find the words to articulate to one another, feeling the tension gathering between your bodies with each inhale and exhale you took silently beside each other. You refused to be the one to break the silence. He was the one to end your union, he should be the one to apologize. 

Bogard did not know how to approach your silence: the same silence he was met with for each letter he sent to your residence depicting his heart; piece by piece. He wanted so desperately to cast all decorum and title aside and simply escort you outside and fall to his knees and beg for an answer to a single question be asked within the pages. 

Questions you had no knowledge of. No parchment paper, scrap nor call had found you on the other end of his many stretches from his base to your home. How could it have? You had changed all you were to become who you are. No name tied you to your history, abandoned alongside your heart cast aside by Bogard now standing beside you. 

“Would you care to dance?” he asked after clearing his throat, prompting you to turn your chin towards him to meet his darkened eyes. 

After all this time, his aura still held the same pull it always had. You felt your soul call for him, your body almost moving against its will to be pulled into his arms. You curtseyed deeply, prompting a small click of his tongue and turn of his head in displeasure. 

“I would be honored,” you uttered monotonously, extending your right hand to him for him to claim within his left. Your breath hitched at the contact, prompting you to mentally scold yourself at such a response. 

As your eyes met, you almost looked past the man he was now to the boy who held your heart a decade ago. His eyes held a similar reflection, meeting with the person you once were behind your eyes. Refocusing both your gazes on one another, you were met with an unfamiliarity you had no map, nor compass, to navigate. 

The hazelnut glow of his eyes still held you breathless within their depths, as much as your parted lips held his similar focus. He led you onto the dancefloor, the music swelling as he began to twirl you within his arms in front of his superiors, colleagues and underlings. You had no idea where to begin the unspoken conversation, feeling almost awkward within his arms the longer the silence was held between you both. 

Being the first to break the silence, you held your gaze firmly against his after huffing out a breath of frustration. Smiling, you darted your eyes between focusing on each of his, feeling incredibly exposed beneath his focus. 

“Are those new medals, sir?” you asked him, gesturing with your chin to his left breast pocket. 

“Sir?” he asked, his left hand gripping yours a little more firmly before relinquishing its intensity on your hand while holding firmly against your hand. “My darling, I don’t know what you-...” his words rushed out of his lips without restraint, a small cough from his throat refocusing his mental state with a deep inhale and exhale. 

“It has been a few years since last I held you in my arms,” he nodded, ushering you out to the side of him before twirling you within his arms. Your back fell flush with his torso, his every essence overwhelming you with emotions you thought to have buried a decade ago. “I have earnt a few titles over the years, yes. I appreciate you taking the time to notice.” 

“Of course I would notice, Bo,” you answered him with as much hase as he did earlier, taking a moment to collect yourself as he swayed you within his arms. You briefly shook your head, allowing him to wield you as an extension of himself with another twirl; this time ending with you facing him. “I always notice.” 

He hummed in response. There was no way he could ask all questions plaguing him for each swell and step of the melody from the orchestra. In lieu of interrogation, he opted to focus on you externally. He focussed on the ornate way your hair was drawn up, the way you held your face beneath its painted and accented appearance, the way your dress clung to your body and held an illusionary barrier between tastefully covering the necessities while leaving little to the imagination for what falls beneath. 

Both closing your eyes, you fell almost organically against one another. The automatrons beneath your inhibitions had your chests pressing against one another, your foreheads holding a similar fate with their proximity. As soon as his forehead was pressed against your own, you felt the person you were a decade ago resurface and lean towards him.

“You-...” his voice fell short, the stutter and waver in his voice had your heartstrings tugging like a wolf leashed beneath its owner's muzzleing. Opening your eyes, your brows arched up in the center as they fell on Bogard’s lengthy eyelashes. You witnessed his eyes darting beneath the small shield of flesh, dreamlike in its make while searching for a word or phrase. 

“We were perfect, weren’t we?” you smiled through your sigh, his eyes opening to meet yours at your words, “We were the right people for each other, but the wrong time. You were a Marine in the prime of your life, while I was an experience-.”

“-You were everything to me,” his voice cut your sentence like shattered glass through tender flesh. The raspy tone of his voice matched with the intensity of his eyes had you truly wanting to believe his words. Your breath hitched, unable to find stability within the large gathering of people on the dancefloor. 

Bogard continued to lead you through the dance, silent and brooding through each twirl, spin and sachet. His questions continued to swirl behind his lips, his brow furrowing and deepening the more the dance continued to leave his questions unanswered. 

“You never gave me a whisper of where you were, what you were doing, if you were okay or struggling,” he began, his heart pouring from his lips in a hushed whisper, “You were to be my wife. My love, I would’ve never accepted the promotion should I have known the agony I would endure at your silence. I would have become a sword for hire, a bounty hunter-.”

“-And I would have never asked you to make such a sacrifice, my heart,” you confessed, feeling the music begin to decrescendo its swell and teeter off, “I loved you, and you held my heart within your hands,” you drew yourself closer to him, feeling the final dip in his movement before he drew you into an embrace against his body, “You were my love to lose, and I will be forever grateful to be a chanel for your affection.”

Applause resounded within the hollows of the room and reverberated from the dome of the room. You broke from Bogard’s embrace and bowed to him, and he to you. 

“We would have been best side by side,” he confessed, his lip stuttering beneath his words, “I would have had you with me. My light,” he continued, stepping towards you and reaching to reclaim your fingertips to brush against him, “My heart. You were mine-.”

“-I was yours, Bogard,” you nodded with a false smile to mask the pain resurfacing, “And now our light is gone, and the break was not easy on either of us.” You stepped away from his outstretched hand, subtly shaking your head at him and attempting to stop the rapid rise of familiar sorrowful emotions within your heart. 

Taking your bottom lip beneath your top teeth, you held your widened eyes fixed on  his to warn him not to pursue you in your retreat before you left the dancefloor - a warning he refused to follow, even if it was commanded by the most superior officer in the chain of command. He had lost you once, and the memory of you was once again slipping through his fingers in each moment he watched you turn away from him.

“Let her be,” Garp’s voice broke him from his silent brooding, Bogard’s jaw clenching as his teeth ground behind his firmly clasped mouth, “Just let her be for a moment before you chase her.”

“Sir?” Bogard asked, his brow arching up at his superior officer in question. Garp’s stern expression began to falter beneath his hardened exterior. A grin rose to his lips, his eyes holding a foreign twinkle usually reserved for the pursuit of a particularly difficult adversary. 

“She is a rare soul to walk among us mere mortals,” he confessed, his eyes fixed on the retreat of your body as it disappeared through the threshold of the exit, “And she needs to be treated as such.” Turning to his underling, Garp clenched his firm hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze beneath his wide grip, “Allow her the luxury of navigating her own feelings first before you confess your own to her.” 

Bogard nodded, his broad hat covering his eyes to shield the emotions gathering behind them. He could see how you were struggling beneath your learned hardened exterior, truly unsure as to who the person you had become really was after all this time. All he knew within his soul was you were his, and he is still yours. 

Upon exiting the central floor your dance was held upon, you breathed in a heaping gulp of air unoccupied with the sting of unnatural perfumes, colognes and lotions within the dancefloor. You hang your head back, lulling it upon your shoulders within the solitude the gardens provided for you. 

“May I join you?” the familiar voice of your ex-fiance asked you, prompting you to both repress a groan of frustration within your lungs while your heart cried out in affirmation of his presence. Your internal conflict did not provide you with any resolve within your being, prompting you to provide a half-hearted shrug and a nod in response. 

Stepping closer beside you, he felt uneasy in your radiance. He took the opportunity in your own internal argument to look over the way your dress clung to your body. Raking his eyes slowly, he drew them up from your shoes, to your calves, to the split in material against your thigh which prompted his breath to hitch. He slowly withdrew his gaze from the small glimpse of flesh to your hips, chest, exposed neck and face - your brows continuing to be knit with a mixture of confusion, rage and sorrow. 

Before he could utter a single word or compliment your way, you spoke with your sharpened tone, causing him to stumble in his own mind.

“What do you want from me, Bogard?” you asked him, turning to face him with your heart weighing heavy within your chest, “I gave you everything. I gave you my youth, my body, my time, my heart, the prime of my life - leaving me in this shell of the person I once was, no longer an object of desire-.”

“-You never answered a single letter,” he interrupted your train of thought, prompting your frown to deepen in the centre of your forehead, “I sent you mountains of wasted paper for you to not return a single scrap of a word, nor semblance of a phrase. I would have appreciated a simple reprimand, a crude expression telling me to leave you alone-.”

“-Bogard, need I remind you that you left me?” your voice elevated to a small and firm argumentative tone, your jaw clenching with your every word, “You left me. You left me on that island with a simple relaying of the word from your commanding officer. One that he relinquished tonight, in fact: ‘Artists have no place in war. I shall leave you now so we are not burdened by the loss of one another’,” you mocked him, stepping closer to his body diminishing within the shadows. 

You allowed a dry and humorless laugh to escape your lips as you stepped closer. Allowing a moment of tension to continue to swell between you, you snarled at him with your eyes narrowed.

“Did you enjoy my painting of us?” you asked him, your brow and lip twitching in anticipation for his response. You expected anger and wrath at the depiction of his likeness within the canvas, his passionate ignition of flamed fury directed at you. In its stead, you received a small whisper in response. 

“I saw your heart reflected on its page,” he uttered, stepping closer to you with his head bowed, “A heart I have tried so desperately to reach in the decade that has held us apart.” Your heart fluttered with its rage within you, desiring to both shove him to the side and leave, but also draw him close for an embrace. 

“After all this time, you continue to chase me?” you spat at him, your heart now elevated to a heightened pace of anxiety and a rush of rage, “Tell me. What do I have that a flurry of others do not? What do I have that another cannot return to you? That another that would be more suited to provide for you, could not? Tell me, Bogard. What do I have to offer you-?” 

Bogard stepped in, claiming your waist within his left hand and holding you flush against his chest, while his right hand claimed your left cheek within his gentle caress. 

“You still hold my heart,” he whispered, his breath dancing on your lips on each syllable, “You rule my heart,” his words drew you in, your eyes swelling with the emotions of your youth. “I would build a citadel around your leadership, as queen of my heart,” he continued, his eyes dancing between your own. Your breath hitched as his eyes met with your parted lips, his own parting as his body swelled to join yours all the sooner. 

“You command my every being, in all these years apart,” he continued, reaching his right hand up and weaving his fingertips within your hair, anchoring the heel of his palm against your jaw and forcing your eyes to meet with his, “I never stopped loving you.” 

At that, his body surged forward; his lips claiming yours beneath his in a slow and firm movement. Your eyelashes were immediately flooded with silent tears spilling from the corners and littering your cheeks. Your soul yearned for him, surging your body to react to his touch with your own desperation. 

You had never stopped loving him either.

Hooking your arms around his neck, you pulled him into yourself with your heart pulsating with a dangerous rapidity for each second you continued this embrace. He ushered you over to the darkened corner of the wall, coaxing your body to respond further to his ministrations within the shadows to hide from prying eyes. His tongue darted out to dance with your own, a groan siphoned from his lips as you reciprocated his advances. 

You unhooked your arms from his neck, choosing to grip at his collar beneath your fingertips and drawing him impossibly closer to you. The ruckus from within the halls had you pay no mind, too swept within the arms of one another to have a thought or care cast at its elevation. The music swelled within the room, Bogard continuing to operate with his lips collecting each scrap and semblance of affection you allowed him to skillfully claim.

It was as if the pain of the decade ceased to exist at this moment. The two of you pictured the life you would have had within the arms of one another: marriage, stability, equality, relationships being at the forefront of this illusionary divergence. 

At the booming voice of Vice-Admiral Garp within the ballroom, addressing the soiree of Marines within, Bogard broke his lips away from yours while panting desperately against your lips as he listened to the orders of his superior officer. At that break in caress from the word of Garp, the illusion shattered and you were swept back to your position as the ex-fiance to the right hand of the Vice-Admiral. 

Bitterness swelled within your heart, you opting to push Bogard away from your arms as his attention was pulled elsewhere. His eyes quickly darted back to you upon this action, your own eyes refusing to meet his as you wallowed within your own disgruntled fury. 

Bogard felt a similar choice was to be made, akin to the decision he made a decade earlier. He could choose to rejoin the ceremony at this stage, leaving you out here to wait for him to return - should Garp let him; or to remain out here with you. You: the light of his life, the person he gave his heart to in youth - and its current owner as queen over his body. 

As he felt you pull away and begin to shepherd him to return to the halls, his eyes snapped as he made his decision. 

“I lost you once,” he uttered, his hands grasping your hips and holding you firmly in place, “And I refuse to lose you again.” At this small utterance, you would be a fool to admit anything other than the swell of your heart within your chest and your eyes softening at such a notion. Putting aside your own selfish desires to keep him further with you, you shook your head and reached up on your toes to place a chase kiss against his cheek.

“I will still be here if you choose to return to me,” you ushered him with a small smile, “And if you don’t, I will not hold it against you this time.” He leaned forward, the tip of his broad, gray cap circling the crown d your head as he placed his forehead against your own. 

“I will never break from you willingly again,” he confessed, his tone holding all of the emotion resurfacing from the decade taken from him, “Nor would I ever allow the light to leave us. You have my heart,” he nudged his nose against your own, “And I desire nothing in return-.”

“-Should you desire it or not,” you spoke over him, ensuring your voice was heard over his inner monologue, “My heart has been with you from the moment we first met,” his eyes met with yours as you continued, “And was only returned to me when you shattered it upon your departure.” 

He claimed your lips beneath his, feeling the roll of your raw emotion within your lips the longer he held you against him. Breaking away, he gazed intently into your eyes and uttered his final confirmation.

“No matter how long it takes: I swear to remake your heart and treat it kindly should you offer it once more.” 

“My heart is yours, Bogard,” you sighed in response, the swell reigniting within your chest as you allowed him to cradle you against himself. Ignoring the calls and words of Vice-Admiral Garp within the hall, addressing the marines and tailoring their awards to them without his right hand beside him, Bogard was intent on showcasing how deeply he loved you regardless of the time that departed.

Garp continued his relay, his eyes darting to meet with the image of an entanglement with his right-hand man and your body pressing romantically against one another with a twinkle in his eye. He remained relishing in the fact he was able to right the mistakes of his past and reset it to shepherd it into a promising and fruitful future; Bogard finally able to meet with his bonnie lass once again and treat you with the utmost respect you deserved.

He refused to come between you again, swearing at that point to never offer an ultimatum to an underling in return for their loyalty.  

[bluechestercity]

Dele Alli, an victim of sexual molestation didn't get as much platform by fellow football players, didn't get so much LOUD support by other football players, but a person who gets accused of rape and proven not guilty (doesn't mean innocent) get all the support, fucking dedicated tweets, etc etc.

This case shows other players that "oh he get out of this free, why would I be jailed". They don't care about their victims, with so much money and powers they're almost untouchable.

Hakimi case shows that, that they made his EX WIFE a villain making up a story that she divorces him for money. Not because he got accused for rape.

Neymar who cheats notoriously on his pregnant fiance/girlfriend became a joke. Same with Grealish.

Benzema, Ronaldo, Greenwood situations and many many more that we won't hear because how much power these men have.

I'm sorry for my grammar etc. I'm so mad that it makes hard for me to translate my thoughts to English.

[impuritics]

— whoa! DANUMI ‘NAMI’ ABUAN just stole my cab! not cool, but maybe they needed it more. they have lived in the city for 9 YEARS, working as a BALLET DANCER. that can’t be easy, especially at only 27 YEARS OLD. some people say they can be a little bit HEDONISTIC and ALOOF , but I know them to be RESOLUTE and CULTURED. whatever. I guess I’ll catch the next cab. hope they like the ride back to MANHATTAN!

basics

birthname:  danumi abuan  /  nicknames:  nami  /  birthplace:  marseille, france  /  current  location:  manhattan, new york  /  age:  twenty - seven (  august 13 )  /  gender:  cis woman ( she / her )  /  orientation:  bisexual  /  relationship  status:  single  /  occupation:  principal dancer at the new york city ballet  /  spoken  languages:  native french & filipino, english, conversational spanish  /  + full stats, connections, pinterest board, playlist.

tidbits

(a more detailed bio coming soon)

was born in marseille into a very wealthy family, with successful parents and extended family.

family moved to paris shortly after to further her parents' careers. there she started taking ballet classes at the opera de paris ballet school as soon as she turned eight.

although she was taught etiquette and to behave correctly from a young age she had a relatively normal childhood overall.

nami excelled at school and was just as good at horseback ridding but her big passion has always been dancing so any other interests took a backseat as her focus were her ballet classes.

her hyperfixation on her academics, extracurriculars and hobbies stemmed from the turbulent situation at home. her mother was never really loving or dedicated and it all came to an abrupt stop when nami was fourteen and she finally up and left her family to live with her longtime affair partner.

the change didn't really affect her daily life given the broken relationship she already had with her mother but it was the opposite for her father - he fought until the end to keep their family together and was hurt beyond relief by the betrayal.

unable to cope, the only way he found to cope was on the inside of a bottle which quickstarted some of the most turbulent years in nami's life.

at first her father was a functional alcohol but he sadly only deteriorated with time, so nami had to move with his sister and her family to have some semblance of a normal life again while he got some much needed help.

after a couple of years her aunt's husband received a job offer at the states and nami joined them only after having secured a spot at the school of american ballet.

it didn't take long for her to join the new york city ballet and from then on climb the ranks until present day, where she's one of the principal dancers in the company, having starred a multitude of shows through the years.

it was during those years she met her ex-fiance, it was without a doubt her most serious relationship as she was about to get married to him, but her own commitment issues resurfaces at the worst of times and couldn't meet him at the altar.

to this day she feels awful about it but has devoted herself to her work, different hobbies and social life although she still avoids any serious romantic bonds.

[fayeandknight]

Personal post in which I am processing old trauma.

It's weird how you can clearly recall an experience but have no emotional response/true comprehension of it until many years later.

My relationship with my ex fiance happened during my first three years of college, if you don't count the stalking and harassment that went on for several years after. I'm in my 30s now, that was a long time ago.

It took me a few years after breaking up for the last time to realize that the relationship wasn't just "really shitty" but had in fact been extremely abusive. To this day when I think of him I think of screaming and crying, breaking glass, blood, absolute terror, and the inability to breathe.

Over the years I've been processing the truth of things he'd normalized/minimized/gaslit me on and trying to give myself grace for the long term effects it's had on me. And for a while I thought I'd acknowledged all of it. But recently (last year or two) it's hit me like a sack of bricks that he tried to murder me. I don't mean going too far in a fit of anger, I mean he planned out and followed through on a deliberate plan to kill me that I survived by sheer luck.

That day has always been a cold, stop motion memory since it happened. I can recall it in a series of snapshots, each clean and neat and utterly detached from each other.

He tells me we'll have the house to ourselves.

He's drawn me a bath in the big Jacuzzi tub with rose petals in the water.

I undress and get in.

He is sitting on the side of the bathtub.

He is cupping my face for a kiss and whispers something about Ophelia.

My head is underwater.

I am flailing and grabbing at his hands, the side of the bathtub. Water is going everywhere but I can't get out from underneath his hands.

I can't breathe. My lungs are burning. I am beyond terrified. This is the inevitable end. This is how I die.

His hands are off me and I am able to get my head above water.

He is taking keys off the counter and handing them through the cracked open door.

I am soaking wet and holding my clothes against me in a bundle that mostly covers me.

I shove past the person on the other side of the door and run barefoot back to my dorm.

He gaslit me hard about this that it never happened. I didn't even get a chance to bring it up. He just showed up the next day to take me on a date (which he very rarely did) and complained about how outside of sex we never had one on one time because there were always people in the house. I was still in shock I think and don't really remember what happened in between my running out of his house and him showing up at my dorm apartment. I do remember being in the living room of his house after the date and having a very public fight that he pulled out of nowhere.

For a long time that memory has been something I shied away from even thinking about. It was a cold spot in my brain that gave me mental frost bite.

And then when I did acknowledge it, it was framed as 'I almost died' in my mind. But the more I think about it, the more clear that this was a planned murder becomes.

We were in college and he lived in a busy frat house/known party house with four other guys. He either dedicated significant time to tracking people's coming and going to find a long enough window of time to drown me and dispose of my body. Not a small feat considering the near constant foot traffic in the house. Or he engineered having that house be empty.

The tub, which wasn't normally used due to being disgustingly dirty, had been spotlessly cleaned.

He never got undressed or into the tub with me. He was wearing a short sleeved shirt with shorts and angled his legs away from the tub.

He referenced Ophelia, who dies via drowning. I was a theatre major at the time.

He very much intended to murder me by downing me in that bathtub.

The only reason I survived is because someone forgot their keys on the bathroom counter and had to come back for them. That's it.

It's so wild to me how long it's taken my brain to feel, I don't know safe??? enough, to really put the severity and full implications together. I didn't repress the memory, just avoided it. And I'm not even shocked that he tried to kill me, more that he tried to murder me - though I'm not sure how much sense that distinction would make to anyone else.

Seeing romantic gestures between couples makes me feel cold and frightened and grief stricken. And for a long time I attributed that to my most significant/serious relationship being an epic shit show and a half. But I'm starting to realize that it's also because one of the few romantic gestures I've received was actually part of the plan to murder me. So I'm trying to be gentle with myself when I experience those feelings.

I'm not some bitter shrew who hates seeing happy couples. I am experiencing the fallout feelings of an extremely traumatic and very nearly fatal event.

Anyway I'm not really expecting for anyone to have read this whole mess. But if you did, here's a picture of Forte snuggling me from this morning as thanks for sitting with me for a bit.

[studiofelix]

Little Guys that Look Like Me: Loving Myself by Proxy

There are few scenarios where a twenty-something with low self esteem would create something physical in their own image. At 20, I would have sooner eaten bird seed than intentionally made something to look like me. At 21, I found myself doing so, lovingly and painstakingly. It changed me.

It was a first-time-meeting-you-in-real-life present. I crocheted a small doll, no larger than four of five inches in height. I switched colors as I crocheted him, navy for the hair, peach for the skin, pink for the shirt, teal for the pants. I sewed a few flat pieces to his head to look like the fringe I had at the time and lovingly stitched “I <3 U” onto his chest.

It felt strange, blasphemous almost. In the same way young Catholics are told not to take the Lord’s name in vain, I hadn’t dared to create an honest and sincere depiction of myself since the 9th grade. And even then, the portraits that I had drawn at that point had a critical and angsty air to them, but in all fairness, can you really expect anything different from a fourteen year old?

My limited and self-deprecating journey in self portraiture had met its match: creating a simple, happy mini-me for someone I loved, a lesson in carefully crafted self image.

Anthropomorphism: assigning human emotions and traits to inanimate objects. This was a tendency I had growing up, have now, and will have for the rest of my life. It is carefully woven into my experience of growing up as a late-diagnosed autistic, my experience of navigating the world in a limbo state of partial understanding and uncertainty. The dolls, stuffed animals, virtual pets; they are often cast aside as unimportant and unworthy once a child has outgrown them. This makes perfect sense to the average adult. They are not human, not even animals. Their insides are plastic and polyfill and tiny, unsophisticated PCB; they do not bleed and die as we do.

But imagine being human and feeling those things so deeply and fundamentally without knowing why. Your peers are better than you; they make friends easily; they do not struggle to find understanding in each other. You, on the other hand, have had trouble—have been the trouble—in some capacity in nearly every interpersonal relationship you’ve had. This story is not new to you, reader—whether you’re the protagonist, villain, love interest, bystander—you just didn't know that you've been playing a part. I see these objects as extensions of my experience; I can’t stifle the thought of their plight.

I continued crocheting my mini-me, Pocket BF, as I called him. Suddenly he had a face, and this was what gave him feelings. I looked at him. I pet the side of his face as I sewed his hair into his scalp. “Almost done,” I said to comfort him. A mirror image of myself, but one that I now held inexplicable affection for instead of unremarkable, everyday disdain. I didn’t want him to hurt. I wanted him to be happy. He didn’t deserve to feel sad.

Despite this seed of self-love (if you can call it that), there was a disconnect. This love I had for this little guy that looked like me, confusing and paradigm-shifting as it was, did not transfer to my feelings toward myself yet. And as I wrapped Pocket BF in tissue paper, placed him in a box, told him he’d be out soon, and wrapped my gift to my soon(ish)-to-be ex-fiance, the spark of this near revelation would be buried for a while.

Obviously it didn’t work out. When you’ve been engaged for two years with no plans to get married or move in together or even to the same state, the writing is on the wall in a dull and uninspiring script, and it’s been there so long that the paint is starting to chip. Although I must confess, I do partially blame myself; there is a very specific intersection of youth, stupidity, charmingly trite dedication, and earth-shattering codependency that will possess you to propose to your long distance boyfriend of one year. He will dump you over text, the day before valentines day, almost exactly two years later, so don't make my mistake. You've been warned.

The absolute beacon of wisdom and mental fortitude I was (or wasn’t) at 21, aside, the unceremonious and, dare I say, absolutely out-of-pocket-cruel discarding of our relationship that he doled out a few years later devastated me. He’s not a bad person; I hope he finds happiness (and therapy. My God, I hope he gets therapy); I wish him well; etcetera. I coped the best I could, ruminated on everything I could have possibly said or done wrong, cried and cried and cried, standard breakup stuff.

One of the things that helped to carry me, though, was my special interest in a certain video game pairing. They outlived our entire relationship; they were there with me when it began, and they were still there as the rubbled ruin of it began to grow flowers through the cracked stone. I tend to pick a character that I see myself in and project onto them. My art of this character began as pretty on-model; he was very recognizable as his canon self with the only main differences being a matter of style, a few headcanons here and there.

This was at a time in my life where I had started to gain weight (think the freshman fifteen if it was a year later and also fifty pounds instead). Looking back on it now, this was only the natural course my body chose to take. The thing that no one tells you about testosterone therapy is that it quite literally turns you into a carbon copy of your father. My young, twink body softened into a round ball of a belly. My hairline began to recede. What I believed was the result of these objectively neutral changes was actually the result of deeply rooted, internalized fatphobia and a general fear of aging.

I so badly wished to be skinny again. I wished to look like my favorite character again. I wanted it so viscerally that I shuffled through diet attempts and would-be exercise programs in a desperate Hail Mary for a fleeting look akin to a starving Victorian boy.

In one of my nearly daily bouts of self-pity, I said out loud that I wished I could draw Felix, this character I loved and saw as myself, as fat. I had started drawing his partner (well, the character who should have been his partner) as fat, and I was able to get away with it without much pushback from the fandom. And then I had the cartoonishly obvious realization that actually, I could draw whatever the hell I want literally for the rest of my life.

This, honest to God, changed my life. No longer was I drawing this character as the unattainably skinny little twink I wished to be. I drew him to look like me. I gave him rolls and a stomach that protruded out past his waistline. Later on, I’d start drawing him with freckles and a receding hairline as well, hair on his shoulders, round cheeks.

I drew him loved. I drew him happy. I drew him confident in his body and in the space he took up. Broadly speaking, it wasn’t received well. I lost most of my engagement and a lot of my Twitter audience. A hoard of people whose fatphobia was conditional but still there; you could make some characters fat without a problem, but touch the designated fandom twink, and you might as well have deleted your account.

What came from this petty loss, though, were a select few who loved my Felix. A handful of people who felt seen by my art, seen by the care with which I drew these characters, with the realism of fat bodies drawn lovingly—not realism in the sense of style but realism in the sense of believability. I drew (and still draw) them so they feel real. I draw them in a way that I hope makes people like me feel at home.

This healed my self-image by leaps and bounds. Despite the discretely sour reaction I got from most of Twitter, I did find brief and minor Tiktok fame from making tutorials about how to draw fat people. When I draw Felix and Sylvain, I treat them, and ultimately myself, with the love and care deserved. He is another little guy that looks like me. And I loved him dearly. I still do.

My self esteem still needed work, though.

Six months ago, I picked Tomodachi Life for the 3DS back up. I got the game when I was a teenager and played it religiously for a few weeks before losing interest and cycling on to my next video game fixation. I would pick it back up a few more times sporadically over the years—this is the nature of how I play video games. In Tomodachi Life, you manage an island of Miis (Nintendo’s primitive customizable characters that date back to the Wii). You feed them, interact with them, buy them clothes and apartments, and watch their relationships form and change and break. The game starts with the player creating a character that looks like themself—or, how the game puts it, their look-alike.

My look-alike from this play through naturally looked drastically different from my previous play throughs. I made him look like a cute, low-poly version of myself. I made his voice sound as similar to mine as it could within the bounds of 2013 video game technology. I gave him a pink, sparkly apartment theme, dresses, shirts, accessories, his favorite foods, etcetera. I pet him on the head and listened to what he had to say. Just like Pocket BF, just like Felix, I felt a massive amount of love and affection towards him, different than before but still so much the same. This reflection of me could talk; he could walk around his little room. He got married to Sylvain. He had kids with him. He could tell me he was glad we met.

And he could tell me he missed me. By chance, I neglected to check on him for a few days while solving problems for the other Miis. When I tapped on his room, he came towards the screen and said something like, “My look-alike! I haven’t seen you all week! How have you been?”

A feeling of guilt washed over me. How could I have abandoned this little guy? This little guy that looked like me? Had I hurt his feelings? Had I made him sad? He seemed alright. He walked around his room while swinging his arms back and forth. And I soon realized, how could I feel such empathy and kindness towards him, but not feel any of that toward myself? Here it was, my empathy for inanimate objects, friendly pixels, and downright apparitions, in a violent coup against my own self hatred. I am not pixels on a screen or a handmade plush or my idea for what a video game character should have been. I am a living, breathing creature who bleeds when I’m cut. I am a person who has feelings, a person who does not deserve the pain I’ve caused myself by my own hand. I deserve the love and care that I show these self portraits, these vignettes of my simplest self. The rabid beast of my most complex self deserves it as well.

How many times have I looked at myself in the mirror and picked at my skin, picked at my image, picked at my actions, my voice, who I am, the very fabric of my fragile little existence? Too many, and yeah, I'll probably do it again. But maybe instead someday I'll greet myself with a smile, with a "My look-alike! I haven't seen you all day!" With a gentle touch, one reserved for a handmade gift. And maybe this one won't get put in a closet or given to Goodwill, or whatever ex-fiances do with iconography of their past. Little guys that look like me are my past. They are my present. And, although the battle is only halfway fought, they taught me how to love myself by proxy.

[huaandbloom]

I see you also ship Barbara x Bennett what else do you ship

OHOHOHOHOHO I'M SO GLAD YOU ASKED–

I'm just gonna assume you're asking only about Genshin ships. I'm a multi-shipper so there will be repeats.

Warning: very VERY long read. I got a bit more extensive than I thought I would.

Ships that have a chokehold on me:

Keqing x Heizou: would hate each other at first, but with enough time and maybe one night of forced deep conversation realize that they have a lot in common? Both are very dedicated to their work, almost to a fault, but have very different working styles

Barbara x Bennett : I'm a sucker for character A chastising character B for getting hurt while they patch them up

Amber x Razor: hc Amber to be 18-20 and Razor to be 17-18 in case anyone's alarmed. It's the bunny x wolf and "outgoing girl helps awkward and closed off boy get out of his comfort zone" for me

Jean x Diluc: fully convinced they're exes and Diluc still has feelings for Jean at least. You can't tell me that one of the reasons he went to the summer islands wasn't to see Jean in her summer fit

Kazuha x Xiangling: mostly QPR, Xiangling canonically sails with the Crux Fleet sometimes so I'm pretty sure they have an established friendship of sorts already

Ayaka x Thoma: am a sucker for royalty x servant type dynamics, they'd be really sweet together, and I totally bought the pre-Inazuma rumors that they were gonna be fiances...

Xiangling x Xiao: all it took was one(1) fic which is now lost forever :( but either way I'm sold now

Mona x Scaramouche/Wanderer: look aesthetically pleasing together, plus I like the bickering between the two of them in the fics I read

Gorou x Kokomi: my loves my babies my everything the apple of my eye the peanut to my butter the fried to my rice to yee to my haw the dog leans over to kiss the fishy in the pond memes the- (has been shipping them since 2.0 livestream and refuses to let go)

Ships I can enjoy:

Bennett x Fischl: mainly for the ship name puns, but also I like their friendship a lot it's very cute

Ayaka x Kazuha: angst edition in which they try to maintain a long distance but after a while Ayaka can't take it anymore and breaks it off. Other than that I think they look really pretty together and they think really highly of each other

Beidou x Ningguang: Lantern Rite 2021 sold me on this ship. Like sure you guys, you just play chess and nothing more. Sure sure sure-

Xinyan x Yun Jin: Lantern Rite 2021 also sold me on it

Katheryne x Wanderer: @probably-impossible has me hook line and sinker it's such a silly ship but also makes so much sense for some reason?? Content for it has died down but I look back on that time fondly

Dehya x Dunyuzard: look me dead in the eye and tell me they aren't dating. You can't

Cyno x Nilou: the fanarts get me every time in a way I can't explain I feel so much feeling whenever I see them that it borders on having a chokehold on me. It's only here because I only feel the feelings when I remember they exist which isn't very often

Albedo x Sucrose: Windblume had me feeling a certain way let's just put it that way

Amber x Eula: similar-ish dynamic to Amber x Razor and admittedly they have more canon content than the aforementioned ship ever will (cri)

Itto x Sara: childhood friends to petty bickering enemies to lovers. Need I say more.

Chongyun x Xiangling: used to ship them in early game because of that one character story where Chongyun accidentally eats a chilli at Wanmin and then apologises to her profusely

Hu Tao x Xiao: grumpy x sunshine-ish that's it that's the tweet

Kaeya x Rosaria: bi4bi drinking buddies (romantic)

Kaeya x Kokomi: aethetically pleasing and amazing fanarts I must say

Cyno x Layla: an online friend sold me on this and I think it's just neat

Wanderer x Traveler: the love-hate potential is there and I can appreciate it. It's an acquired taste personally, but now I kinda dig it.

Bennett x Chongyun: both constantly get less-than-desired results in their respective lines of work

Ships I can see happening I guess:

Cyno x Tighnari: I like imagining them as a divorced couple co-parenting Collei lmao

Alhaitham x Kaveh: it's fine I guess?? I just see so much fan art that frankly it's become oversaturated for me

Dainsleif x Kaeya: I don't care much for Dain but I like royalty x knight so there you go

Venti x Xiao: this would go under "ships I can enjoy" but now I have beef with it. No it doesn't have anything to do with the fandom or the shippers /gen but I'd rather not get into it

Hu Tao x Yanfei: y'all YanTao nation people make good fanart ngl

Ei x Miko: they're wives. Not a big fan of them, but they're wives

Childe x Traveler: used to ship it but not so much anymore for some reason

Xiao x Traveler: except it's one-sided 'cause I'm a bit evil like that

[gerykei13]

Taylor Swift albums but I've been taking a lot of road trips recently and my imagination likes to make storylines out of albums so I thought I'd explain some of them:

folklore: two stranded friends oddly reconnect again when a guy that didn't know what he wanted breaks up with one over the summer, getting them into a 'high school love triangle'. Some get married, some others don't, some get divorced, some dedicate their lives to help, and some die. Fate brings them all to separate ways, eventually getting forgiveness, love, and closure, and eventually reunites the two of them in the same saltbox house. 50s-60s setting, some sapphic undertones, and death.

evermore: a love triangle between two stranded high school friends, one moved on, one stood still, and the former's fiance, who's well aware their relationship is going nowhere. No one gets married, she would've made a lovely bride thought, and there's an unsolved murder case in between the drama. Eventually, they all learn to let go, some run away, like you'd run from the law, and others just move on with their lives. 70s-80s small town "where the crawdads sing-style" setting, sapphic undertones are actually very much evident lol, and death obviously.

speak now: once upon a time in the 1500s off in a foreign land, a young prince made friends with a forest witch, eventually falling in love. There's dragons, magic, love, and a tragic ending full of hope ahead. "A Canterlot Wedding" vibes, medieval-ish setting, sapphic side story of course there is one I AM going to make everything gay because it's my headcanon/fanfiction and I can do whatever I want, someone dies holding their head like a hero on a history book page

red: a recent middle-class divorcee unknowingly makes friends with with her ex-husband's mistress. A tale of youth, growing up, letting go, and forgiving. They get separated at the end because not every story has a happy ending, you should know that by now. Themes of grief and anxiety come into the story. Late 2000s setting I guess I never really thought about the timeline on this one, a BIG sapphic storyline, I already said grief so I also want to mention there's a lot of bright lights scenery and an ambiguous long-distance ending

[neteluvr-library]

THIS FUCKING CHAPTER!!!!!!!!! I think this was the chapter that made me rediscover Illicit Affairs because it's the first chapter I commented on 🤣 AND THANK THE LORD I DID bc it led me to u 🥰 LSO? You posted Chapter 1 on Feb 5th...and posted this on Feb 15th. YOU WERE LITERALLY CRAZY FOR THAT!!!! You were constantly updating like every two days 😭 IK you said you barely slept throughout this entire time, but the dedication is unreal. i followed you at some point and i was like holy fuck how does this girl write so fast

I remember feeling so shocked at the end because I wasn't expecting the ending, but also I fucking loved it because the introduction of Neteyam's betrothed made it even angstier. What can I say? I'm a sucker for the man and girl in love but man has a fiance out of duty trope sekfnjkrhgnfdkfnkd it justs so angsty and you never know how its going to play out. absolute genius move and it kept me on my toes until the next chapter.

“I am serious, Angel. You’ve been in my life for as long as I can remember. You have always been the only one to see me for more than just a freak, or a fuck-up, or a disappointment. You see me.”

My poor baby Lo'ak ): I love him so much and I'm so happy he gets his ending happy in The Archer and James' better not play any fucking games next movie. I ALREADY LOST NETEYAM I WILL NOT TAKE ANY ABUSE OR NEGETIVTY TOWARDS LOAK

“Oh… I see.” He was now turning his back to you, trying to leave without looking you in the eye. You were not going to let that happen.

He's definitely caught up on the fact that Atan has this new body and now is his chance to be with the only someone who would mate with him but hang in there Lo ): you will find your person soon'

We were in the backseat, drunk on something stronger than the drinks in the bar…

I rent a place on Cornelia Street, I say casually in the car…”

THIS IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE SCENES IN ILLICIT AFFAIRS LIKE ACTUALLY!!!

“I never did walk Cornelia Street again after that day, you know? I kept my promise.” 

THIS QUOTE!!! one of your quotes that has stuck with me since i first saw it! its so vulnerable, but so simple. atan isn't bearing her chest with a long-worded speech, but she is bearing her chest with the comparison of cornelia street, and what it means, to their clearing. cornelia street is one of taylors saddest songs to me but also one of her strongest displays of love.

I was afraid I was going to miss you and no one would be able to let you through the door. It never occurred to me you wouldn’t show - not until the dawn of the next day. That’s when it hit.”

OOOF THATS GOT A KICK!!!! I think almost every girl can relate to this anxiety of waiting for the person they want/love show up for them. it literally makes us go insane! and the hurt and disappointment that comes after they fail to show up ): it's almost like...did that really happen? you question whether they actually did that to you and what it means as a whole. ESPECIALLY ON ATAN'S BIRTHDAY ): yeah i spent my 21st birthday on bad terms with my ex boyfriend and he didn't even wish my a happy birthday and i waited all morning and afternoon for him so say something so this hit a little close to home (my all too well moment LOL?)

“I never had any expectations. I was never delusional enough to think that you would ever choose me. But I did have dreams. And in the dreams, you told me you loved me too, and that whatever it was, we would always be able to work through it together.

NO BECAUSE THIS ENTIRE PARAGRAPH??? I LOVE IT SO MUCH. i don't even know what to say except i love it?? atan's hurt really show through this paragraph ): suffice to say this paragraph is one of my favorites that you've written (yes i have favorites and could easily pinpoint them)

“You heard me. I saw you. I saw you in the forest, his hands all over you, I saw you running your hand up and down his arm. I’ve known he has been sneaking in your tent for weeks. What are you doing with my baby brother in your tent late at night, Y/N?”

Neteyam really is stupid LMFAOOO he didnt even use Atan so thats how you know he's mad

FIVE STAGES OF GRIEF STAGE II: ANGER

*SVU THEME SONG*

I don’t owe you anything. You fucking left, Neteyam! We’re nothing to each other.

GET HIS ASS ATAN!!!!

You felt a sick satisfaction at his demeanour. You made him like this, this angry, nose flared and panted breaths, you had this power over him. Just the thought of you with another man drove him to this point, and you loved it. He deserved it, deserves much worse. 

I WOULD BE EATING THIS SHIT UP !!! well i am eating it up but if this was irl.....i would be jumping over the moon with glee

It wasn’t possible for you to finish the sentence, as his lips roughly slammed against yours, and you immediately, as if your body needed no input from your mind, raised your hands to the circle around his neck, pushing him closer to you. 

YOU WERE SUCH A TEASE FOR THIS!!!!

The dizziness you felt was more than just a weak headache you could ride out, but a sign your human body was fighting to maintain the neurolink inside the pod. You didn’t have much time. 

I'm literally giggling bc i love what's about to come..

The holy grail, injectable morphine. You hastily grabbed a syringe and a needle, measured out the amount needed, shook the syringe to remove any air bubbles, and directed it to your arm, where you injected it in your vein.

NO BC I WAS SHOCKED LIKE MORPHINE???? atan is at a point of desperation that is hard to come back from ): we're about to get dark atan omggggg

“You will tell her by the end of the week, or I will.” 

clueless little me still thinking this is about neteyam confessing...i felt validated bc they didn't have a chance to talk so it was like yeah ofc he hasn't confessed they haven't talk but he will soon

There was a lot of pain in your life, but this family would always be your good karma, it seemed. 

I love that Atan's bond extends and exists outside of Neteyam!! Like yeah the world doesn't revolve around men..

You knew you were bonded for life, shared a kinship and bond no one could break until one of you died, maybe even after. The feeling of belonging, as you watched 5 other ikran fly alongside yours and help you through your first of many adventures in the sky. You felt grateful and happy to have made it so far before the inevitable end.

ATAN DESERVES ALL THE HAPPINESS IN THE WORLD 😭

“You drive me crazy when you roll your eyes at me, you know? I would kill to be the reason your eyes roll in the back of your head at night.”

hjfnkjjfdbvkjnvjfk HE WAS ACTUALLY BOLD FOR SAYING THAT AND IM JUST REALIZING HIS COMMENT NOW

Oh, it seems much better now than what was described. I guess it’s true what they say, you really are that skilled.” She turned her attention to you and smiled. 

“Thank you. I don’t think we’ve properly met.”

“You’re right, my bad! I’m Tiongli. Neteyam’s mate.” 

*EVIL LAUGHTER* you really are something andra because THIS CAUGHT ME SOOO OFF GUARD I SWEAR!!! i just love this trope so much and i cant believe you included it. I FULLY THOUGHT THIS WOULD BE A SIMPLE HAPPY ENDING this is the first time where i was like oh the author is sadistic (hence why i commented). i wAS APPALLED I WAS SHOCKED I WAS MOVED i mean this is the chapter and reveal that cemented me as an illicit affairs stan. i was like yup okay now i have to see how this plays out and i have to follow the author because i need to finish this. IT JUST AMAZING!!!!!

OAKY i finished this at 1:30 AM oops. I AM SO EXCITED TO ANNOTATE THE REMAINING THREE CHAPTERS!!!! LIKE JUMPING OVER THE MOON BC THEY ARE MY FAVORITE!!!! im definitely going to dedicate some time next weekend so i can sit down and FULLY get into the last three chapters bc they will have a lot of annotations and it will get serious. i'll start earlier next time though hehehe anyway cant wait to hear back from you...also sorry babe i know i have annotated five chapters within week and you are busy so pls take your time responding if you need to <3 i thought i would have more notes on this chapter but i think i was just so excited for the end i didn't leave any notes on any of the rites of passage scenes but know i did love those too. OKAY GOODNIGHT!!!

Illicit Affairs | Chapter VII: Hoax

Pairing: Neteyam x Human/Avatar!Reader

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X

Synopsis: Tensions erupt when Neteyam confronts you about something he saw. His secret comes out at the worst time, leaving you both in pieces. 

Warnings: (a little) smut (18+, Minors DNI), angst, mentions of blood mentions of death, injury, pills, pill addiction, opioid addiction, disease, cursing, some fluff + all the feels.

Word Count: 9,5k words (holy mother)

A/N: This is it, guys! Where tensions explode and secrets come come out, hearts are bound to be broken. I hope you enjoy this chapter, I put everything into it. I cried whilst writing it, I laughed whilst writing it, pretty sure I experienced the full spectrum of human emotions whilst doing this. Also, I have ignored my actual work to finish it, so if I fail my annual progression review, at least it would have been worth it. Let me know what you think, and as always, thank you for everyone who is reading is and asked to be tagged &lt;;3

"My only one, my kingdom come undone My broken drum, you have beaten my heart Don't want no other shade of blue, but you No other sadness in the world would do"

“There are perks with being an Omatikaya, you know? You can make your bow out of the wood of the Home Tree… and you can choose a mate.” 

Fuck. 

“Lo’ak… be serious.”

“I am serious, Angel. You’ve been in my life for as long as I can remember. You have always been the only one to see me for more than just a freak, or a fuck-up, or a disappointment. You see me.”

The younger Sully boy gently cupped you face in his hand; he was caressing your cheek with his thumb. Using a little force, he willed your face upwards so you could look up at his face; you were surprised to see the intensity in his eyes. 

You placed your hand on his arm, and you hoped by slowly massaging it, it would relax him enough to soften your following words. 

“Lo’ak… I do see you. You are an incredible person. You have been there for me my whole life, and I will be forever grateful to you. You have been the only one who constantly chose the dark stuffy lab to the beauty of this world because the labs had me in it, you were closest to my mum and she loved you like you were her own. I think you are the most amazing guy there is and I think your mate will be the luckiest girl there is. But that’s not me, Lo’ak. You know that can’t be me.”

His hand dropped from your face and both of his hands took yours in them, squeezing them ardently. 

“But it is you. It has to be you.” 

“Kehe (no). Lo’ak, you are my best friend. I am your best friend. I love you so much, and I know you love me too, but the love we have for each other is not the kind of love one needs to be mated for life.” 

You spoke softly, looking at him pleadingly, hoping that he would understand your words in the way that you intend them. You can see his gaze drop and form deflate, being replaced by a meek one, a shadow of his former self. 

“Oh… I see.” He was now turning his back to you, trying to leave without looking you in the eye. You were not going to let that happen.

“I’m not letting you leave.” You say, keeping his hands tightened in yours. “We will talk about this, and you will recognise I am right.” 

Neteyam was having trouble seeing as he was manoeuvring his way through the forest. He felt sick to his stomach and every heartbeat sent waves of hurt through his entire body, like shards of glass gutting him from inside out. How could his own brother do this? How could you do this? He has spent more than two months with you, every day, sending touches and glances your way that were begging to be seen, begging to be acknowledged. He secretly prayed that you would call him out on it, give him a reason to finally tell you that he’s loved you since he was 10 and yearned for your touch since the second his eyes fell on you again after a whole year apart. He wanted you to finally give him a reason to tell everyone to fuck off and let him finally live his life by his own rules, with you by his side. 

Neteyam was shaking with tempestuous fury at the unfairness of it all. Lo’ak will always get everything just handed to him on a silver platter, won’t he? Freedom, to make his own choices, to live his life as he wished, carelessly and devoid of any forethought or responsibility. And now he got you, the woman of his dreams - and nightmares - and the future he used to fantasise would one day be his. 

His legs were moving without any conscious input from his mind, and before long, he found himself on the way to the clearing you and him used to go to all the time. Your place, just for his and your eyes to see, just for his and your hearts to experience. As he was nearing, he heard soft sounds emerging from the spot, and he slowly, carefully approached with a bow at the ready and all his senses heightened. 

“We were in the backseat, drunk on something stronger than the drinks in the bar…

I rent a place on Cornelia Street, I say casually in the car…”

Soft strumming and the most beautiful voice he has ever heard, a voice that he would recognise anywhere, for the rest of time, made him drop the bow he was gripping tightly. That song, Neteyam thought with a wince, and let himself remember.

“This piece of heaven is our Cornelia Street.” 

“What’s Cornelia Street?”

“Well, it’s a place back on Earth where one of her houses used to be, but in this case, it’s a metaphor. Cornelia Street is to them what this clearing is to us.” 

A month before your 17th birthday is the last day Neteyam saw you. He was coming to say goodbye. You didn’t know that, and, in your enthusiasm at seeing him after such a long time because of his training, or so he told you, you suggested coming here. Neteyam remembers everything about that day. He didn’t sleep that night, cried himself to sleep quietly in his family’s tent thinking of the possibility of not seeing you again, for a long time, perhaps forever. He had decided that his mum was right. Being around you was hurting you both, and maybe by leaving, both of you could heal and move on. He wouldn’t have to live with causing you more pain than you already had to deal with, and you wouldn’t have to go outside, something that you were only doing for him, it seemed. It was a win-win, he thought, and yet his heart was torn apart, coming apart at the seams of wounds that barely healed. 

You were sitting on the ground, resting your back on a rock by the river bank, with the same guitar in your hands you have had since you were young. Neteyam thought he probably heard thousands of songs being played on that guitar, countless hours laying just like he was now, hearing you sing. He did not like humans, could not understand them, their world, their traditions, their beliefs, but watching you strum that guitar and singing about your love, a love neither of you could ever say out loud except in this way, he realised humans did some things right. Humanity did you right. 

“We were a fresh page on the desk, filling in the blanks as we go

As if the street lights pointed in an arrowhead, leading us home”

Neteyam watched you intently, and was trying to assimilate the lyrics as best he could, knowing this was always your preferred method of communication, knowing that through these songs you are confessing your true, buried desires. You looked at him as you sang, giving him a big smile.

“And I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends

I'd never walk Cornelia Street again

That's the kind of heartbreak time could never mend

I'd never walk Cornelia Street again”

A year and a half later, inhabiting a new body, you were not smiling anymore as you were playing this, the strumming on the guitar slower and more sorrowful, and your voice sounded hoarse, like you had been crying. Neteyam couldn’t believe that you would come here, in his and your secret place and sing the song you silently confessed your feelings to, after what he saw. He felt his anger poison his body, as his heart picked up pace and made his heartbeat ring painfully in his ears, muffling the sound of your voice. 

“I never did walk Cornelia Street again after that day, you know? I kept my promise.” 

Neteyam freezes in place, a shocked expression marring his features. You heard him, even with your back to him, even while playing and with the soft hum of the river to dull your senses, you knew. Felt him, his presence that charged this clearing like the air before lighting strike. He, however, does not seem to hear the hint of sadness in your voice, nor the sniffling that accompanies it. 

“It took me a while to figure out you weren’t going to come back. It did not dawn on me right away. I thought you were just training hard, as you had been for years at that point, I didn’t think anything of it. I only figured it out a month after I played you this song, when my birthday came and you didn’t show. I waited all day. Way past eclipse, way past the point everyone else was gone and sleeping peacefully, I waited. I didn’t sleep that night. I was afraid I was going to miss you and no one would be able to let you through the door. It never occurred to me you wouldn’t show - not until the dawn of the next day. That’s when it hit.”

“I remember singing you this song, I was terrified. I mean, we talked around it all of our lives, I sang you songs, and I read you poems, and you’d sleep in my bed and let me attach myself to you in a way no friend ever would. But this song, I thought, would be the one. The one that would make us finally have to talk through it. The night before, I had watched an episode of Gilmore Girls, right? And it’s that episode when Dean pitches up at Rory’s school after she drops him hints that she’s in love with him, and he gets mad for one reason or another and then she screams at him “I love you, you idiot!”. And he drops all the stuff he was holding and rushes to her and kisses her, like really kisses her. And I remember thinking, I’m going to sing you this song, and this will be my “I love you, you idiot” moment.”

Neteyam walked slowly towards your form that was still turned around from him, and felt two forces tugging at him, ripping him apart. On one hand, there was the rage, and jealousy, the monster that wanted to scream at you, to hurt you for breaking his heart without even acknowledging it. On the other, there was deep sadness and grief, for the new information that he is receiving, for knowing what this meant to you, what he did to you, how he left you the day that you confessed, how that only strengthened his resolve. He didn’t know which was going to win. 

“I never had any expectations. I was never delusional enough to think that you would ever choose me. But I did have dreams. And in the dreams, you told me you loved me too, and that whatever it was, we would always be able to work through it together. That day after my birthday, I felt like something ripped apart in me that I’ve never recovered from. I’ve lost so much of myself throughout the years, every time something new came up. I’ve been in pieces, broken and shattered, my whole life, and yet somehow you managed to walk away with the biggest piece. Because I could never put you in a drawer at the bottom of my desk, like all my other pieces. You were never truly gone, you were just far enough that I could never reach you, but near enough that I could never heal. I mourned you, mourned the me that you took with you, every day for months. Losing you broke me, Neteyam. You broke me. I will never forgive you for that night.”

“Well I guess we’re both fucking disappointed with each other then.” 

Neteyam saw you shoulders hunch even more than they were and your head bow towards the ground. You hand raised to your cheeks and wiped something off your face, before you finally stood up and and turned around, facing him. Neteyam’s breath caught in his throat at the new sight. Your eyes were puffy and red, and tears marked your cheeks, so pronounced it was as if they would stain your face forever. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He felt his own tears threatening to spill then, pricking at his eyes painfully, begging to be released. There was so much pain inside of him, pain you caused him, pain for the hurt he knew he caused you, pain that felt like it will never diminish. 

“You’re sitting here, talking about that night and this song, in this place that once meant so much to us, after giving yourself to another man, to my fucking brother, and you want me to feel bad?”

He saw your face slowly register his words, as if you were mulling over every word carefully, turning it in your mind, and saw how your face went from sad to cold and unflinching and a shiver ran down his spine. You rose an eyebrow at him, an expression only he seemed to have the power to coax out of you. 

“What did you just say?” 

“You heard me. I saw you. I saw you in the forest, his hands all over you, I saw you running your hand up and down his arm. I’ve known he has been sneaking in your tent for weeks. What are you doing with my baby brother in your tent late at night, Y/N?”

FIVE STAGES OF GRIEF STAGE II: ANGER

“You honestly have some fucking nerve, Neteyam.” 

“You do not get to come here, come to this place, or any place for that matter and demand an explanation from me. I don’t owe you anything. You fucking left, Neteyam! We’re nothing to each other. Whatever claim or right you might have had once to ask anything of me or from me is long gone.” 

Neteyam stalked towards where you were standing, your words echoing in his mind. He was mad, mad at you for what you did, but also mad at himself. Because he knew you were right. He had no right to come here after abandoning you and the relationship you two had and be angry that you moved on. And yet he was. 

He was so close to you now he could feel your breath fanning over his face as you looked up at him, panting with anger, lips slightly opened. He couldn’t help look at them, those lips he has dreamed about for years, the way they’d feel on him, their taste… your taste. It was driving him insane, being so close to you, knowing what he knew. 

“Why? Why Lo’ak? You could have picked anyone else.”

You chuckled bitterly. “Really? So if I picked Akoa or Tärze, you wouldn’t be here right now, wouldn’t be mad and looking at me like somehow I betrayed you?” 

“Or is it possible it doesn’t actually matter who it is, it’s not the fact that it’s Lo’ak… it’s the fact it’s not you.” 

“You see, I think deep down you know it should have been you. I think deep down it kills you that you are not in my tent late at night. You’re not the one that gets to touch me.” he felt your hand place over his bare chest and run it down his abdomen until it reached his red loin cloth, which you slightly tugged at. He felt his cock twitch in response. 

You don’t know what came over you. You came here to mourn, still reeling after your conversation with Lo’ak. You never expected to see him here, hear his presence while you sang the song that once signified hope and love, and now is just a bitter reminder of all you’ve lost. You definitely never expected him to question you over Lo’ak, or be so angry over something that would never happen anyway. 

You were furious with him, furious that he never told you how he felt for you, and now he was clearly showing it to you by his displays of anger and jealousy. This was not how this was supposed to go. 

You felt a sick satisfaction at his demeanour. You made him like this, this angry, nose flared and panted breaths, you had this power over him. Just the thought of you with another man drove him to this point, and you loved it. He deserved it, deserves much worse. 

“You should leave, Neteyam.”

You started turning your back to him, but he took hold of your arm and kept you in place forcefully. His other hand went to your neck, and you felt him wrapping his hand around it and squeezing. 

“No.” 

You were shocked at his actions, and even more shocked at the immediate reaction your body had to him. You felt throbbing deep within you, and squeezed your thighs tightly together to accommodate for the feeling. 

“I’m not leaving until you tell me. Did you fuck my brother, Atan (light)?” 

He was still squeezing your throat, and you felt your pulse quickening when he moved and took a hold of you jaw, forcing you to look in his eyes. He looked mad, sad, desperate for an answer that would either mend or break him. You felt his intense stare in every cell in your body and felt yourself clench around nothing. 

You wanted to lie, wanted to see him suffer at least some of the hurt he’s caused you. But you couldn’t, not with how he was looking at you, not with how he was holding you. 

“Fuck you, Neteyam. I would never do that. Fuck you for thinking for a second that something like would ever even cross my mi-“

It wasn’t possible for you to finish the sentence, as his lips roughly slammed against yours, and you immediately, as if your body needed no input from your mind, raised your hands to the circle around his neck, pushing him closer to you. 

You moaned into the kiss, and the sound removed any ounce of sanity or self-discipline from his being, and he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss and slide his tongue over your bottom lip, begging for permission. 

He felt his hand drop back around your throat, squeezing, loving the feel of your quickened pulse, knowing he was responsible for it, for your swollen lips and dilated pupils, for the way you were squeezing your thighs together. You were his, to love, to touch, to do whatever he wanted to. 

He was so hard now, his loincloth was constricting around him painfully, and he knew if he kept going, he was not going to able to stop himself until you were writhing underneath him, until he made you beg and scream his name over and over, all night long. 

“Pathfinder, this is Devil Dog, come in, over.” 

Fuck. 

Your body ached at the loss of contact, as Neteyam removed his hand from around your throat and his lips from your own. He was panting, and tried to steady himself before he touched the little button on the radio on his neck, sighing deeply. 

“I’m here, Devil Dog. What’s your post? Over.” 

You turned your back to him, and took a few steps towards the river, trying to compose yourself. What the fuck did I just do? This was bad, for so many reasons, it was making you dizzy just counting them all. You couldn’t hear what Jake was saying to Neteyam, but it couldn’t have been good, it was very rare Jake would use the radio to communicate with his kids, you’ve only seen it once when there was a hunting accident that needed everyone’s attention. 

“You need to get back to the village, now. We have a situation. If Y/N is with you, bring her back, too. Over and out.” 

Shit, this can’t be good, Neteyam thought to himself. He looked over at you and saw you turned your back to him, hiding. You were good at that, pretending, denying, avoiding. Pushing your feelings aside was your favourite defence mechanism, had been ever since your mum died. 

His eyes softened and he felt stupid for having doubted you, for spending so many weeks losing sleep over something that never even happened. Guilt also immediately pooled in his gut from the kiss, the confession, the implications of it, all of which things he would have to deal with sooner or later. The horror at the thought of the consequences of his actions made his skin crawl, but he didn’t have too much time to dwell on it, knowing his dad expected them to hurry.

“Hey… we have to get back, dad said to meet him in the village.”

You nodded weakly in his direction, and started making your way towards the village. Once again, he found himself having to clasp your arm by your wrist and turn you around so you could face him. You refused to look at him, so he cupped your face in his hand and raised you head gently so you could look at him. His thumb was ghosting over your lips, that were still swollen and when his eyes met yours, he saw a sadness so deep it made Pandora’s oceans feel like shallow pools. 

“We need to talk, properly talk.” 

You just nodded silently and removed his hand from your face, and the last thing he saw was your back, walking away. 

You were deep in thought as you arrived in the village, and were pulled out of your musings when you saw a big commotion happening all around you. You have never seen the village like this.

There was a crowd of people by the big bonfire, so that’s where you and Neteyam figured to look first. 

“…and no matter what comes next, we will stand and fight, together!” You heard big screams and ululating as Jake’s voice boomed throughout the village, above all the noise. 

You saw Norm and Max, all the humans and avatars on the right of the Olo’yektan. On his left stood Mo’at, Neytiri and all their children, plus Spider. Lo’ak was screaming and beating his chest, whilst Kiri looked concerned, and Tuk was almost crying, with a tight grip on her mum’s hand. You made your way through the mass of people, reaching the foot of the large tree stump acting like a platform. Jake spotted you and helped you up, and you saw Neteyam following you from the corner of your eye. 

Since the speech was done, people started dissipating, and Jake turned his attention to the pair of you. 

“Last night, Neytiri and I spotted a star in the night sky that shone brighter than it ever had before.” 

Panic rose in your chest at his words, words that you knew could only mean one thing. “The humans are returning.” you said, meekly. 

Jake nodded in your direction with anger flashing across his face, before he composed himself. 

“We knew this day was coming, but it is definitely different when it is finally happening than the image you had in your head.” you heard Norm pitch in from somewhere behind Jake. 

“How long?” Neteyam asked. 

“About a week?” Max said, and the man with such a kind and gentle face was scared, you realised sadly. Everyone was scared. 

“Fuck.” Neteyam’s face was unreadable. The war he trained all his life for was finally on his doorstep. 

“I need you to complete your Iknimaya before then. Tomorrow, you will go perform your first kill. You are more than ready. It’s time. When the humans come, I need you with me. With us.”

You couldn’t swallow the lump that has formed in your throat enough to speak, so you just nodded. You were not ready. The last time you were on an Ikran, you almost died. You felt the phantom pain on your left leg flare up, and you were terrified at the prospect of another flashback triggering as you were fighting for your life on top of the Hallelujah mountains, trying to make the bond. 

The crowd eventually dispersed and everybody went back to their homes. There was a heaviness in the air, no smiles or singing tonight, no communal dinner where people animatedly exchange stories and anecdotes; you saw Na’vi hugging their loved ones, keeping them close at all times, as if letting go would mean letting go forever. The war was upon you, and with it, the possibility of loss and grief settled in the bones of every one of the villagers. 

You felt sick to your stomach. A shiver ran through your entire body, and, at the weakness that enveloped your being suddenly, you knew the effects of all the pills you took to mitigate your symptoms have worn off. The dizziness you felt was more than just a weak headache you could ride out, but a sign your human body was fighting to maintain the neurolink inside the pod. You didn’t have much time. 

“I’m gonna go to bed. See you all tomorrow.” You needed to be in your tent when you passed out, otherwise it would raise suspicion immediately and you couldn’t afford that. 

“Hey, you can’t leave. We still need to talk.” Neteyam said, lightly tugging at your arm. 

“Not today, Neteyam.” You removed your limb from his grasp and left without giving him a second look. 

You were pulled out of the linkpod quite violently by your own body recoiling in agony. You felt a stupid ping of gratefulness at the fact that, although due to horrible news, at least no one was in the lab or adjacent hubs at the current moment. You struggled to get up, and found the walk back to your room excruciating, like no matter how much you walked, it was not anywhere in sight. When you arrived, you went straight to the bathroom and barely managed to make it to the toilet before throwing up, your body violently convulsing in on itself, trying to expel everything from your body. You haven’t had a proper meal in this body in months, so all your body was managing to get rid of was bile, bitter and acidic on your tongue. 

When you were done, you pushed your body weakly towards the sink, and gargled the bad taste away with some water and mouth wash. You peered up at the mirror, and were alarmed by the face that met your gaze. You barely recognised yourself. Your face looked ghastly, the palest you have ever been, the hollows of your cheeks looking like pits of shadows and darkness. 

Your under-eye bags gave away how little sleep you were actually functioning under, how little rest you actually got in the last few months. You looked truly sick, although you didn’t know how much of that was the virus and how much it was just you… ignoring your body like you ignored everything that you had to work through, everything that required healing and spiritual effort, and trading it for a easy-to-digest fantasy.

You made your way towards your bed limply and was comforted by the bottles of pills you saw on your bedside table, that will provide fleeting relief. You passed out on the bed soon after, happy that the suffering could be over for at least some hours. 

You woke up a couple of hours before dawn, with a raging fever and chills running up and down your spine, and instead of struggling back to sleep, you got up slowly and put some clothes on, making your way towards the labs. Today was an important day, and you needed to be focused for it, you couldn’t afford the same thing as yesterday take place. In the medical ward, you scrambled in the drawers until you found what you were searching for. The holy grail, injectable morphine. You hastily grabbed a syringe and a needle, measured out the amount needed, shook the syringe to remove any air bubbles, and directed it to your arm, where you injected it in your vein. Placebo effect or not, you felt immediate relief, and you knew this would put you through the day. 

Norm came to the linkpod to help with the neurolink, and he gave you a worried look as he watched you settle in. 

“I think you should be taking a break from this.”

“Are you serious right now? The humans are literally circling the atmosphere as we speak, I can’t afford to take breaks now, you know this.”

“What I know is that you look about a week away from collapsing in my arms, and your Avatar won’t work without you, Ace. You’re always in the village, and you don’t sleep. You’re always running experiments when you are here. Look, I love your enthusiasm, and I love that you’ve finally getting outside and enjoying your life, but there’s also too much of a good thing.” 

You were started to feel anger pick at your brain, much like the virus you were carrying with you everywhere you went. 

“You made this for me. You made me this Avatar. You guilt tripped me into taking it. Now you’re unhappy I’m using the Avatar. Why don’t you make up your mind and let me know, Norm? In the meantime, I have to go.”

You lay in the on the pod and placed the metal frame on top of your body, and you couldn’t miss the tear that fell on Norm’s face as he closed the lid of the pod. 

It was still before dawn when your consciousness woke up in the blue body you’ve come to love so much, and you couldn’t help feel immense guilt at the words you spat at Norm. He doesn’t deserve any of this; he has been a surrogate uncle for you ever since you were born. He made you an Avatar, he built you a guitar. He helped you go outside and live your life, he was always there for you if you needed to talk, or vent. He has always believed in you, in your capacity to help, to do good, to overcome your grief. You would have to apologise to him come nighttime. 

You saw Jake make his way to you as you opened the flap to your tent. “Hi, kid.” Tensions were running high, you could tell, as Jake did not smile or make light conversation, as he always tended to do. He would always take the time to check in, to make sure you are doing well, which you appreciated massively. You loved having him and the rest of the family around. It felt like you belonged, for the first time in your life. 

“So you, Neteyam, Akoa and Heesu will go and they will watch you perform your first kill. Early tomorrow, we will go take the Iknimaya, and then you will be able to join Neteyam on raids and scouting. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds good, boss.” You saw him crack a tiny smile at that, and felt better you could still make him smile, even in these circumstances.

Neteyam came out of the tent looking… so good it made your mouth fill with saliva. He was holding his bow tightly in his hands, and he was adorning new jewellery, you noted. A beautiful black necklace, filled with beads and impressive craftsmanship, his red and green cummerbund tightly wrapped around his ribcage, and his knife tucked on his hip, all came together to bring about Neteyam Te Sulli Tsyeyk’itan, the future leader of the Omaticaya. But what really drew your eye, was a bracelet. A green bracelet that he kept around his arm, whose every bead and stone was imprinted in your mind, for the rest of time. Why was he wearing that bracelet, why now? What was he trying to tell you?

Neteyam found his gaze drawn to the girl next to his dad, the only girl that existed, as far as he was concerned. He barely slept last night thinking of you, of that kiss, of your confession, of the song, and he knew he had to make it right sooner rather than later. The humans were coming, not one of them knew what their lives were going to look like in a few weeks, and there was so much to set straight, the thought made him nauseated again. He had to tell you. Your eyes found his and he saw many emotions passing through them, and was happy to see at least one of them was passion, and yearning. You looked at him like you wanted to do things Eywa would disapprove of, and he felt himself twitch in pain for what felt like the millionth time recently. 

Neteyam led the pack away from the village and towards the forest where you would have to make your first kill. He had no doubt in his mind you would do well, he honestly doesn’t know why it has taken so long to do it to begin with. You’ve been ready for weeks. After stalking quietly through the forest for a couple of hours, you found a herd of Yerik. Neteyam closed his gap on you and placed a hand on your back, smiling to himself at the way you shuddered when he did. 

“You’ve got this. We’ve been through this and you are ready. Remember, keep a knee on the ground for support. Good luck.”

You nodded without looking at him, eyes plastered on one of the animals peacefully grazing on a bush. He saw you, focused and determined, aiming the arrow with precision and power, and he knew then you were made for this. You were made to be here, as one of the people, you were meant to be Na’vi. 

You made quick work of the kill, and immediately got up from your crouched stance and made your way to the now fatally injured Yerik. You removed your knife from where it was placed on your chest, and repeated the words he taught you weeks ago. “Oel ngati kameie, ma tsmukan, ulte ngaru seiyi irayo (I See you, Brother, and thank you). Ngari hu Eywa salew tirea, tokx 'ì'awn slu Na'viyä hapxì (Your spirit goes with Eywa, your body stays behind to become part of the People).”

Perfect, just like he knew you would do. You were nervous, he noted, but you also seemed happy to have finally done it, after all this time training. All four of you made your way back to the village, the two men accompanying you carrying the animal by its legs. Neteyam wanted to talk to you, wanted to get you alone so he can finally tell you all the things he had to say, that he needed to say, the secret that has plagued him for weeks and that drove a wedge between him and his baby brother. Unfortunately, it seems like the universe fated you to never be alone with him again. Right after you arrived at the village, Jake took all of you to gun practice and through strategy meetings about how to plan an attack once the Sky People decelerated. Those lasted the whole day, and before he knew it, you left to your tent again, leaving him to deal with his dad on his own. 

“Neteyam. Stay, I want to talk to you.”

“Yes, Senpul (dad)?”

“Did you tell her yet?” 

“Not yet. I’m trying to find some time, but it seems like we are never together alone anymore.”

Neteyam saw his dad sighing heavily and was scared for the hell he knew would rain down on him sooner or later.

“Neteyam, you have to tell her. You have asked us to keep your secret, and we have. We have all participated in this, and I am getting tired of lying for you. The kids don’t want to lie to her anymore, your mother doesn’t want for this to be a secret anymore. She deserves to know.” 

“You will tell her by the end of the week, or I will.” 

Your body convulsed as your mind woke up in your human form, and you tried to hide it as best as you could so whoever was helping you get disconnected wouldn’t notice. To your disappointment, it was Max. 

“Hey, sweetheart. How was it today?”

“Good, made the first kill. Going up the Iknimaya tomorrow, which can’t say I am particularly excited about.” 

“Oh, honey, you shouldn’t worry about it. It’s going to be completely different than that dreadful day. You are going to be able to control it, you will be connected to it. Plus Toruk has never been spotted this close to the banshee rookery, so there will be nothing making your Ikran nervous.”

“Yeah, guess you are right.” You said, not wanting to tell Max that rationalising it doesn’t achieve anything except making you feel stupid for being scared. “Where’s Norm?”

Max looked agitated for a second, but tried to compose himself enough to appear nonchalant about the subject. “Um, I think he’s in his room, he told me he wants to read this book he still hasn’t gotten around to, if you can believe that. He's been here for almost 19 years, you’d think there’s be nothing new to do here anymore.” 

You hoped you weren’t as bad a liar as seemingly everyone you have come across recently, otherwise your illness is not as much of a secret as you’d hoped. 

“He told you.”

“Yeah…” 

“I was such a dick. I have to apologise. I’ll go find him.”

“Maybe give him some time? He looked really upset, and I think he just needs to lick his wounds by himself for a while.”

“I didn’t mean it, Max. I am just tired and stressed because of the Iknimaya and the humans returning, not that that’s any excuse.” 

“I know, honey. He will be alright, just give it time. Time heals everything.”

You could only pray that was the case, for Norm….and for yourself.

You woke up the next morning groggy, feeling sick from your illness and sick from all the pills you ingested last night. If this was starting to be a problem, it was a problem you were gonna have to deal with later. Pandora’s box can hold a couple more issues for the time being. You made your way quietly to the medical ward and found the morphine vial you used yesterday. Withdrawing a few more millilitres, you injected yourself in the arm with it, instant relief flooding your system. You sighed happily and thought this was probably the closest you’ve ever gotten to feeling euphoric. 

Your Avatar body looked ready to tackle the Iknimaya, in all new garbs and a new necklace that Kiri made for you recently, as well as Lo’ak’s visors. Tuk and Neytiri were braiding your hair fresh, so you were all ready to go by the end of the eclipse. Feeling how nervous you were, Neytiri put her hand on your heart, and looked into your eyes and she placed the last feather in your hair. 

“It will be alright, ma 'ite. You have done better than any other Dream Walker ever has. Even better than the Toruk Makto. I know you are scared because of what happened in the past, but you have grown so much since then. You are such a special child, a gift from Eywa. There’s light in you no darkness can snuff out, and you were made to be one of us. Do not worry.” 

You let out a small cry and hugged the woman that could have been your mother in these 9 years after you lost your own, who has loved you and protected you every chance she got, that wanted to take you in the village and raise you as one of the people, but who you pushed away out of fear, out of terror at the possibility of more loss, more pain. She never held a grudge, she never turned her back on you, even after shunning them from your life, she understood you and welcomed you back with open arms as soon as you felt ready to join them. She saw you. You will never be able to repay her kindness.

“We’ll be with you. Kiri and I will fly and bring Tuk on one of our Ikrans. Spider, Lo’ak, Neteyam and Jake will come on their Pa’li with you and make the climb. It will be good practice for them. We all want to celebrate with you. We can all join you on your first flight, so this way it will be less scary.” 

You were fully crying in the crook of her neck now, unable to believe the luck you had to having been born somewhere where the Sullys existed at the same time. There was a lot of pain in your life, but this family would always be your good karma, it seemed. 

The climb was the most excruciating thing you have ever had to do. Every muscle in your body was pushed to its limits, and you were beginning to wonder how you were supposed to fight a huge animal after all of this. You understand now this is why this was the ultimate test of becoming a hunter, and why there were not many hunters in the Omatikaya. The thought brought a gust of confidence to your mind - you were doing this. You. You’ve gotten so far, further than any scientist on Pandora ever has. You grew up in a lab with severe agoraphobia and unsolved trauma and you still made it here. You will do this, because you have to. Because you’ve come so far. 

It was taking every ounce of discipline to not continuously stop and stare at the beauty of the Hallelujah mountains, that you have heard so much about, but never experienced for yourself, and you realised you needed to swallow often to compensate for the dryness you felt from your mouth being stuck agape in awe at the beauteous miracle. 

You found yourself peering up at Neteyam frequently throughout the climb, and thoughts about yesterday made your already drugged-out mind even airier. There was so much to think about, so much to talk about, but you couldn’t handle it right now. You couldn’t handle the consequences of that kiss and the hurt that would inevitably emerge from your star-crossed fate. You were dying. Although you didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to acknowledge the reality that your body was falling apart in front of you, it was happening. You probably had another couple of weeks before your heart gave out from all the strain the virus was putting on your whole body, just like it happened with all the other victims. 

As if he could feel you, Neteyam turned around and gave you a nervous look. You wondered what he thought of everything, how he felt. Was he happy about the kiss? Did he regret it? In his defence, he has been wanting to talk to you for days and you avoided him, unable to deal with him at the moment. He will just have to be another trinket in the Pandora’s box until you finished the Iknimaya. Making it to a large suspended boulder before you, he stretched out a strong arm for you, and you took it, happy to have at least some physical contact between you. His touch has always calmed your nerves, from when you were children, and now, as adults, that still hasn’t changed. 

He didn’t let go once you climbed next to him. Taking advantage of the fact you two were the last to climb, he took hold of your arm with one hand, and placed the other on your face, cupping it gently. His thumb found its way to your lips again, caressing them softly and you felt intoxicated from his touch. He brought his face close to yours and brought your foreheads together, breathing you in. You stood like this, staring at each other for a while, and it was like all the words you wanted to say to each other were spoken wordlessly. I love you. I see you. I’m sorry. 

“Are you guys coming or what?” You heard Spider screaming from a higher up boulder, and you reluctantly let go. He squeezed your arm one more time, and then motioned for you to climb in front of him. You weren’t far off now, you realised, and felt your heart picking up pace in your ribcage. 

Soon enough, you were there. You could hear thousands of banshees screaming and cooing, and you thought it was mirroring your internal dialogue quite well, loud and incoherent. Neteyam held a hand in front of your body as you made your way across a narrow ledge behind a waterfall, that connected the cave to the banshee nest. 

“Ok, kid. This is it. Are you ready?” Jake began speaking and you were trying to focus on him instead of the panicked feeling rising in your chest. 

As you were preparing to respond, you heard loud ululating from the sky, and immediately saw two beautiful banshees making their way to the mountain and settling in the cave you just left behind. You smiled at the view, excited that Neytiri, Kiri and Tuk could make it in time. They followed you to the nest and you brought your curled fingers to your forehead, greeting them warmly. I see you.

“Good luck, sister! I cannot wait to fly with you!” Tuk’s enthusiasm never failed to bring a wide smile to your face. 

You looked around at all the people who have travelled so far to come and be with you on this day. Your family, for all intents and purposes. You felt tears coming, but pushed them away with a sigh, trying to toughen your resolve. You gave one last look to Lo’ak, who was watching you sadly, the pain from yesterday still fresh in both your minds. You loved him so much, and hoped he would be able to forgive you in time. You touched his gift, now resting on your forehead, and gave him a grateful smile and a wink. He cracked a small grin and you knew then that your relationship wasn’t totally in ruins. 

“This is it, Atan. Now you must choose your Ikran. If it also chooses you, move quick, like I’ve showed you. You will have one chance. I will be behind you in case you need any help. Please don’t fall off a cliff, I don’t think my heart could take it again.” 

You laughed a little at his attempt of diffusing a situation. It wasn’t his best attribute. 

“Ok then, let’s dance.” 

Neteyam watched as you made your way through the Ikrans, and how they all flew away in fear at your sight - beautiful banshees that made him miss his own and reminisce about his own Iknimaya. You looked ready - powerful and confident, like you have always belonged here, with them. You were swinging your yìmkxa (mouth binder) and approaching each Ikran forcefully, hissing at them to hopefully provoke the right one. Eventually, a big banshee, bigger than his and most others he’s seen around, turns around to face you and does not remove itself from your path in the same way all the others had. It is a beautiful animal, white and gold with purple and pink wings and green stripes on its head, it looked different than any other in the village. Fitting, he thought. This was it.

He heard a loud hiss coming from where you were stood. The Ikran hissed back wildly and charged towards you. His heart was getting ready to exit his body at its speed and power, and he was panting in fear and anticipation, ready to jump in at any moment’s notice, in case you needed it. He saw you remove yourself quickly, skilfully, out of the animal’s way and wrap the yìmkxa around its mouth. Good, first step done. 

You then took a hold of your queue and jumped on the Ikran’s back, placing your thighs around its neck and squeezing with all of your might. The Ikran wrung its neck in an attempt to escape you, but you worked on this for months preparing for this day - you were not letting go. Neteyam saw the banshee make its way towards the edge of a cliff, and you wrapped the arm that wasn’t holding the queue around its neck for more support. 

Neteyam felt like he was going to pass out from the stress, and saw the next moments happen in slow motion, just like almost 7 years ago when you fell mid flight: the ikran managing to drop off the cliff, his wailing scream and immediate desire to join you, the hands of his mother and father wrapping around him keeping him in place, his own ikran dropping from a cliff at the sound of his call, him removing his parents’ hands forcefully and running towards his banshee, scrapping his arm painfully on the rock and the stabbing throb that followed, the feeling of a fresh injury and blood spilling down his arm, and yet still, no other thoughts in his mind than the need to save you, to right his past wrongs. 

He makes the bond quickly and before anyone could stop him, he’s in the air, flying around the rock and beneath it, trying to see where you could be. He was shocked to find you still on your ikran, holding for dear life while the animal was flying upside down, shaking itself furiously to get rid of you. He saw you drop the arm you were using to hold on to it, only managing to hold on by the strength in your thighs, and connected the queues with a loud yell.

“STOP!” He heard you scream. “TURN AROUND, NOW!” 

He couldn’t believe his eyes. You made your Tsaheylu, upside down, mid-flight. He watched as the banshee turned around and made its way back to where his family was, and he still had no words he could say to explain or describe what he was feeling in that moment. It was beyond words. He felt his arm twitching painfully and he quickly looked at it and saw the deep scratch that was leaking blood and staining his loincloth where his arm was laying. 

You did it. You actually did it. This little prick came at you with all her might and you still held on to her. You learnt a lesson or two from riding a banshee as a 13 year old defenceless human, and the most important lesson was: hold on for dear life. Good to see it came in handy. You also made it a point to thank Neteyam for making you hang upside down in trees to shoot down targets, you can see now it helped. You landed at the base of the rookery and watched as every one of your family members was smiling and yelling, cheering loudly for your accomplishment. They looked so happy, and you couldn’t help shed a small tear and the sight. 

These were your people, for the remainder of this short life, and you were happy you got to do this before you went. Happy you got to see them together, for you. You looked around at Neteyam and couldn’t see him, but then heard a loud, excited yelp from behind you. He looked so happy and proud, your heart swelled at the sight. This man would be the death of you, you knew. You loved him so much, and you knew it was time, time to talk through it. 

“First flight seals the bond.” he screams over the noise of the banshees and the waterfall. “Let’s go.”

The entire family called for their ikrans, and in less than a minute, you were airborne. You told your banshee to fly gently and straight, and held on tightly to her neck while you tried to adjust to all these new overwhelming emotions. The feeling of flying was incredible, so much more so than you remembered. Maybe because this time you were in control. The feeling of the Tsaheylu... Lo’ak was right, it was so much stronger than the Pa’li, the connection you had with this animal. You knew you were bonded for life, shared a kinship and bond no one could break until one of you died, maybe even after. The feeling of belonging, as you watched 5 other ikran fly alongside yours and help you through your first of many adventures in the sky. You felt grateful and happy to have made it so far before the inevitable end.

You made it at the village soon after eclipse, laughing and dancing while you walked back, hand in hand with Kiri who was rolling her eyes at you but joining in anyway. Tuk was holding your other hand, and you lifted her up and carried her all the way back while she played with your braids. 

As you arrived to your tent, you saw the rest of the family go into their own, with the promise you’d join after dropping all of your stuff. Neteyam stayed behind, closing his distance to you and only stopping when he was so close to you his chin was touching your forehead. It was only then you saw his arm, dried blood spilt everywhere and marring his beautiful blue stripes. His loincloth was also red, you noted, and saw the gash that was the culprit, high on his arm, still red and bleeding, although not enough to justify this much blood. It must have been bleeding for a while.

“What the hell happened to you?!” You said with a panicked voice.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” 

You raised and eyebrow at him and rolled you eyes, and pulled him to your tent by his uninjured arm. 

“Sit. I will clean and stitch it and then we can go for dinner.” 

He did as he was told, quietly sitting on the ground while you gathered supplies: some gauze, disinfectant, numbing cream, stitches and a needle driver, as well as some forceps and scissors. He squirmed at the sight, and you rolled your eyes again.

“You drive me crazy when you roll your eyes at me, you know? I would kill to be the reason your eyes roll in the back of your head at night.”

You blushed at his words, and sat next to him on the ground.

“You have to stop, Neteyam. We can’t do this again.”

You turned your focus on his wound, and began cleaning it slowly so as to not injure him further. 

“I can’t stop, Atan. I can’t think of anything else. I have so much I want to say to you, so much I need to get off my chest.”

He sounded sad, desperate for you to hear him out, his eyes pleading and pained. 

“How about we talk, after dinner? This time, you can be the one sneaking in my tent late at night.” you said sarcastically, not having forgotten his outburst from earlier and realising you were still angry at him for it. 

“Yes, please.” 

You sat in silence the rest of the time, as you worked with skilled, focused hands. You stitched his wound carefully, so as to not leave him with a scar. When you finished, you smiled up at him, and reached your hand to touch his face, moving a strand of beaded hair from it and pushing it behind his ear. He was so, so beautiful. He brought a hand to your chin and was pulling you closer, when someone entered the tent without making their presence known, making you both jolt back in shock. It was a girl. You’ve seen her before in the village, she was a healer in training. Beautiful and skilled, she was a good singer and a good craftswoman, making a lot of the clothes the Na’vi hunters wore. 

“Oh, Great Mother, here you are! Your mother told me about your injury, and I had to come find you so I could help!” She kneeled down on the other side of Neteyam from where you were sitting and touched Neteyam’s chest, moving him around looking for the bleed, that was no longer there. 

“Oh, it seems much better now than what was described. I guess it’s true what they say, you really are that skilled.” She turned her attention to you and smiled. 

“Thank you. I don’t think we’ve properly met.”

“You’re right, my bad! I’m Tiongli. Neteyam’s mate.” 

It was so quiet in the room now, you were sure they could both hear your heart break into a million pieces. 

Tag list: @nuhteyam @eywas-heir @fanboyluvr @mashiromochi @puffb4ll @sassy-persona @simp4ff @mommyneytiri @k----a27s

[stardreamer28]

the one my ex-best friend dedicated to me when I was cheated on by my fiance in 2012 on Valentines Day (& he was right unfortunately)

[artsychaosbean]

Now I am in no way an abusive person, ask any of my friends, my family or even my fiance and even some of my ex friends, and they can tell you that, I put my all into everything and am a constant source of support even when its detrimental to my own health, I never start fights, I walk on eggshells and I work my a** off to make sure everyone else is comfortable and happy before I even focus on myself and I've been this way my whole life to everyone around me regardless of age. The only time people have been "Angry" at me and called me toxic is when I didn't want to do something and said NO because I felt like it crossed boundaries, or when I rejected someones romantic advances and no longer felt comfortable being friends with them. Or I was called toxic for "Thinking too much about what you are going to say and being careful of other peoples feelings. It makes me feel inadequate and bad for not doing the same when you do it for me" LITERALLY word for word what my last ex said while she was abusing me and telling me I deserved the abuse. THAT is the type of person I am and YES I can be a b*tch if I hate your guts and you have done nothing but hurt me and my friends and family. 

But for me everything is earned, respect, trust and even my ire. But I'm quite patient sometimes more than I should be which has resulted in years of abuse from "friends". But even when people hurt me, Love is unconditional.

With R & T in specific I have stayed up late nights until I've been up for a full 24 hours on numerous occasions taking care of them. I've even stayed up when sick and needing rest when im supposed to be bed ridden, I've forced myself out of bed to take care of them and other friends. (Which usually resulted in me getting even more ill)

Most nights I get 5 hours of sleep because I have to help people all the time bc everything is a crisis. I'm always exhausted, always sick. I have chronic illnesses and disabilities but I still go the extra mile for everyone and they know it. Bc they ASK it of me and get upset if I don't.

So theres no good damn reason to compare me to abusive characters. You see why im so offended by it?

R also constantly keeps acting superior to me all the time over the fandoms looking down on me bc they are the "more dedicated fan" bc they read the fan wikis and are in fan communities im not in. Because I don't have the time for that because im too busy HELPING R & T EVERY SINGLE DAY.

And everytime I think "Okay im going to just say screw it and break off the friendship" as soon as I start being like "hey we really need to talk this is hard to say but it needs to be done" EVERY TIME an "emergency happens" where their anxiety and depression start acting up and then they go on about how no one likes them and how annoying they both are to everyone and how Unloved they feel. And then I cant do it.

I'm a bit annoyed

So im assuming everyone knows about Heaven Officials blessing, The untamed / MDZS / Grand master of demonic cultivation and Scumbag self saving system right? Well for the longest time I was obsessed and I mean obsessed still am. I tried to talk about it with my friends only to be talked over a lot constantly by half of them and the other half did listen interested but quickly moved on and brushed me off as soon as I finished. My life how I've been treated my values morals and mental health is very similar to wei wuxian. Something I've talked about with my friends and from hearing about the story they agreed on. Now I have two friends ill call them R and T R & T just got into these same shows / novels literally like 1 month ago. R & T then proceed to compare me to every single character that no one else agrees im like. Characters I have issues with how they treat people like Madam Yu. They claim is bc "Shes a bada** female character whos very strong" but I find it offensive bc she also was hella abusive. I have repeatedly said I do NOT like that character and do not like being compared to her. But they still do it and will find any character just as bad or that I dislike and compare me to it.. its starting to feel deliberate and not so innocent since they go RIGHT for the ones I SAY I don't like and the reasons why which are negative reasons, and they will compare me to them literally days later.

[starsforbammie]

[9:36 PM] You gasped for breath, tears streaming down your face as you whispered, begging him not to leave you. You hiccuped as you reminded Youngjae of everything he said. How he would love to see you do everyday things with him, how he wanted to wake up with you in his arms every morning, and how he wanted to give you a kiss goodbye every morning only to hear you greet him hello that evening.

Youngjae only watched as you collapsed on the ground, ignoring the pain in your knees as you cried your heart out. You pleaded with him, clutching your hair by the roots as you curled into yourself, almost as if that would help deny the inevitable.

Youngjae hesitantly crouched in front of you, picking your head up and giving you a sad smile. You took in shaky breaths, letting his warmth engulf you. You whimpered at how tightly he held you, like if he didn’t want to let go either. But you whined when he pulled back, reaching for him as he stood up and took a few steps away from you. You stayed glued to the ground, watching as Youngjae climbed in his car and drove off, the engagement ring he gave you still in your clutches.

[quacka-quacka]

How do you know Jane asher continue being george’s friend after her breakup with Paul ?

Tessa Niles, who had worked with George said that in 1991 George "on one occasion ordered a cake from the company of his old friend, Jane Asher." It was 23 years after the breakup of Paul and Jane. She doesn't seem to reject contacts with people in Beatles circle, but I don't think she's okay with Paul. You can sense her obvious unpleasantness when it comes to her ex boyfriend.

The word McCartney turns her from Icing Queen to Ice Queen.

All I've asked is whether she was pleased that a knighthood had been bestowed on her ex-fiance, with whom she lived for five years, who'd dedicated And I Love Her to her and who kept his MBE under her bed.

But I'd have got more out of Barbara Cartland if I'd enquired about her preferred position in the back of a Bentley. I get blanked. Totally.

I try to grope my way out of a hole with: "Well it was a good try, wasn't it?" but she kicks me back down: "No, not really. A pretty obvious one actually."

So I ask if she gets sick of people asking her about Paul McCartney? "No, I get sick of people asking me if I get sick of people asking me about him."

— Jane Asher interview for The Mirror, 1997

[sunnysviolin]

can- can we please have more of the mob au 🥺 i loved it sm would love to see more!!

YES O H My god this is literally my favorite AU. I’m so fucking excited by this oh my god. Okay for you nonnie you get to have the story of how Mari took over her family’s business. Putting this under a read more for strong themes TW: Death TW: Mob TW: Murder (Like someone actively gets killed) 

Mari was raised as her father’s successor. Her mother wanted Mari to not be involved at all and to just be a happy sweet girl who played piano and created a powerful alliance through marriage (She wanted her to be closer to Canon Mari’s personality) 

Her father saw her intelligence, her cunning. He saw her spirit which had a detached power. He knew she would be able to make tough decisions and keep herself whole as she did it. 

Ultimately it’s his decision, and he decides he wants Mari to become him in due time. Her mother moans and wails about it, but he will not be swayed. Even when Sunny is born four years later, he does not budge into stereotypical gender roles.

Mari’s father assembles a team of people for her who are ultimately loyal to her not him. His own consigliere advises against this, but her father knows Mari will be great and in order to achieve that greatness she will need people who are dedicated to her. 

Among those people are a set of twins who belong to a baker under his protection. The twins are Mari’s age and they are strangely morally ethic. The twins are told by their parents that they are to be friends with Mari and to listen to whatever she says. Soon enough they forget they were ever given this direction, Mari is just theirs to follow.

Mari’s father makes one fatal flaw that leads to his downfall. 

When Mari is four and a half years old, he introduces her to Hero. Their parents are affiliated with one another, but they both run their own organizations. They’re civil, but that’s all. They expect their children to be the same.

Their children immediately fall in love. True pure honest to god love. 

Both fathers are less than pleased, but they agree that a union between their families would be mutually beneficial. Hero is the next in line for his own power, and having two strengths would be...interesting. 

It’s a tentative bond that could snap in a second, except Hero and Mari are not as weak as the agreement between their fathers. They spend every day together. They grow together, they learn together, they only get closer and closer.

They know their destiny. They will rule together and nothing will be able to get in their way. They are equals, matched in every way. 

Their fathers are less pleased. Mari’s father refuses to let his daughter and his future be put to the wayside, and Hero’s father has no interest in having his son be anything less than the most powerful person around. Where their children found balance, the fathers found discord. 

When she is sixteen years old, Mari’s father breaks her engagement with Hero. 

Hero’s father had encroached on his territory (yet again) and it is the final straw for her father. Mari tries to argue with him, but he is deep into his Don headspace, and there is nothing she can say to make him reconsider. He will not have his mind changed, and he is going to deal with the problem once and for all. 

He orders a hit on the entire family. Hero’s mother, father, Kel, even the newborn Sally. But more than anything, if the only one who dies is Hero then her father will be satisfied. He wants to make sure there is no heir other than Mari. No one else but his own blood who can take the crown. 

Mari finds out about this hit, and a cold cruel breeze rolls down her spine. 

Her father’s hold has been steadily weakening the older she gets, and his latest deranged action is unsettling to the capos and his advisors. Even her mother is disturbed by his fervor against her daughter’s ex-fiance. 

Mari has options. Mari makes her choice.

Mari kills her father on her seventeenth birthday. The morning of March 1st is freezing, but her hand on the pistol doesn’t shake. Her father is still raging, still yelling at his men and shouting orders. Mari doesn’t need to shout. Her word is law. 

A congregation watches her. Hero’s mother and father who she warned of her father’s plans, Kel and Sunny who are probably too young to watch but have to understand the change, all of the capos who have chosen loyalty to her, and thus chosen to live. Hero is the one who hands her the loaded pistol. He stands at her side as she carries out the hit.  

Those not in attendance include her mother and her father’s top advisors. They are being arrested in a Sting operation she set up. It was good that her mother forced her to keep her pristine mob daughter image. Her snow white dresses and long flowing hair create a perfect picture of innocence. It was all too easy to trick the FBI into doing her bidding. 

Right before she kills him her father becomes fully lucid to what is happening. He stares up at her from past the barrel of the gun. She is not second guessing. She is not grieving him. There is only a cold fury. He dared to threaten what was hers. He had the audacity to try and bite the hand that feeds. 

Her father’s last words continue to haunt her far into her adulthood

“Now you’re a perfect legacy,”

After her father’s death his business splits into parts and divides out. Mari keeps those who were closest to her (and all the money) but the rest she liquidates in one way or another. 

She and Hero are married a month after her father’s death. They are both seventeen. The wedding is a beautiful affair, and that night she sits with her father in law and her husband and they discuss her wedding gifts. 

Her wedding gift is Hero stepping back. She has proven her loyalty to him and their family. She has proven her dedication to their continuation, her ability to do whatever is necessary. Hero has always been better at the other side of things. The wooing, the wheeling and dealing. This is the right way. With her at the helm and Hero as her most trusted, she will create an empire that will outlive all of them. 

Her second wedding gift comes from Daphne and Bowen. Their parents had been a part of those culled, an unfortunate reality. They took custody of their younger brother and ownership of their parents bakery. Their parents had the choice to back the right horse, and they chose wrong. Nether twin holds this against her. They offer her their bakery as her starting point. 

Don Mari begins her reign with blood stained hands and an elegant white wedding dress. White becomes her symbol. 

[lonelier-version-of-you]

Farewell, Matthew Afolami, we hardly knew ye.

Seriously. He’s been such a pointless character. And I find that a real shame, because when he was first introduced as Fenisha’s jilted ex-fiance, I was excited about him and truly felt he had potential.

Instead, he just became a disappointment. He basically seemed to be introduced to kill off Fenisha (and by extension Lev). And after that, the producers seemed to realise they hadn’t a clue what to do with him, so they shoved the PTSD storyline at him and that just ended up falling flat.

One would be forgiven for thinking they accidentally somehow ended up getting Osi Okerafor to sign a year’s contract instead of a, idk, 3 or 4 month one, and they went “oh fuck” when they realised lmao.

I wanted Matthew to be good. I really, truly wanted Matthew to be good. But they were going to have a hard time bringing him back from the Fenisha stuff, and indeed, their attempt at doing so had hardly any emotional impact. Especially since they had him, y’know, falsely accuse someone of sexual harassment. I get the “mental illness can present in unlikeable ways” idea but this was not the way to do that. Osi Okerafor hasn’t really been up to par as an actor, either, though that may just be the quality of the material they gave him.

Sigh. What a letdown Matthew has been. I have nothing more to say about him really so let’s get onto the actual episode.

There were actually some fairly decent scenes with Matthew tonight. The one in Dylan’s office was alright, although admittedly it was mostly Dylan carrying that. The scene where Matthew opened up to Stevie about his PTSD was very good until it ventured into “saying the plot out loud” territory (“I feel guilty about all the lives I couldn’t save!” or whatever).

But the real highlight, for me, was the scenes with Matthew and Jacob. Whoever decided to have Jacob take Matthew’s side because of his own experiences with Tina, I thank them, because that was a GREAT and really interesting idea. I was intrigued by it when I read the spoilers, and it played out just as good as I expected in the actual episode. Even though Jacob was only in a supporting role tonight, Charles Venn was great. Makes me wish he’d been involved in this storyline sooner. Maybe then it would have been better.

I still can’t get past my issue with the false harassment accusation storyline, though. Those sorts of storylines aren’t great in the first place. But the combination of Matthew crying wolf about Stevie, all while Faith stays on the show after literally trying to rape her husband, disturbs me. Especially as we’ve had multiple storylines about predatory men recently that have been taken seriously. This just comes off as sending the message that sexual misconduct by women isn’t as serious and that anyone who speaks out about it must be lying. Yikes, Casualty.

Anyway, at least we got to see Stevie in a suit. That was nice.

I still don’t understand what they’re trying to achieve with Marty and Adi. Are we meant to be rooting for them? Not rooting for them? If we’re supposed to like Adi, why’d they introduce him as an ableist? It’s all so bizarre.

Poor Jessica, though. :(

Paige is back, which is nice. I like Paige, she’s one of the better new characters from the past year. The hints at Rash having a crush on her, though, ehhh. I mean, while I’m all for the good ship Rash/Ethan I’m not super dedicated to the idea of Gay Rash. Bi Rash is also good with me. So that’s not the issue. But I just can’t see Rash and Paige working, they’re too different and not in an “opposites attract” sort of way. And if it’s unrequited that will mean Rash will be sad and I don’t want Rash to be sad. :(

There was something really weird about Dylan’s behaviour tonight to me. The way he just went off on one at Stevie when, for once in her life, she hasn’t actually done anything to deserve it and she was pretty much in the right. There was also the way he responded to Matthew talking about his issues, which I thought at first was just referring to Dylan’s previous struggles but then the Stevie thing makes me wonder if there’s something bubbling away...

I mean, look, frankly I don’t get the impression that poor Dylan has been very well for a long while now. Remember him looking at houses for him and Faith even after she directly rejected him? Yeah, that’s not healthy behaviour.

I suppose there’s Stevie’s past behaviour to consider, that might make Dylan more likely to leap towards judging her. Especially her planting the drugs in Jade’s locker, and we all know how close Dylan and Jade are.

But still. It feels like there’s something going on. Especially after they made a point of Dylan’s reaction to Matthew’s whole “my illness was making my decisions for me” speech. Is Dylan’s LONG-awaited breakdown coming? I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.

Next week, we get our Fenisha back, albeit only in flashbacks! Looking forward to seeing her again. I miss her.

[shadow--writer]

5, 7, 11, 13, 16, and 18 for Maeve ^--^

SO MANY! Thank you so so so so much!!!! This was so much fun to think about! ^^ (asks)

5 - a song that makes my muse sad 7 - a song that my muse always sings along to 11 - a song that reminds my muse of their family 13 - a song dedicated to on of my muse’s ships (specify ship) 16 - a song that my muse can’t stand 18 - a song that plays while my muse trains/works-out

~~~~

5 - Blackbird. It would make her think of her mother, her time with her ex fiance, and make her reflect on herself. It's my go to song for writing angst <3

7 - Dúlamán. She'll sing and dance, and if she's in the mood this is the main song she plays on the flute. It makes her think of the swaying grasses and deep waters of the oceans at home.

11 - Running with the Wolves (WolfWalkers Version). Its the music tbh, she can picture singing and drawing her sisters into dancing with her. All under the moonlight where they're all glowing, or basking by the fireplace after a cool rain. (I like to think of her family like a wolfpack in a way haha. They're just closely knit)

13 - since you didn't specify a ship I'll pick dez and maeve @misery-lake <3. Touch Me (I Want Your Body), from their playlist too huhu. I love grabbing the spicy songs from playlists lmfao. Specificity: Touch me, touch me, I want to feel your body, your heartbeat next to mine and Did I hurt you boy? Didn't I treat you right? You made me feel so good, made me feel myself. I dunno its such a fun song that makes me think of them every time I hear it. Maeve whispering some of the lyrics to Dez while she kisses him just phewie

16 - hmmmmmmm this was a tricky one, but I don't think she'd like Heat Waves as much. No shade to it, she thinks it's just fine, but not really her style.

18 - She's A Rainbow. Her work outs are more flexibility based and running, so she'd pick songs that make her smile and start to sway a bit as she works out, humming along to them. This one just has such a beautiful melody that she can't help but sing along from where she is in her splits or on her morning jog. (when she can fit it in)