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ijustwant2write · 4 years

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Dainty-Fred Weasley x Beauxbatons!Reader

(GIF credit to @fgweasley)

Tags: @wand3ringr0s3 @obsessedwithrandomthings-blog

Requested by anonymous: ‘Hi!!!! i was wondering if you could do a Fred x beauxbatons!reader during the goblet of fire era and he’s like completely enamored with her and gets super fumbly when she’s around. She’s friends with Fleur and apart of the more popular group so he also gets a bit insecure thinking she wouldn’t like him, but she ends up making a move and they are sad when she has to leave bUT (b u t) turns out she actually transfers to Hogwarts to finish her schooling.’

Characters: Fred Weasley x Beauxbatons!Reader, Fleur Delacour x Beauxbatons!Reader (platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

(Y/L/N)=Your last name

Warnings: Insecurities, feeling left out, mentions of death, lots of fluff

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was agitating to the girls of Hogwarts to see every boy fawn over any Beauxbaton girl that crossed their path...until they saw the students from the Durmstrang Institute. It was no surprise that crushes and friendships were formed as the schools joined together for the Triwizard Tournament. Students were able to see other children their age who they had never met, rather than seeing the same people everyday.

(Y/N) sat with her group of friends as they awaited the announcement of each school’s champion. Fleur had confidently put her name in the Goblet of Fire, whereas (Y/N) couldn’t even face the thought of going through that sort of torture. Prior to this, she had a long conversation with Fleur, making sure her friend knew what she was getting herself into. But Fleur was ecstatic to put herself forward. (Y/N) neither had the courage or skill to even consider doing this sort of challenge.

“He’s staring again!” a friend exclaimed, causing her and the others to giggle as they looked at (Y/N).

She suddenly felt on the spot, until she realised they were talking about someone behind her. Hesitantly peeking over her shoulder. It was the tall boy again, the one with long ginger hair.

“(Y/N), you should go speak to him!” Fleur nudged her.

She faced forward again.“Because that will go really well. You know I’ll just embarrass myself.”

“For a Beauxbaton, you really don’t uphold the name very well.” a friend joked, the girls breaking out into giggles again.

(Y/N) laughed along, though it was forced. Although it wasn’t meant to be serious, it still hurt. (Y/N) wasn’t as polished as she hoped she would be after so many years at her school. The other girls were flawless. (Y/N) had to repeatedly rehearse their entrance to Hogwarts whereas they all got it almost straight away. It was embarrassing at times. Her marks in every class were very good, she wasn’t a bad student. But if you took one look at her, you wouldn’t think she was from the same school as the girls sat around her. They were her friends, they loved her as any friend would. She just wished their jokes weren’t always about her.

They were shushed as the headmaster of Hogwarts caught everyone’s attention, instructing them to sit down. Everyone did as they were told, silence washing over them. Dumbledore announced that it was time for the champion selection, darkening the room with a flick of his hand. Everyone waited in anticipation as he caught the first piece of parchment thrown out, announcing Viktor Krum the champion for Durmstrang (not so surprising). (Y/N)’s friend group burst into cheers as Fleur was chosen to represent Beauxbatons. (Y/N) clapped vigorously and cheered loudly until she realised her fellow classmates weren’t being as eccentric as her. Cedric Diggory was last for Hogwarts, and now a buzz of excitement filled the room...until Harry Potter’s name was shot out of the Goblet.

The longest five minutes of silence followed after Harry reluctantly followed the other champions. Students whispered to each other as soon as he left the hall, wondering how the boy wonder got his name in there, and why the Goblet chose two champions for Hogwarts. They were told to leave, and everyone knew the teachers were worried and unsure.

(Y/N) chatted away to her friends, coming up with theories as to why this happened, as well as discussing how they could help Fleur prepare for the challenges. She was so caught up in conversation, she didn’t notice her admirer walking a few steps behind her, his frame towering way over hers. However, her friends definitely saw this, one of them taking the liberty to step on the back of her shoe, causing the heel to slip off. (Y/N) yelped as she stumbled, the heel buckling underneath her. Although she wasn’t going to fall, two pairs of hands steadied her by catching her shoulders.

“Oh!” she exclaimed as she stood upright.“I’m so sorry I-”

(Y/N) caught sight of her group smirking and raising their eyebrows at her as they disappeared around the corner, along with most of the other students walking by.

“-I really need to get some new shoes.”

“As long as you’re alright. Can’ recommend a good shoe shop though. Cause, you know.”

(Y/N) politely smiled, wondering where he was going with this.

“Because...” Fred was trying to come up with his own answer.“Because I’m a boy...man.”

“It should be alright.” (Y/N) said, reaching down to slide the shoe back on her heel.“Thank you though. That was very kind of you.”

“Oh, y-you’re welcome. So, are you from Beauxbatons? Of course you are, that was stupid of me to ask.”

“Did the obnoxiously blue uniform give it away?” she joked.

“I think they’re lovely. Not in a weird way though! Just...um, they’re just different to our drab colours. Everyone blends into one really.”

“I wouldn’t mind that sometimes.”

“Hm?”

“Oh, it’s only...no, sorry, I won’t bore you.”

“You couldn’t bore me!” Fred answered way too quickly.“I’m Fred, Fred Weasley.”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N). Um, I should probably head back to my friends.”

“Yeah, yeah course. See you later.”

“See you later.”

Both teenagers kept their smiles until they turned away from one other, cringing at how the conversation went. Each thought they had blown it, that the other wouldn’t want to talk to them again (which of course, was the very opposite). It felt silly to (Y/N), but she wanted to know more about him already. He was the first guy to come up to her and actually have a conversation, even if it was awkward. Fred couldn’t believe he had spoken to a Beauxbatons girl, especially one that was friends with Fleur Delacour. He hoped that he would be able to find (Y/N) again away from her friends. Girls were scary when they grouped together.

Unfortunately, Fred and (Y/N) found it difficult to see each other again. (Y/N) was swept up into helping Fleur prepare for the tournament, and Fred was creating more business opportunities with his brother. When (Y/N) first returned to her friends after the interaction with the boy who had been staring at her, she expected them to be waiting with anticipation, ready to throw any questions at her, want to know what happened. But she got nothing. She was slightly disappointed, then felt guilty for wanting attention, when clearly this was Fleur’s day.

Fred on the other hand was being tormented. The girls thought it sweet he managed to get a few words out, albeit it a bit head on, whereas the boys relentlessly teased him. They would joke it never happened, or if it did, he could surely waltz up to her again and talk to her. Fred wished he never opened his mouth.

They didn’t speak until after the first task. The pair had stolen glances at each other whenever they could, and (Y/N) couldn’t help doing so whilst the champions faced the dragons, even when Fleur was up. She wanted to talk with him after all four champions made it out alive, but students wanted to go with their representatives to see the golden egg they retrieved. Fred was excited for his friend, though he too was frustrated that his chances (and courage) to speak to (Y/N) again were vanishing.

A few days later, (Y/N) and her group of friends were huddled in the courtyard, gossiping about the upcoming Yule Ball. It was all anyone talked about actually. The faculty found it hilarious and sweet to watch the young students get all flustered over who to ask, how to do it and what to wear, as well as dealing with rejection.

Fred was shoved forward by George as they saw the group of vultures (girls). He sent a glare back to his twin brother, knowing he had been talking himself up to ask (Y/N) to the ball. He hardly knew her, but it was proving difficult to even have a small chat. His heart was racing as he got closer. What if she said no? Was he being stupid thinking she was interested? Why was he doing this in public and in front of her friends?!

The girls looked up as they saw who was approaching, giggling and cooing at (Y/N). She didn’t take any notice, a genuine smile on her face. That smile dropped when she saw Fred tense up, halting in his steps before quickly turning back around. Her friends burst into laughter, and she sent them a scowl before running after him.

“Fred?” (Y/N) called out as she caught up with him.

He cautiously faced her.“Uh, yeah, that’s me. You know that’s me, why would I-”

“Would you like to go to the Yule Ball with me?”

Fred’s mouth was open in shock, wanting to say yes immediately, but surprised she had been the one to ask.“Y-yes. Yes!”

“Great!”

“Yeah, that’s great.”

The two of them could feel their friends watching with eager eyes.

(Y/N) decided to take matters into her own hands.“Can we...can we maybe go for a walk? Now?”

“Let’s go.” Fred was quick to answer.

They walked in silence, somehow knowing where they were headed without a specific destination. Fred took more of a lead when he thought of a place to go. (Y/N) closely followed, spotting a long bridge built next to a viaduct, the cascading water running underneath it. They made it halfway along the bridge before Fred leaned against a post, looking out to the landscape, (Y/N) standing opposite and following his gaze.

“I was going to ask, you know.” Fred started.

“What do you mean?” (Y/N) looked at him.

“When I walked over. I was about to ask you when your friends...they um-”

“They’re scary, I know.”

Fred turned to face her.“What?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I love them all but sometimes we can look quite intimidating as a group. Well, they do, I don’t.”

“Are you joking? I was terrified to talk to you for the first time!”

“Me? Why?”

Fred didn’t have the confidence to look her in the eye as he spoke.“Because you’re a Beauxbatons girl. I mean, you’re all pretty but compared to the rest of them, you’re gorgeous. And you hold yourself so well, you’re with the popular group, meaning if I did anything wrong, everyone would know within seconds-”

“Fred, are you sure you’ve approached the right girl?”

His head shot up again.“Hm?”

“If someone were to describe me, they wouldn’t use any of those words. I’m an awful representation of my school. It’s a wonder I even made friends, let alone be in the ‘popular’ group. They all think that.”

“Who? Your friends?”

“Yeah. They...I don’t know, sometimes they say these things that I have to laugh off, because it’s not specifically mean, but it still hurts.”

“Well if it’s upsetting you, then it’s mean. Friends aren’t supposed to do that.”

“But they have supported me through a lot. I think they just wish I was more...dainty. I laugh out loud too much, get over excited when something good or fun happens. They rolled their eyes at me once because I used a prank device on them that my cousin got my for Christmas. It was supposed to be funny, but they called me childish.”

“Who doesn’t love a good joke? You really should make some new friends.”

“What’s the point? I’m almost done with school. One more year and then I can make new friends wherever I go next.”

“And where do you want to go?”

“Somewhere where I can have fun and laugh everyday.”

Fred smiled.“I think we have a lot more in common than we thought.”

Fred’s words played on (Y/N)’s mind after their pleasant stroll. Fred had showed her around the castle, or what he could in the small amount of time they had. Both were blushing at times, instantly trying to come up with a conversation starter as soon as a second of silence occurred. Nervous giggles escaped them both at times, hiding their face so the other couldn’t see their blushing cheeks.

(Y/N) also found herself hanging out with Fred more than her own friends, and she didn’t feel as guilty as she thought she would. It started with one lunch time together, then a full afternoon. Of course she still helped Fleur and tried to have time with her friends, but (Y/N) had another year at school with them, she didn’t know when she could see Fred again. Her group wasn’t too thrilled about that, which (Y/N) could understand; what she couldn’t understand was why her friends weren’t asking anything about Fred. Anytime the others so much as glanced at a boy, they were all over them, shooting out as many questions as possible. (Y/N) secretly felt even worse when none of them discussed what she was wearing to the ball.

Walking at the back of the group, (Y/N) smoothed down her dress, wishing her friends weren’t in such a bad mood with her. Surprisingly, Fleur had been alright with the matter, but (Y/N) supposed that was because she was focusing on the challenges. What if Fred was right? Were the girls secretly being mean to her? Or was that just because he was seeing it from a boy’s point of view? They always had it so much easier.

The girls all turned around to face each other when they reached the doors of the great hall, (Y/N) was relieved when she was involved. Fleur held hands with the girls beside her, everybody copying to form the circle together.

“This is going to be the best night ever!” Fleur declared, all of them squealing in excitement.“I will see you on the dance floor ladies.”

They all separated, (Y/N) unsure of where to go. She was meeting Fred here, but couldn’t see him, which amused her because of how tall he was, he was hard to miss. Her fingers fiddled together, stopping herself from touching her hair, she had spent far too long on it. Her heart was beating fast, throat feeling choked up as she thought Fred hadn’t shown up. Was this all a joke? He had seemed so genuine. What if her friends had something to do with this? She then felt bad for thinking of them in that way.

“Wow.”

(Y/N) heard someone gasp behind her, but didn’t turn around. That would be a nice reaction to have though.

“Um, I’ll say it again.” she realised it was Fred’s voice.“Wow.”

(Y/N) spun around, her dress swirling against the floor, grinning as she saw Fred in his suit.

“You look so handsome!” she exclaimed before she could think, embarrassingly slapping her hand over her mouth.

“Oh, thank you. I did think I was going to be the best looking here, but you proved me wrong.” Fred was proud of himself when he didn’t mess up that line.

(Y/N) giggled, looking down at the floor.“I’m very excited for tonight. I’m sorry in advance if I step on your toes.”

They both forgot about any nerves, worries or cares once they entered that hall. None of (Y/N)’s friends approached her the whole evening, proving how she really felt about them. She could see them meeting up at times, or some of the pairing up to gossip. But it never bothered her, because she was with Fred the entire time. His friends were with them too, she felt more free, as if she didn’t have to look over her shoulder to see if she was doing every single thing right. Her shoulders weren’t tensed, her posture was slightly slouched, and she could laugh and sing as loud as she wanted to.

“It was so hot in there.” (Y/N) breathed out as her and Fred left the ball.

“Bloody hell, that breeze is nice.” Fred said as he took off his bow tie.

Their arms were linked as they walked together, slowly traipsing down the halls. They got their breaths back before talking, letting the sweat on their skin dry. (Y/N)’s cheeks were aching from smiling so much. She glanced down to their arms, feeling confident and sliding her hand down to his, linking their fingers together. The pair caught each other’s eye, laughing at the gesture. They found a small, winding staircase to sit a the bottom of, knowing no one would be using them or passing by. They still held hands, leaning into one another.

“Tonight was...amazing.” (Y/N) beamed.

“I’m glad I could cheer you up.” Fred said.

“I’m glad I’m here for a while. It’s just that...” she ducked her head.

“What?”

“I don’t want to leave.”

Fred lowered his head to meet her gaze, tilting her face up to look at him. He tried to hide that his fingers were shaking.“Me neither.”

“I’ve had so much fun with you in the short amount of time we’ve had together. I feel like we’ve really got to know each other.”

“I think that limited time has made us realise we needed to....uh, we need to um-”

“Cherish our moments together?”

“That’s where I was headed, yeah.”

“How cliche.”

“Y-yeah. But, I don’t mind it.”

“No, I don’t. You know, you’re the first boy I’ve ever da-well, I’ve ever hanged out with.”

“Am I living up to your expectations?” Fred really wanted to know, he wasn’t just teasing her.

(Y/N) glanced down at their intertwined hands as she answered.“You’ve exceeded them.”

There was a few moments of silence before Fred spoke.“W-will you, uh, stand with me for the rest of the challenges? Just so we make the most of it?”

(Y/N) didn’t hesitate to answer.“Of course I will!”

Fred was dazzled by her smile. It made him feel happy, he loved being the reason behind it. His instincts took over as they gazed into each other’s eyes, leaning forward too fast as he went in to kiss her; their teeth hit, both yelping as they pulled away. Touching their lips, they checked for any damage before laughing.

“I really messed that up, didn’t I?” Fred admitted.

She shook her head.“You can try again.”

This time, Fred was more cautious. (Y/N) wished he didn’t take so long, though at the same time, she wanted to make sure she was prepared. They still held hands as their lips met, this time more softly before Fred added more pressure. (Y/N) refrained from smiling during the kiss, not wanting to buck teeth again, or bite his lip by accident. It was short, but neither wanted to point that out, worried that the other thought it was enough. However, as they pulled apart, Fred and (Y/N) realised they wanted more. It was sweet how they exchanged kisses, not talking for the next five minutes. This wasn’t what either had expected to occur during the strange and dangerous competition, although it certainly made things more interesting.

Although (Y/N) loved being beside Fred throughout the rest of her stay, helping him and George with their bets, the Triwizard Tournament ended terribly. The death of a young boy had happened and Voldemort was back. (Y/N) was relieved that Fleur was alive (and the others, she didn’t want anyone hurt), but found herself looking at the bigger picture. Fred had given her more joy than her friend did in a few weeks. She needed to stop feeling guilty, she needed to think what was good for herself.

“So, this is it then.” Fred sadly said as they stood in the courtyard with all the other students.

They held each other’s hands as they talked.“Yes. Oh, Fred I don’t want to go!”

She flung her arms around him, hugging him close. He immediately held her tighter.“Hey, we can write to each other. And we said about meeting in summer.”

“I know but-”

“Come on (Y/N)!” Fleur called, signalling that they had to go.

“Don’t worry. I’m never going to forget you. And I’ll write everyday.”

“Me too, Fred!”

Unlike most romantic flings, Fred and (Y/N) kept their word to each other. They wrote constantly, sending each other gifts, updating them about their days. When summer came, Fred was upset that (Y/N) couldn’t make it, though tried not to show his disappointment. It wasn’t her fault, there was a lot going on with her family, and he knew how important that was. Everyone noticed the slump he went into, he wasn’t in a mood all of the time, but there were moments they could see the sadness in his eyes.

Fred sighed as he followed the rest of his family into King’s Cross, preparing himself for another year of school. This was his last year, the really serious one. However, (Y/N) was still on his mind, especially because her letters hadn’t been as detailed as they usually were. He guessed she was also getting ready for her last year.

“Fred!”

He could have sworn he heard (Y/N)’s voice. He looked over his shoulder, still holding onto his trolley, his eyes widening when he saw who was running towards her.

(Y/N) wished her suitcases weren’t so heavy as she pushed it down the platform, her poor parents trying to keep up with her. Once close enough, she forgot about her belongings, so confident that she could just run up and kiss him...until she saw his family. Awkwardly halting, her and Fred chuckled to fill the silence, opting for a simple hug.

“What are you doing here?” Fred asked.

“I transferred here for my last year. I just felt like I should be with people I like and who will support me.”

“That’s amazing!”

“Sorry I didn’t tell you. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“It certainly is!”

“I don’t mean to spoil the moment love birds, but we’re going to miss the train at this rate.” George interrupted, a cheeky grin on his face.

Fred rolled his eyes.“He’s right, for once.”

“Come on then! I want you to take me all around Hogwarts once we get there!”

“Don’t you worry, I won’t be leaving your side for the rest of the year.”

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itsmattsunshinehere · 5 years

Note

So here goes nothing....😅😅😅 I have thought of a scenario where a student is studying marketing and has offered herself to promote karasuno's volleyball team. And as she is working with them she makes friendships and developed crushes and love and all that good stuff. With a lot of fluff please.♥️😋♥️ If u can't that's just fine still will love everything you put out your so talented and I love you♥️♥️♥️♥️

Okay so first IM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG PLEASE DONT HATE ME 😫😫

I had some difficulties writing it because I didn’t know if you wanted reader to come from Uni or simply Karasuno. You also talked about developing crushes and Im a fool for Daichi so yeah it turned out as a Daichi x reader lol But feel free to ask for another one if you don’t like it!! Thanks for your request, you’re so kind and honestly I think there are people here on Tumblr more talented than me but omg thank you I love you please let me know what you think!! 💘💘💘

-L

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

Sweet lovin’.

Sawamura Daichi x reader.

synopsis: just Daichi helping you open a letter from your University.

word count: 1.6 K

tags: fluff

~~~

"C’mon Y/N, open it!" the boy on your right encourages you.

You're a little anxious, your hands are shaking slightly while you carefully unlock your phone. You can't calm down: you know how important is that email, you've been waiting for two weeks now. You open the inbox, but immediately lock the screen, not feeling brave enough.

You knew that getting into the university you were aiming to wouldn't be that easy, so you immediately took as many courses you could to prepare for the various entrance tests you’d have to do. Even so, when you found out you had to bring a completely new and original project, (the promotion of a product completed with data and graphs concerning sales), you were quite surprised not expecting it and soon you started panicking as you saw the million challenges you’d have to face, not to mention all the pressure you felt: after all it was the task you would have to submit if you wanted to be admitted to the marketing courses in what could be your future University (if you made it).

You are resolute and organised, you’ve been making plans for your future since you were really young, thinking about what your job would be when you grow up. You've always liked to read and recommend books to your friends or parents, so you decided to work for a publisher and evaluate which manuscripts to publish and which to discard. But it is clear that to do such a job you also need to know how to sell a product: it is therefore essential for you a degree in Marketing and Communication. You had calculated everything, down to the smallest detail, and yet in front of that email just over two months ago you had trembled, finding yourself deadly worried. On the other hand you had never done anything like this, starting from scratch, without anyone’s help and that’s what was most likely to have determined your admission.

For days you were scrambled to come up with an idea that could represent you 100%, and then you found yourself one day in the school gym in front of the entire men's volleyball team, on the orange flyer in your hands it was written in capital letters "LOOKING FOR HELP FOR OUR MANAGERS."

"Help us grow! If you are interested, come look for us: Sawamura Daichi (3rd year, section 4); Shimizu Kiyoko (3rd year, section 2)."

You immediately saw the opportunity behind that simple piece of paper. You had found your "product" to advertise, it was the opportunity you were looking for and you could not let it got; that's why you let instinct take over you and you headed straight to the gym; you hadn't given it too much thought, knowing too well that if only you'd stopped for one more moment to reflect, you'd only come out with more doubts.

You were presented to your "project" and they had welcomed you with open arms, especially Nishinoya and Tanaka, happy to have more people in their big family and that could lighten the load of work for Kiyoko and Hitoka. Although at first you had no intention of becoming a manager of Karasuno, day by day you had bonded more and more with those guys, finding yourself one day crying in front of everyone because of how boded you were when Hinata gave you with a beaming smile the team uniform. You had learned to appreciate each one of them, everyone with their own special personality, trying to help them as best you could during their training: several times you happened to assist Kageyama and Hinata till late and help them improving their spikes, or healing the wounds and bruises that Noya got, not to mention all the afternoons spent trying to comfort Asahi, in an attempt to raise his self-esteem a little. Then along with Hitoka and Kiyoko you draw posters and opened a fund for the team, you created a page on Facebook by posting constant updates, just as you had created a Twitter profile where only the three of you, Daichi, Suga and Professor Takeda had the access (coach Ukai refused to take part in something that complicated). You saw how slowly your crows got up again attracting more and more attention, just as you had seen your project take shape and come true.

After about a month of joining the team, you had taken the train to Tokyo along with the three third year and Kiyoko, who had decided to come with you to bring all the necessary documents for the application and the eventual registration. Careless as you are, you would surely have got lost, that's why Suga asked you if he could join you and after hearing him, the others had also offered to keep you company along the way.

Finally, another email had arrived on your phone: for three days you did not even look at your inbox, too scared to find out that you had been refused. Not to mention that of all the possible days Suga, being aware of your crush on the captain, had decided that today was the best day to give his contribution and leave you alone with Daichi to tidy the gym putting the last things in place, hoping that you will muster up courage to take the first step and confess. It’s obvious saying that his hopes are unfortunately misplaced.

Daichi, being the kind person he is, seeing you more nervous than usual asks you if you had heard from the University and suddenly you turn pale, telling him all your concerns.

"Good heavens Daichi, I can't do it, please look instead!" you beg the boy by your side. You have the feeling that, if it’s him the one who's telling you you've failed, it's going to hurt less than reading it with your own eyes. The captain picks up your phone with one hand and yours with other, making you blush instantly.

You don't know how or when you started having feelings for him, you only know that at some point you started paying a lot more attention to what he told you and noticing all the details of his face: how he purse his lips when he scores a point, how he snaps his tongue with frustration when during training he fails to serve or receiving Asahi’s services. Of course, you immediately tried to hide it all, choosing to focus on the first years and prevent Tsukishima and Kageyama from biting each other’s face off.

"You have to tell me the passcode, Y/N." he replies with a chuckle, trying to calm you down by caressing your hand in circular movements, causing the opposite effect.

You feel your heart beating wildly, you're not used to having so much skinship between you two, neither being so close with him. Of course, it had happened other times that accidentally in removing the net he touched your hand, but you always tried to pretend as if nothing happened, obviously failing: Tsukishima and Sugawara immediately understood that you had feelings for him, as well as Kiyoko, who immediately encouraged you along with the setter.

You give him the password and watch him carefully swipe his fingers across the screen, opening the inbox and reading the email carefully. After what seems like centuries, he rolls his eyes towards you and with a smile he turns your phone towards you. You rip it out of his hands and read until you find the magic word: ACCEPTED.

"You made it Y/N, you got accepted." He congratulates you and, in a moment of pure euphoria, you throw your arms around his neck, clutching him as tightly as you can as he bursts out laughing and hugs you back.

You feel so comfortable in his muscular arms, you feel warm, feeling almost as if you were home. You would never want to move away, but after a few seconds you two separate, you redder than ever, while he looks at you, smiling, holding once again your hand with his and you look down on the ground regretting being so careless.

"Sorry, I didn't want to jump on-" You interrupt as soon as Daichi raises your chin and brings your face close to his, looking into your eyes, his lips brushing yours, softly, delicately, kindly, almost as if he's afraid of breaking you.

When you separate you look at him surprised, with your mouth agape, unable to say anything, because DAICHI JUST KISSED YOU. You are speechless, trying to understand that what just happened is not a mere dream. The boy meanwhile waits for your reaction, but seeing that you are still silent he lets out a laugh, rather embarrassed by all that courage he showed you just now.

"I'm sorry Y/N, I don't know what’s gotten into me. I'm sorry I should have told you first, but you know I like you so much that seeing you-" he tries to explain you, but you interrupt him right away.

"You what?!" you ask him, your eyes wide open, as he looks at you even more nervous than before, he just wants to sink and disappear sucked into the ground.

“Yes, I've liked you for a while, I thought I'd tell you one of these days. I thought it was pretty obvious..." He tells you, scratching the back of his neck with one hand. You suddenly take the other hand.

“I like you too!" you say with a smile. You remind him so much of a little girl who just got the gift she wanted for her birthday. He can't help bursting out laughing again seeing your happy eyes, wrapping you again with those arms you love so much.

“That’s good, you know? I was dying of shame." He whispers sweetly in your ear, while you smile, letting yourself sink in the warmth of his embrace, chuckling back.

#anime #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haiky?!!#daichi x reader #hq daichi #daichi #daichi sawamura #daichi sawamura x reader #karasuno x reader #karasuno #karasuno daichi

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just-my-sickly-pride · 5 years

Text

Debut || Roger Taylor x fem!Reader

summary || you’re twenty years old, a full-time uni student, and you’re living out of home. money is tight. so, naturally, you decide to sell your virginity to the highest bidder. when you get an offer from some guy in his mid-thirties, you put on your nicest dress and head on over. but there’s a problem: he has no idea who you are, or why you’ve turned up at his house at nine o’clock at night. maybe things aren’t going to be as simple as you’d hoped. modern day au.

rating || explicit, with fluff dotted throughout. 18+ only. do not read if you are under eighteen. the age gap between reader and roger is sixteen years.

word count || about 17.7k.

author’s notes || welcome one and all to my very first fic on this blog! i pictured roger circa ‘85 (specifically live aid) for this fic. this fic is also dedicated to my friend and fellow mid-thirties-Roger enthusiast Jennifer @mrfahrenhcit (i couldn’t find a way to work in everything you asked, but i’ve saved some of them for the next roger fic that’s in the works). fun fact: this is the first reader fic where i’ve used ‘Y/N’. some people have said they’d had issues with this post being extremely slow to load, or the app has crashed - i think it’s just bc it’s so long, and i apologise for the inconvenience. [i am a proud member of the anti-cross-tagging club.]

masterlist

You don’t think you’ve ever felt more nervous before in your entire life. You’ve wiped your sweaty palms on your dress ten times in the past two minutes, and your heart hasn’t stopped racing from the moment you woke up this morning.

What are you doing? Seriously, what the fuck are you doing?

Well, that’s the thing. You know exactly what the fuck you’re doing.

You aren’t doing it out of embarrassment, or anything to do with pride. You don’t feel pressured, not by anyone, not even by society, fuck society, but you saw some dumb article about it – it was hardly even an article, just gossip – and it gave you the idea, and then you were doing some research about it, just for the money, it’s just for the money, you’ve been living out of home for two years now and life’s still kicking you in the ass, so why wouldn’t you do it for money, if you could? And you can. So you went onto some website and snooped around to check for at least some sign of legitimacy, and then, well, you were making an account, and you made an account, and uploaded some photos that you never thought you’d upload to the Internet, and, a couple weeks later, you found out that someone had chosen you. Chosen you.

And now here you are.

On your way to a strange man’s house.

To lose your virginity to him.

Because he’s paid for it.

Well, he’s paid half. The other half comes… after.

And you’re not nervous about the actual sex part, you suppose, but more about the fact that you’re going to a stranger’s house for sex. Does that make you a sex worker? Could you call someone who played guitar in one gig and got paid for it, but never got paid for it again, a musician?

Probably. But maybe that isn’t the best comparison.

You don’t know much about this guy. Just his address, his name, his age – thirty-six, could be worse, to be fair – and that he’s obviously got plenty of cash to spare. And he’s definitely not the sort of guy you want to have around. Seeing as, y’know, he’s paid a twenty-year-old virgin to have sex with him.

The Uber pulls up to a stop in front of a house. It’s dark outside, almost nine in the evening, so the house is hard to make out, but it’s quite a nice place, very white-picket-fence. Something out of a magazine catalogue about the suburbs. You thank your Uber driver and grab your oversized handbag, climbing out of the car.

You close the door behind you.

The Uber drives off.

And you’re alone on the sidewalk.

You hoist the handbag onto your shoulder. It’s got a couple of things you think you’ll need – condoms, lube, two change of clothes depending on what this guy is after. You think you look more than nice enough in your heels and tight, black dress, but just in case.

You glance at your phone, double-checking the address. You send a quick message to your best friend Justine: at the house. will keep u updated.

She’s the only one who knows; and she only knows because you figured that at least someone should know, if something goes wrong.

Good God, you’re hoping nothing goes wrong. Not in that way. Not in any way, really.

And again, you’re back to asking yourself what the fuck you’re doing.

You take a deep breath, and start heading up the front path.

Your hands are shaking by the time you reach the front step, but you force yourself to raise a fist and rap your knuckles on the door. The automatic porch light is yellow, and you can’t help but feel irked by how unflattering it is.

You can hear movement inside the house. A part of you is searching for the sound of kids, although God forbid there’s any to be heard. But a guy like this… Well, your first conclusion is that he’s looking for an affair.

You really don’t want to be some kind of mistress. But, you suppose, this is really just a business transaction, so you’re free of at least most of the guilt, right? All of it, if you actually have no idea if he’s married.

Please don’t mention your wife, you pray. Don’t implicate me or whatever.

Finally, the door opens, and you feel like you’re about to throw up your heart onto your feet. But you push it down, and drink in the man in front of you.

If you weren’t sure before if he was a dad, now it’s unmistakable. He’s slim, and reasonably tall – not remarkably so, but still tall – and he’s dressed in loose jeans and a blue flannel that he has rolled up to his elbows. His hair is blond, sort of shaggy, sort of spiky, like he spends his time running his hands through it. You idly wonder what it’d feel like in your hands. Guess you’ll find out soon enough.

But the thing that really knocks your socks off is the big blue eyes that blink at you, framed by eyelashes that you’d kill to have yourself. Those eyes flash down to your outfit, and then back up at your face.

Okay. Maybe this whole thing won’t be that bad at all.

You give him your most winning smile. “Hi,” you say in a way that you hope is both alluring and professional.

He blinks at you again. “Hi,” he says, his eyes wide. His gaze flits up and down your body, like he’s trying to compute what he’s seeing in front of him. “Um, hello. What, uh– Can I help you?”

His voice is soft, softer than you were expecting. Gentle, almost.

You lick your lips and shift your feet. “I’m, ah, Mandy. Are you Roger? Taylor?” Your name is fake, of course. You’re not sure about his. Not that it matters.

“Yes, that’s me,” Roger says. He scratches the back of his head. “Uh, I’m sorry, you’re, um, lovely, but I don’t think I know you.”

Huh. Odd. Is this a foreplay thing? “We have an appointment. You booked me two weeks ago, and you gave me this date and this time,” you prompt unsurely.

Roger’s brow crumples. “An… appointment?”

You feel your face starting to heat up. You almost ask if you have the right address, but no, you already know that he’s Roger Taylor, he’s the one who booked, so you must have it right. “Yeah,” you say. “You, um…” You lower your voice a touch. “You already paid in advance. This is pretty much a done deal, but I’m just here to fulfil my end of the bargain. And then, of course, you’ll have to pay me the other half.”

Roger’s starting to look a little pale now, and you’re not quite sure what to do with that. His eyes dart down to your outfit and back up to your face. “Pay you?” he says. “I’ve– what? I’ve paid you? What did I pay you? When?”

Now you’re both embarrassed, and confused, and well, this isn’t something you’d pictured going wrong.

You suddenly feel very exposed in your tight dress and heels.

“Uh.” You scratch behind your ear. “Like, I don’t know what to tell you. You’ve booked me, and I’m here. And it wasn’t a small sum of money, so I doubt you’d want to…”

Roger’s mouth opens, and then closes, and opens again. “Oh, shit, hang on,” he says, his voice flat, “did I… Was this all booked and arranged two weeks ago on the Friday night?”

“Yes,” you say. “Why?”

Roger sighs heavily, and rubs his eyes. “Oh, shit,” he moans. “For God’s…” He raises his head, and sighs again. “Look, um, Mandy, there’s been a big misunderstanding. I, um, went through a divorce, er, relatively recently, a few months ago, and I’ve been doing a bit of wallowing, I guess you could say, and my friends tried to cheer me up a fortnight ago on Friday by bringing round a few bottles of very nice whiskey and gin. I don’t remember a lot of that night, but, now that you mention it, I have some vague memory of my friends trying to get me to, you know, ‘move on’, and, um, I think they might have looked up… people online.”

Your ears are really burning now. “Oh,” you say.

“That’s what this is, isn’t it?” Roger adds. “You’re a…”

“Not really,” you blurt. “Kind of. It– oh, man.” You bite your bottom lip, hesitating, not quite sure how much to reveal about the situation. “Okay, I’ll be honest. Yes, I’m… from a website. But I’m not – this isn’t a living, or a side gig, or whatever. Not that it would matter if I was, because there’s nothing wrong with…” You shake your head. Stay on track. “It’s just a one-off. You paid me to… to take my virginity.”

You swear you can see Roger’s soul leaving his body in that moment. “You– I what?”

You shrug helplessly.

Roger takes a step back, pressing a hand to his forehead. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters. “Jesus Christ.”

“I’m sorry for the confusion,” you say, and your stomach sinks further when a realisation comes to you. “I…” You swallow. Your mouth is dry. “I’m really sorry, but I can’t – The money you gave me. I’ve done this to help pay bills and rent and everything, and it’s already been used. A chunk of it, anyway. I can’t refund you. I’m really sorry.”

“No, God, don’t apologise,” Roger says. “You weren’t to know.” He shakes his head. “Fucking dickheads, the lot of them.” He looks to you, and warily inspects your face. “How old did you say you were?” His voice is small, like he’s scared of the answer.

“Twenty,” you reply, and his shoulders sag in relief.

“Thank God,” he says. “I mean, still, you’re so young, but at least you’re…”

“An adult?”

He nods, grimacing sheepishly. “I really am being honest when I say I don’t remember much of that night. My mates aren’t those sorts of people, but, well, who knows what they’d try to pull when they’re pissed.”

“No, it’s fine,” you say. “I look young for my age. But I am twenty.”

“No, I believe you,” Roger says quickly. “I’m not… No.”

You wipe your palms on your dress again. What now? Do you just go home? That wasn’t the cheapest Uber ride you’ve ever had. You were kind of relying on that extra money.

Roger seems equally at loss. “You– Did you have to travel far?”

“Not that far,” you say. “Forty minutes-ish.”

“Fuck,” Roger says. He puts his hands on his hips, and then drops them again. “What time is it? It’s nearly nine, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, about nine.”

“It’s late. You should be getting home.”

Your heart sinks. Wow. Okay. This is really just over like that. “Um, yeah, I guess,” you say. You take half a step back. “I’m really sorry about the– the, um, whole mix-up thing. And sorry about your divorce.”

Great. Real smooth.

“Thanks,” Roger says. He hesitates, and you’re about to turn and head back down the driveway, when he says, “How are you getting home? Did you drive?”

“Uh, no,” you say. “Uber.”

“Uber? God, no, sod that,” Roger says. “Let me…” He fumbles for something in his back pocket, but comes up empty. “Let me pay for it. I don’t– Can I pay you for it?”

“It’s all right,” you reassure him. “You’ve already given me– it’s okay.”

“No, please, I insist,” he says. “Should I– cash? I can give you cash. Or… transfer…” He rolls his eyes at himself, those pretty blue eyes that shouldn’t belong to a man his age, but somehow suit him perfectly. “God,” he mutters. “I usually have things more together than this, I promise. I’ve just been caught beyond off-guard.”

“Sorry,” you say again.

“It’s not your fault, really, I don’t– How could I blame you? You had no idea. I am going to murder my friends.” He sighs, rubbing his temple. “Um. Okay. I’ve paid you before, haven’t I, if you got the deposit? How did I do it? I can just do it that way again.”

“You transferred it to me,” you say. You shift in your heels. Your feet are starting to ache.

“Let’s do it that way again, then,” Roger says. “I’ll just get my phone, sorry.”

“It’s okay, really,” you say yet again, stopping him. “Don’t bother. I’ll– It’ll take me two minutes and then I can be on my way home.”

Roger hovers, and then says, “Can I– Did you want to wait inside? Or out on the steps? Could I get you some water, at least?”

You hesitate. “Um–”

“I’m not trying to do anything,” Roger blurts, and then he shakes his head. “Now it sounds like I am trying to do something. I’m not. Really. If you want, you can just wait here and I’ll go inside and leave you alone.”

You glance at your phone. You haven’t ordered the Uber yet, but you are pretty thirsty. You look back up to Roger. “Well, I already had it in my head that I was coming here to sleep with you, so I’m not really concerned about you trying anything,” you say. “Some water sounds nice, actually.”

Roger laughs. Like his voice, it’s unexpectedly soft, and it makes you smile.

“Um. Yes,” he says, glancing at his feet. “Well. Um, come on in, then.”

You head back up the path, and Roger steps aside to let you in.

You slip past him. He smells good.

His house, on the inside, is just as white-picket-fence as it is on the outside. Not the tidiest, but you suppose he wasn’t expecting company.

He seems to notice the slight mess the same moment you do, and he hurriedly darts forward to tidy up.

“Sorry,” he says.

“No, don’t worry about it,” you say.

He bends down to grab an empty beer bottle from where it sits on the floor next to the couch. Nice ass.

Not that it matters. You aren’t sleeping with him anymore. But, to be fair, you are only human. Just because you’re no longer ordering doesn’t mean you can’t admire the menu.

“I, uh, wasn’t expecting any guests, obviously,” Roger adds, half-jokingly.

You chuckle, and adjust your dress. Roger’s eyes flash down to your hands, then to your chest where you’ve pulled the dress down a little further in your adjustment, and then he quickly looks away, running his hand along his jaw.

“Uh, um,” he says. “Water? Um– take a seat, by the way. Feel free to sit…” He gestures vaguely around him. “Sit anywhere. Anywhere you like.”

“Um, okay,” you say, and hesitate, before awkwardly perching on his couch.

“Sorry, did you say you wanted water?” Roger says.

“If you wouldn’t mind,” you say.

“Yeah, of course,” Roger says, and then disappears into the kitchen.

You breathe in a lungful of air and slowly let it out. Wow. Talk about an unexpected evening.

You take out your phone and message Justine. boy do I have a story to tell u.

She’s online, and she replies immediately. fuck what’s happened?? everything alright??

You bite your lip, considering how to reply. yeah I’m fine. the guy is super easy on the eyes, but there’s been a mix up and basically I am remaining firmly in the virgin zone for the foreseeable future lol.

You backspace and try again. yeah I’m fine. long story short I’m coming home. tell u about it when I get there.

is he ugly?? Justine replies, and you can’t help but smile in amusement.

oh no, that’s not the issue even a little bit, you reply.

“I’m assuming tap water is fine?” Roger says, reappearing with a glass of water, making you jump slightly and flip your phone face-down on your leg, as if he could somehow see the screen from across the room. “Sorry, I should’ve asked. I don’t really have anything else.”

“No, no, tap water is fine, thank you,” you say, and he hands the glass to you.

You take a sip.

Roger glances away, seemingly looking for something to do or something to say, as if the answer is written in the walls. He chews on his thumbnail.

Your mind scrambles to find something to say, but it feels like trying to eat soup with a fork.

“Is everything all right?” Roger asks suddenly, looking to you. “I know this is probably completely inappropriate, but… Well, paying for someone to…”

Your stomach sinks with embarrassment. “Oh,” you say. “Um. Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine. Just – could do with the money.”

“Of course, yeah,” Roger says hurriedly, nodding. “You’re at uni?”

“Yeah. And living out of home, so.”

“Right. Yeah, of course, I should’ve guessed. Sorry, that was…”

“No, it’s fine,” you say with a reassuring smile. You chuckle. “I’m sorry for disrupting your evening like this.”

“No, no, it…” Roger smiles, and you feel every trace of oxygen leave your lungs, because wow, he’s attractive. “It’s a welcomed interruption, actually.”

“It is?”

“Well, all I had planned was to watch something shit on Netflix and drink beer,” Roger says, screwing up his nose. “Not exactly exciting.”

“Oh, don’t let me stop you,” you say. “Sounds like they were big plans.”

Roger laughs, and your heart thuds against your ribcage. “The sort of plans that sound much nicer when you have company, I think.” He pauses. “Not that– not that I’m expecting you to–” He sighs, running a hand through his hair, making it stick up. “I’m sorry,” he says. “Really, I’m not usually this… awkward.”

“You don’t have to apologise,” you say, shaking your head.

“I used to be a real ladies’ man, you know,” Roger says. “Back in the day. Before my wi– my ex-wife. And the kids.”

“Sure,” you say, drawling sarcastically.

Roger laughs again, a little surprised, but amused. “I was!” he insists. “I was picking up women left and right.”

“I believe you,” you say lightly.

Roger grins, and you have to take a steadying breath. “You’ve got a tongue on you, haven’t you?” he says delightedly.

“So it’s been said.”

It comes out more suggestive than you’d intended. Roger takes a moment to drink you in, and then he bites his bottom lip, looking away, one hand sliding into the back pocket of his jeans, the other one slipping under his shirt, massaging his shoulder.

Your stomach flips and jumps. You take a sip of water.

“You sure you’ve never been with anyone before?” Roger says.

You snort. “That’s a pretty rude question, don’t you think?”

Roger smiles sheepishly. “You’re right. Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

You take another sip of water, and then say, “I haven’t slept with anyone, no. I think I’d know if I had.”

“Right,” Roger says mildly, nodding.

You narrow your eyes at him. “What?”

“Nothing, I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re thinking very loudly. Is there something wrong with me not having slept with anyone?”

“No,” Roger says, his eyes widening. “No, shit, that’s not what I was trying to say. It– you just seem… I’m just surprised. That someone like you…”

You adjust your dress again. Roger’s eyes drop to your breasts again, and back up to your face. “What do you mean by that?” you ask, trying not to preen.

Roger ponders over his answer for a while. “You just seem to… know what you want.”

“Oh, you think so?”

“Yeah,” Roger says noncommittally.

His eyes find yours, and they stay there. Your heart is racing in your chest now, making your blood feel warm. You’ve been attracted to plenty of people before, but this is really something else.

Roger clears his throat, breaking away, and you surreptitiously squeeze your thighs together.

Your phone buzzes on your thigh. It’s Justine. so he’s hot?

“Is that your Uber?” Roger asks. If you aren’t mistaken, he sounds almost disappointed.

Your cheeks grow hot. “Oh, um, I haven’t actually… I forgot to call it.”

“Oh,” Roger says. A tinge of relief? “Well, no rush.”

“It’s just my friend checking up on me,” you add.

“That’s good of them.”

“Yeah. Well, actually, she was checking up on me before. Now she’s just–” You open and close your mouth a few times, but decide to be honest. “Uh, she’s just, um, asking about you.”

Roger quirks an eyebrow, and it’s so hot that you have to look away. “About me?”

Your phone buzzes again. are you on ur way home now?

“Uh,” you say, and quickly type out, not yet.

“What have you told her?” Roger asks, playfully curious.

You put your phone down, and take a breath, smoothing your hands down your legs, thinking carefully of how to answer. “Just that you seem nice.”

“Nice?” Roger says.

“And you’re… Well.” You smirk. “I’m sure you’ve seen yourself in the mirror. No point in boosting your ego too much.”

Roger steps forward, drawn to you by an invisible string. “I don’t think I understand,” he says faux-innocently.

“I’m sorry, weren’t you just saying a minute ago that you were pulling girls left and right?” you say, cocking your head.

“Oh, yeah, when I was twenty,” Roger says. “Not talking about now.”

“Have you tried?”

Roger pauses, slightly taken aback by this, and his eyes roll to the ceiling as he thinks, blowing hair out of his cheeks. “You may have a point there.”

“And I suppose that’s why these friends of yours contacted me?”

“You… may have a point there,” Roger says again.

You nod to yourself. “I don’t see why they couldn’t have just taken you to a pub and set you up with someone there. It’d have been a lot cheaper.”

“They’ve, um…” Roger cards his hand through his hair. “They’ve tried that, actually.” He hesitates, and then walks over to you, sitting down on the armchair near you. “They’ve taken me out a couple of times.”

“And you’ve struck out?” you ask.

Roger chuckles. “No. I – well, like you said, I suppose I haven’t really tried. I didn’t want to.”

“Too soon?”

“No, it’s not that. It’s…” Roger pulls a face. “I don’t know. Haven’t felt like it, really. Maybe it was too soon. Or maybe the thought of having to try to chat someone up just seemed like so much effort.”

“Surely it wouldn’t be much effort for you.”

Roger meets your eyes again, and he smiles slowly, running his tongue along his teeth. “Oh yeah?”

Your phone vibrates. The way Roger’s looking at you makes you wish it was something else vibrating that you could put to good use alone in your room.

Roger’s eyes flick down to the phone, and back up to your face. “That your friend again?”

You hesitate, and then flip the phone over. hellooooo????? wtf is going on????

“Yeah,” you say, and put the phone down beside you.

“You going to answer it?”

“In a minute.”

You smooth your hands down your thighs. Roger watches like a hawk.

Your hands slide back up your thighs.

He swallows.

You smile.

“You, um, you ever…” Roger tears his eyes away from your thighs to look at your face. “Have– have you ever had a boyfriend? Or girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” you say casually. “Not for a long while, though. And nothing too serious. Nothing as full-on as marriage.”

Roger laughs, but it comes out sounding a bit strangled. “Yeah. That’s all right, though. That doesn’t matter.”

Your phone buzzes.

You ignore it.

“I never got around to… all of that,” you explain. “Y’know. Fucking.”

Roger’s face goes slack. “Uh–”

“I wasn’t waiting for anyone special,” you continue. Your blood feels electrified under his gaze. “Just never quite got there.”

“Never quite–?”

You hum. “That’s misleading. I’ve made out with plenty of people, but that’s all. Some over-the-clothes action. Basically nothing, really.”

Roger looks like he’s struggling to breathe. “Uh-huh.”

“You probably find that hard to imagine,” you say with a wry smile. “Having kids and all. How old were you your first time?”

Roger blinks, and takes a moment to reply. “Uh, I was sixteen.”

You laugh. “God, I can’t even picture…” You frown, and shake your head. “It’s hard to picture what it’d be like, you know? The reality of it? You can watch as much porn as you like – and I’ve watched plenty, mind you – but, like, I know that it’s not real. Not realistic, anyway. I’ve spent what feels like ages just trying to picture what is actually is like, but it’s impossible for me to know.”

“It’s good,” Roger says, and it comes out in a rush, and he looks surprised at himself.

You feel a thrill go through you. “Good?”

“Yeah,” Roger says. “Everyone says your first time isn’t good, but that’s only if your partner doesn’t know what they’re doing. And it’s nice when you have an idea of what you’re doing, too, but that comes with time. And if you have a good teacher.” He rakes his hand through his hair again. “But when the chemistry is right, and the mood is right, it’s… good.”

“That’s descriptive,” you murmur sarcastically.

Roger huffs a laugh. “What do you want, a detailed explanation? Graphs and illustrations?”

“A demonstration would be nice.”

Shit. Oh, shit. Shit shit shit. Why the fuck did you say that?

Your eyes are wide, and you open and close your mouth a few times. “Uh.” Roger looks as surprised as you feel. “Oh,” he says. “Um. Wow. Is– is this part of the…”

You blink. “Part of the…?”

“The whole…” He gestures vaguely. “…thing. You being paid to…”

“Did I just make a complete idiot of myself as part of my attempt to woo you as a kind-of sex worker?” you ask. You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “Nope. No. That was all me. Just being a dumbass.” You groan, covering your face. “I’m sorry,” you say from behind your hands. “This is so embarrassing.” This whole night has been nothing but a huge embarrassment. You can’t wait to go home and forget about it, thanks to an unhealthy dose of alcohol.

“I’m sorry,” Roger says.

You lower your hands. “For what?”

“For – I don’t know. I just felt I needed to apologise.”

You snort. “You don’t have to apologise for me very clumsily and awkwardly and horribly trying to flirt with you, Roger.” You roll your eyes at yourself. “You’re probably used to seeing that all the time.”

“Again, not for a very long time,” Roger says. “But I know what horrible and awkward flirting looks like, and… that wasn’t it.”

“But clumsy, though, right?” you say, screwing up your nose.

Roger chuckles. “Maybe. But that’s all right.” He shifts in his seat. “I was just as clumsy.”

You wave a hand, and reach for your phone. It’s high time you called your Uber. And reply to Justine. “You weren’t flirting with me.”

You re-read the messages from Justine you’re yet to reply to.

so hes hot?

are you on ur way home now?

hellooooo????? wtf is going on????

Then the new one, from a few minutes ago: for the love of god can u please reply to me. something. anything. I’ll take a solid thumbs-up.

So you send a thumbs-up.

When you look up, Roger is staring at you, and you realise he hasn’t spoken since you did.

You’ve well and truly crossed a line somewhere. You can’t blame him for wanting you out. “I’m sorry,” you say. “I’m just – my friend. I’ll get the Uber now. Sorry it’s taken me so long.”

“Don’t,” Roger says.

You pause. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t order the Uber.”

Your stomach bubbles. “Wh– No?”

“Not yet, at least,” Roger says. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You think I wasn’t flirting with you?”

“Why would you be?” you respond automatically.

“Why would…” Roger shakes his head. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because I’m a random twenty-year-old woman who’s just shown up at your door on a Tuesday night dressed like this talking about how you paid to take my virginity,” you say bluntly. “Which is more than a little off-putting.”

“Well, all right, I’ll give you that,” Roger says. “But here I am, still trying to clumsily flirt with you nonetheless.”

You break out into a smile, a bashful one, and duck your head. “Oh.”

“Oh,” Roger repeats, a touch playfully.

You glance up at him. He’s smiling at you, pleased with your reaction, and the thought of kissing him flashes through your mind, and you’ve suddenly never wanted anything more. You purse your lips, looking at your hands again, fiddling with your phone, flipping it around and around in your grip.

“Mandy,” he says gently, and you’re puzzled for a moment before you remember –

“That’s, um, not my real name,” you tell him with an awkward chuckle. But you really like how he said it all the same.

Roger looks so embarrassed that you can’t help but laugh. “Here I was, trying to be all suave, and now I look like an idiot,” he says.

You shake your head. “You don’t. You didn’t know.”

“I should’ve guessed you weren’t using your real name.”

“No, it’s fine,” you giggle.

“Well, am I allowed to know your real name? So I can try again?”

You hesitate.

“Unless you don’t want to,” Roger says quickly. “That’s fine. Security, and all. Stranger danger.”

You laugh again. “Stranger danger? I’m in your house.”

“I could be a stalker. You don’t know that.”

Fuck, you’re attracted to him. “Dork,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

Roger chuckles, his eyes sparkling.

“It’s [Y/N],” you add.

“[Y/N],” he repeats, and your breath catches ever so slightly. He pauses, and then comes to sit beside you on the couch, and holds out his hand. “Nice to meet you, [Y/N],” he says. “I’m Roger.”

You giggle, and take his hand, shaking it. “Nice to meet you, Roger.”

He’s so close now. He smells amazing, and his hand is warm, and his eyes are so blue, and his lips–

You realise you’ve been staring at his mouth, your hand still in his, and you glance back up at his eyes before quickly taking your hand back, looking away.

You tuck your hair behind your ear, clearing your throat. You’re barely aware of your own body – only his, and how close it is to yours. Like there’s a force between the two of you, connecting you. When he swallows and moves his hand back to his own lap, you can feel it as if it’s your own.

“Do you, um…” Roger takes a breath in, and you feel your chest, your lungs, buzz. “Tell me about yourself a bit.”

“Me?” you say, looking to him. Oh, wow, he really is close. Fucking hell, you want him.

“Yeah,” he says, smiling. “What do you do for fun? Stuff like that?”

You lick your lips, and his eyes dart to the movement. “Um, well, I…” You absentmindedly adjust your dress, and it catches his eye again. “I’m at uni, in my second year. It’s all right. Pretty stressful, obviously, but I like it well enough. I live with two of my friends. I, um… I like… dogs.”

Roger laughs.

This is so stupid, you realise. You both clearly want each other.

You shake your head. “Stupid,” you mutter.

Roger frowns. “What’s stupid?”

“This,” you say. You gesture between the two of you for emphasis. “This.”

“Oh,” Roger says. He shifts away from you. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

You huff. “You’re not.”

“Then what–”

“Kiss me,” you cut in.

Roger stops. “Kiss you?”

“Yes,” you say, keeping your gaze steady on his. “You’re too damn difficult to resist. So kiss me.”

Roger hesitates.

You raise your eyebrows. “Unless you don’t want to?”

“No, I – I do,” he says. “I just…”

“What?”

“I feel like the circumstances… I don’t want you to think I’m just doing this because I’ve paid you to…”

“I don’t think that,” you say. “And I don’t want your money; this is way beyond that now. I’m not trying to trick you into sleeping with me so I can force you to pay me. I just know chemistry when I see it.”

Roger chuckles. “I was right,” he says. “You know exactly what you want.”

You steel your nerves. “Yeah,” you say with a shrug of your shoulders. “And I want you.”

Roger swallows. “But you don’t even know me.”

“Nope.”

“And you’re in my house.”

“Yep.”

“And I’m so much older than you.”

“That’s right.”

“And you’re…”

“I’m a virgin,” you finish, nodding. “I know. But for the love of God, Roger, if you don’t kiss me right now, I’m going to scream.”

Roger exhales, shakes his head minutely, and then says, “God fucking damn it,” and leans in to kiss you.

You immediately shift to press closer towards him, one hand coming to rest against his chest. He kisses you earnestly, but gently, like he’s nervous. Nervous about making you feel pressured, you can safely assume.

But that’s not what you’re about. You pull back, and, before he can say anything, you climb on top of him, straddling his waist, and kiss him again, more deeply than before. He breaks away just far enough to whisper, “Holy shit,” and then ducks his head to kiss down your throat. You tilt your head to give him more room, one hand against his chest and the other raking through his hair. His hands, rough and warm, smooth up your thighs, and your breath catches. They stop just under the hem of the dress, and a soft whine slips from your throat.

Roger moans in response. “Jesus Christ.”

You reach down and grab at his wrists, urging his hands to go further up the dress. “Touch me,” you pant.

He draws back, and you look down at him, at his slightly flushed cheeks and his ruffled hair, and you want him naked, right now. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything you don’t want to,” he says. “We can just make out, that’s absolutely fine. Just because of… the whole… arrangement…”

“Roger,” you say slowly, “I’m only going to say this once, because I don’t want to have to repeat myself.”

He nods, swallowing.

You cup his face in your hands, boring your eyes into his. “I want you to fuck me. Tonight. Right now.”

Roger takes a shaky breath. “Are you–”

“What did I just say?” you cut in. “Not repeating it.”

Roger smiles, laughing breathlessly. “Bloody hell.”

You smirk. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Oh, it most certainly is one, believe me.”

You lean in to kiss him, and his hands, thank the Lord, slide further up your thighs. You start unbuttoning his shirt, blindly, fumbling a little, and your kisses grow more eager.

You’ve kissed a number of people in your time. Not a whole lot, but a few. And Roger really takes the damn cake.

When his shirt is fully unbuttoned, untucked from his jeans, you move your lips down his neck, and he moans, letting his head roll back, his hands shifting to grab your ass, pulling you against him. You can feel the tent in his jeans, and, beyond thrilled, you grind against it, loving how a bolt of arousal shoots through you. Roger’s grip on you tightens, and when you nip at his skin, he spits out, “Fuck.”

You rock your hips against him again, and he laughs again. “God, it’s been too long.”

You hum, nipping his throat again and soothing it with your tongue. “How long is too long?”

“Months. Lost count. Ah, fuck.”

You pull back, giving him a look, and he lifts his head to meet your eyes. “Try twenty years,” you say dryly.

Roger shakes his head. “Can’t even imagine.” He kisses you, just once, and then murmurs against your lips, “I promise I’ll make this good for you.”

You shiver. “I’m sure you will.”

“I mean it.” He kisses you again, and then sits back, his hands sliding back to your thighs and squeezing them gently. “I want this to be good for you. If I’m going to be your first, I want you to enjoy it. So you have to tell me if I’m doing something you don’t like, yeah?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

“I don’t care what it is we’re doing – you can tell me to stop at literally any point, and I will, no questions asked.”

You nod. “I know, I know.”

Roger chuckles. “You just really want to get things going, don’t you?”

“Yes.” You press your lips to his, and, now that you both know where things lie between you, you’re both eager to get to the next step. The kisses quickly become more feverish, hotter, deeper. Roger’s hands go to the back of your dress, working the zipper down your spine, and you shudder at the feeling of it. When he’s done, you sit back to yank it over your head, dropping it the floor behind you.

Roger’s eyes drink you in, his mouth hanging open. “Whoa.”

You flush under his gaze. You know you look good – you’d worn your push-up bra and matching lace underwear for a reason – but it’s still a rush to get a reaction like that.

“Bedroom?” Roger says, his voice a touch weak, and you nod, leaning in to steal one last kiss before climbing off him, taking his hand and pulling him to his feet. He groans slightly as he does so, and you giggle.

“I know, I know, I’m old,” he says.

“No, I like it,” you say, tugging him closer to you and hooking a finger of your other hand through a belt loop on his jeans. “Dad noises.”

Roger shakes his head, his hands coming to rest on your waist, and you lean into the touch. “Don’t say that,” he grumbles. “Makes me feel even older.”

“You’re not old,” you say, rolling your eyes. “You’re not even forty.”

Roger laughs. “Ah, yes, a real spring chicken.”

“Can you stop whining and fuck me already? I’m gonna be forty by the time we get to it.”

Roger snorts. “Cheeky.” He leans in to kiss you, and you curl your arms around his neck, pressing into him.

When you break apart, you take Roger’s hand again, and he leads you to his bedroom, both of you stumbling slightly in the dark house. You’re only in your underwear, but you’re still wearing your heels, and you feel like you’re in some kind of Victoria Secret ad.

Roger keeps glancing back at you, his eyes sweeping your body, and he’s so distracted he almost runs into a wall at one point, and you have to tug on his arm to pull him out of the way, laughing as you do so. He retaliates by pushing you up against the wall and kissing you senseless, his thigh slotted between yours. You’re lightheaded and unbelievably turned on by the time he breaks away again, and it feels like a lifetime before you reach his bedroom.

Roger switches on the light.

The double bed is unmade, but the room itself is fairly tidy, just a pair of shoes and a shirt on the floor. The whole room screams tax-paying adult, and you’re reminded again that the man you’re about to sleep with is, in fact, a proper adult. Not like you, an adult by the loosest terms imaginable, but a fully-grown man with children and a mortgage and a career, probably. A completely different world to yours.

But none of that will matter when you’re both naked.

He closes the door behind him, and then you’re pouncing on him, pushing his shirt off his shoulders and all but tearing his belt off. His hands are tight on your hips, and when you undo his belt and the button and fly on his jeans, he pants, “Bed, bed, go sit on the bed.”

You do as you’re told, sitting on the edge of the bed and crossing one knee over the other, taking the opportunity to quickly tie your hair back out of your face while and Roger fumbles with the rest of his clothes, kicking off his shoes and pulling off his socks and jeans. You can tell that he would’ve been thin as a twig back in the day, and you’d easily call him slender even now, but his body is soft, the sign of a father who’s spent more time taking care of the kids and having a beer in the evenings to wind down than going to the gym. It suits him, looks good on him. You’re certainly a big fan.

Soon, he’s down to nothing but his boxer-briefs. His boxer-briefs, which are neon green.

You break out into a grin, and Roger looks down at them, sighing. “Of all the fucking pairs I could’ve put on today,” he mutters.

“They’re pretty great,” you say, and you make sure you have Roger’s full attention before you uncross your legs, spreading your knees wide, leaning back on your hands, “but I’m more interested in what’s underneath them.”

From the look on Roger’s face, you’d guess his legs are about to give out from under him. “You’re gonna fucking kill me,” he huffs, and he hurries over.

Grinning, you scramble backwards on the bed, lying down, and he crawls after you, over you, and his kiss is bruising.

Your hands are shaking now – with excitement and with nerves, a lot of nerves – but you ignore that, and worm your fingers inside his underwear, wrapping your hand around him and giving him a tug.

He jerks, and you have a moment of panic where you think you’ve done the wrong thing, but then he kisses you with more fervour, so you do it again. This time, his hand finds yours, gently guiding you away.

“Did I do something wrong?” you ask.

Roger looks confused for a moment, and then says, “God, no. I just don’t want to get too worked up before we get to, y’know, the main event.”

“Oh,” you say, smiling in relief.

“You really have no experience at all, do you?” Roger says, sounding almost disbelieving.

“That’s what I’ve been saying,” you say. “It hasn’t all been some elaborate ruse to get into your pants. Literally all I have is some vague, theoretical ideas on how this works. And I know the mechanics. But that’s it. So you’re gonna have to be patient with me.”

“That’s fine by me,” Roger says. He chuckles. “It’ll make everything I do seem much more magical than it really is.”

“Sure,” you say mock-condescendingly.

Roger laughs, and he looks so wonderful when he’s laughing that you can’t help but smile, your hand reaching up to comb through his hair.

He notices the look in your eye, your smile, and he smiles back in a way that makes your stomach squirm and your fingers and toes tingle.

He kisses you, and the squirming in your stomach grows into full-blown butterflies, big Amazonian ones, and you begin to have an inkling that, oh no, this could be bad. This could be very bad indeed.

It’s probably nothing. He’s just hot, and nice, and funny, so you’re excited to have sex with him. That’s it. You’re a duckling that’s imprinted on its mother. Except you’re a human, and Roger’s the first person you’re having sex with, not your mother.

Not the best analogy you’ve come up with. You can’t blame yourself, though – the way Roger’s kissing you is turning your brain into mush.

He presses a kiss to just under your ear, and then kisses all the way down your throat, and you tilt your head back. “Feels so good,” you murmur.

You can feel Roger smile against your skin.

He keeps going, kissing the hollow at the base of your throat, further down still, and you bite your bottom lip. He presses a kiss to the top of your right breast, and then looks up at you. “Can I take your bra off?”

You nod eagerly, and he moves back so you can sit up. “Oh, I’ve still got my shoes on,” you said.

“I’ve noticed,” Roger says, and you chuckle.

“As super sexy as they are, I do wanna take them off,” you say.

Roger ducks forward to drop a kiss to your neck, and the butterflies are back, and you can feel your cheeks going pink. You want to hide your face, but Roger’s right there, and you can’t look away from his eyes. “How about you take your bra off,” he says, “and I’ll get your shoes.”

“You don’t have to take my shoes off for me,” you say.

“Well, I want to,” he says simply, and shuffles down, climbing off the bed. He gestures for you to shift forward, and you do, until your feet are hanging off the bed, your knees hooked over the edge. Roger gets onto his knees – he makes a dad noise as he does so, and you giggle again – and fiddles with the buckle on one of your shoes.

You take a moment to watch him, biting your lip, smiling, and then reach behind you and unhook your bra, slipping it from your shoulders.

He doesn’t look up right away, and you’re thankful for a moment to get your head around the fact that you’ve never been completely topless in front of anyone before. You’re self-conscious about the grooves the bra has dug into your skin, about the way your breasts look without the aid of the push-up, and you almost go to cross your arms over yourself, but then Roger glances up, and his hands go still. “Bloody hell,” he breathes. “You’re gorgeous.”

You tuck your hair behind your ear. “Thanks,” you say in a small voice, unsure how else to respond.

Roger shakes his head, and focuses back on the shoe, making quick work of it and easing it off your foot, setting it down beside him. He moves onto the other shoe. “Talk about winning the fuckin’ lottery,” he says.

“I could say the same,” you say.

Roger stops again, looking to you, and then smiles, looking back to the shoe. His ears have gone red.

He takes the second shoe off and places it beside the first, then presses light kisses to the inside of your knee. He moves further up your leg, up your thigh, and you realise you’re holding your breath. His arms are curled around underneath your legs.

Roger looks up at you, his thick eyelashes making him look almost angelic. “Is this all right?” he says. “If I…?”

He’s asking if he can eat you out. Oh, God, he’s asking if he can eat you out. He wants to put his mouth and tongue there, and maybe his fingers, too, and no one’s ever done that before.

You nod eagerly. Maybe a little too eagerly, as Roger laughs.

You feel your stomach cave in on itself in embarrassment. “Actually, no thanks,” you say, trying to pull your legs back. “Changed my mind.”

“No, no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh,” Roger says, still chuckling. He coaxes your legs back to where they were, and kisses your thigh. “It was just the look on your face.”

“You’re doing a terrible job of wooing me,” you say, aiming for resolute and chastising, but it comes out sounding more weedy and humiliated.

“I’m sorry,” Roger says again, and his hands stroke your legs soothingly. “I am. I didn’t mean to make you feel embarrassed.” He smiles, a glint in his eye, and you’re momentarily left breathless. “Can I… make it up to you?”

You can’t help but smile back, rolling your eyes. “Wow. Cheesy.”

“Thank you,” Roger says. “I’m going to be honest, as fun as this banter is, my knees aren’t going to last forever.”

You splutter a laugh. “Yes, yes, okay, yes please.”

Roger surges up off the floor to press a firm kiss to your lips, and you take a moment to wonder just how dodgy his knees really are if he can do something like that, or whether he was just looking for a convenient segue into getting your underwear off. You’re not fussed either way.

Roger kisses your collarbone, and then pulls back, hooking his fingers into your underwear. “Lift your hips up for me, love?”

The pet name makes heat pool between your legs. Oh, Jesus.

“Mm-hm,” you say, hoping it sounds more nonchalant to him than it does to your own ears, and lie back to lift your hips, and he slides your underwear down your legs and drops them near your shoes.

You expect him to go back to his knees straight away, but he holds himself above you, kissing you, deep and slow, making you whimper into his mouth. One hand holds himself up, and the other one massages your hip, his thumb kneading your skin. Relaxing you, you realise. You let yourself get lost in the kiss, and you’re only partially aware when Roger’s hand moves from your hip to your thigh, brushing over your skin.

You’re extremely aware, however, when his fingers stroke through your folds for the first time.

Despite yourself, you jump, and Roger murmurs, “Sorry,” but you shake your head to dismiss his concerns, and pull him in again.

For a few moments it’s strange, feeling someone’s else hand there, and you’re very conscious of how wet you are, and you wonder if it’s something you should be embarrassed about, but then Roger circles your clit, and suddenly all your worries seem very far away.

It feels… good. Really fucking good. Roger’s fingers are rougher than yours, but they’re clearly experienced in how they move.

You push your hips up against Roger’s hand, wanting more, and Roger complies, his fingers moving just a touch more roughly, and he ducks his head to nuzzle at your throat, kissing it, nipping lightly.

“Oh, God,” you moan to the ceiling, overwhelmed already, and you almost laugh at how surprised you sound. Your hand grips Roger’s hair, and you hope it’s not too hard, but you couldn’t let go if you tried.

Then Roger’s hand is gone, and you let out a choked sound at the sudden stop. You try to gather your thoughts to ask why, but then Roger is kissing down your body. Oh, man, you think, unable to conjure up anything else, and Roger chuckles, and you realise you said it out loud, but you don’t have time to be embarrassed, as Roger takes one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it, his teeth tugging at it, and you gasp.

“I’ve never… That’s new,” you say weakly, hissing when Roger runs the flat of his tongue over your nipple.

Roger pulls off to ask, “Do you like it?”

“Yeah,” you say. “Yeah, uh-huh.”

“Good.” He goes back to his task, and you arch off the bed slightly.

“So good,” you breathe. Roger switches to the other nipple, and you moan appreciatively.

Eventually, both to your dismay and your excitement, he draws away, and presses a single kiss to the space between your breasts. “You’re fucking stunning,” he says, and then he moves back to climb off the bed, setting himself between your thighs.

You struggle to wrap your head around it. How he could be making you feel this good, and then still compliment you, as if you’ve done anything to deserve it?

Roger doesn’t waste time talking now. He kisses the inside of your thigh, and then he dives straight in, his tongue nudging your clit as it pushes through your folds. You suck in a sharp gasp, your hand gripping his hair tightly. Your other hand flails, grappling at the sheets as he starts to find a rhythm. You wind up pressing the back of it to your mouth, trying to muffle the sounds you’re making, trying to gather some sort of control, because right now you feel like you’re falling head-first off a cliff, and Roger has complete power over how you land.

He does something with his mouth – you couldn’t tell for the life of you what it is – and your hips buck against your will. “Sorry,” you blurt out, and it comes out broken and breathless.

Roger just adjusts one of his arms, bracing it across your hips, holding you down, and you moan. His other hand joins his mouth, sliding a finger into you. “Oh, fuck,” you whisper, and then your hand returns to its position, keeping you somewhat quieter.

It doesn’t take long before Roger’s working in a second finger, pumping them in and out of you, and the sound of it is so obscene that it makes your face go bright red. You’re climbing towards an orgasm, frighteningly quickly, and when a third finger squeezes in beside the first two, you very nearly come, but the sting of the stretch is enough to keep it at bay.

But then your body relaxes around the three fingers, and Roger crooks them just so and sucks on your clit, and you move your hand away from your mouth to say in a rush, “I’m– I’m so close, I’m gonna come, fuck, ah, shit,” and then–

Then Roger is gone, his fingers and mouth are gone, and you’re left teetering on the brink of an orgasm, feeling like the air has been punched out of you.

“Wh– Roger?” you say, your head a mess. You prop yourself up on your elbows to see Roger still between your legs, but instead he’s massaging your thighs with his thumbs, dropping light kisses to your soft skin.

He smiles up at you, his nose and chin glistening. “Thought we could try something.”

You shake your head to try to clear it. “But I was just about to…”

You can still feel the urge. Another minute, and you’ll be there. But the longer you wait, the more the feeling fades. It makes you want to punch a wall.

Roger hums. “I know. That’s the point.”

You frown, trying to wrap your head around it. “You… don’t want me to?”

“Not yet.”

It finally clicks. “You’re gonna do that to me a couple more times before you make me come, aren’t you?”

Roger’s smile widens into a grin. “That’s the plan. If you’re on board.”

“I’m on board,” you say. “As long as when I do come, it blows my fucking mind.”

“That’s really the point of it, love.” Roger keeps eye contact with you as he leans forward to press a kiss to your core, and you shudder. “And move your hand away from your mouth. You don’t have to be quiet. The more sounds you make, the better.”

“When am I gonna get my hands on you?” you ask. “I’ve barely even touched your dick yet.”

Roger huffs a laugh, and you can feel his breath against you. “We’re getting there,” he says easily. “Good things come to those who wait.”

“Ugh, that’s such a dad thing to say,” you bemoan, lying back down.

Roger laughs again, and then his mouth and hands return to where you so desperately need them. You suck in air through your teeth. “Fuck, Roger.”

Roger moans, and you jerk at the sensation.

He brings you to the edge once more, and, even though you don’t tell him when you’re about to come, he knows, and leaves you hanging once again. So close, so close, but not close enough.

You feel like crying. Or kicking him in the face.

You moan helplessly, slinging an arm over your eyes, your legs trembling as Roger smiles against your thigh – you can feel it. A smug smile that makes your blood boil and your core throb even more than it already is.

Then his fingers push into you for a third time, and his tongue licks through you, but this time it’s slow, painfully slow, not enough to make you come but enough to keep your head lost in the clouds, enough to make your stomach clench and twist, desperately searching for something. It’s enough to make you grind your teeth together. “God, fuck, I need to come,” you sob against the palm of your hand, your thighs trying to clench around Roger’s ears, but his arm is in the way, keeping your hips still.

His tongue drags against your clit, steady and unhurried, and the gasping whine that rips itself from your throat is piercing to your ears. Not even your hand could muffle it.

“There we go,” Roger says, and does it again.

You squirm. “Roger, fuck, please, I wanna come so bad.”

Roger’s fingers still move in and out of you at a leisurely pace, but he uses his mouth to say, “You wanna come?”

“Yes,” you say miserably. “Please, I need to.”

His thumb presses against your clit, and you bite your bottom lip, your body twisting.

“Christ,” Roger breathes. “That’s a fucking sight.”

“Fuck me,” you beg. “Anything, just please.”

Roger takes his hand away, standing and wiping his face on the back of his hand, and you swear. He kicks off his boxer-briefs. His cock is hard and red, swollen, leaking. You sit up and zero in on it like it’s a four-course meal and you haven’t eaten in days. You scramble off the bed, dropping to your knees in front of him.

“Fucking hell,” he says, clearly not expecting you to do that.

“Can I suck you off?” you ask desperately, resisting the urge to just shove your mouth around his dick without further preamble. “I’ll do a good job, I promise. Just tell me what to do. I’m a fast learner.” You curl your fist around him, sucking the head into your mouth.

Roger makes a strangled sound, his hips bucking slightly. “Wait, wait, wait,” he says quickly, guiding your head away with a hand on your head.

You pull back, but keep your hand where it is. “Just fuck my mouth,” you say, gazing up at him. “I dunno how that works, but I can keep it open.” You do so, sticking your tongue out, silently begging with your eyes.

Roger chuckles softly to himself, running a hand through his hair. “You’re gonna make me come just from running your mouth like that.”

You open your mouth wider.

“Or from just doing that,” Roger says. He pries your hand away from his dick, using it to pull you to your feet.

He kisses you, a hungry kiss, a you’re doing so well kiss, and it makes you preen. “But I want to fuck you,” he says. “I’ve had my dick sucked before; you’ve never been fucked.”

“I’ve never sucked a dick before, either, though,” you reason.

“Well, hit me up next time you’re in the neighbourhood,” Roger jokes. Before you can reply, he kisses you again, and you drink him in greedily, palming at his cock until his kisses grow sloppy, messy, more teeth and tongue, and he has to snatch your wrist. “Let me get inside you first,” he growls. “Good God.”

“I like it when you’re bossy,” you say, teasingly.

Roger hums, his eyes dark. “You need that attitude fucked right out of you.”

“Do it,” you say fervently, grinning in delight when he grabs your other wrist as well to stop you from touching him. “Do it, do it, do it. Fuck it right out me. I need it. Never had anyone try to fuck anything out of me before.”

Roger shudders. “Jesus.”

You half-heartedly try to tug your wrists back, but he holds them tightly. “Fuck me till I can’t walk,” you say. “Come on.”

Roger takes a breath, and then lets your wrists go. “Bed. Now.”

You scramble to obey, clenching your thighs together at the sight of Roger. He looks wrecked already, his hair a mess, his skin flushed, his eyes glassy, his lips red. He goes to his bedside table and digs out a bottle of lube and some condoms. “Maybe should check the date on these,” he mutters to himself, and squints at the packets in his hands. After a few moments of peering at them, he sighs in frustration, and reaches for the pair of glasses on the table that you hadn’t noticed before. He slips them on, and then nods at the packets. “They’re fine.”

He goes to take the glasses off, but you say, “Wait, show me.”

He turns to you. “Show you what?”

Fuck, he looks gorgeous in those glasses. They’re large, round ones, with delicate silver frames, and you make a soft sound. “Oh, wow.”

“I know, they’re horrendous,” Roger says, taking off the glasses and setting them down. “My eyesight’s always been shite, but I can’t stand wearing the bloody things.”

“No, you look great,” you say. “So great, in fact, that I need you to get the condom on so you can fuck me literally right now.”

Roger raises his eyebrows. “You what?”

“I’m dying here, Roger,” you say loudly, smacking the bed beside you. “You look hot as fuck in those glasses, and I’m so insanely horny that I’m about to explode. I need your dick in me right now.”

Roger grins, and rips open the condom packet. “All right. Jeez.”

“Let me do it,” you say, crawling over to him and taking the condom from him.

“You’ve ever done it before?” he asks.

“Not since we had to at school when I was, like, fifteen.” You do it carefully, to the best of your memory. Your mouth waters being so close to his cock. “Is this right?”

“Yeah, perfect,” Roger says. “You look incredible, by the way.”

You look up at Roger, and the butterflies return. You’re left momentarily speechless, but it doesn’t matter, because Roger leans down and kisses you. His hand rests against your collarbones, and you get another idea in your head. You rise up into a kneel, keeping his lips on yours, and then you take his hand, pressing it against your throat: a silent invitation.

Roger moans into your mouth, and applies some pressure, just a bit, testing the waters.

It makes your core ache, and you kiss him harder, so he presses harder in return. His palm is warm against your throat, and you keep one hand loosely around his wrist, the other hand in his hair, as it is wont to do.

You end up lying back on the bed, Roger pressing his hand against your throat as you gasp and squirm.

“You like this, don’t you?” Roger says, fingers on his other hand dipping into your folds. “Fuck, feel how wet you are.”

You nod desperately. Your mouth is hanging open, and your head is starting to swim.

“Is that all for me, love?”

You whimper, nodding again. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears.

Roger lets go of your throat, and you gasp, your eyes wide. “More,” you say immediately. “More. Fuck me like that.”

Roger smiles, keeping his palm against your throat, but brushes his thumb across your skin. His other hand curls around your knee. “Your enthusiasm is… mind-blowing,” he says with a chuckle, “but just take a moment, yeah? You’re all over the shop. Slow down a bit.”

“I don’t wanna slow down,” you protest, grabbing onto his forearm.

“We’ve got time, love. It doesn’t have to be over so quickly.”

“You can’t tease me like that, almost make me come, like, three times, and then tell me to slow down,” you say. “I need you, Roger. Christ, I need you. Show me what it’s like, show me how good my first time can be.”

Roger’s pupils are blown wide, and he lets out a shaky breath. He swallows. “Spread your legs.”

You grin, and do so. Roger lets go of your throat and leans over you on all fours to kiss you briefly. “I’m not choking you while I fuck you,” he says. “I want you to feel all of it, not have your head somewhere else.”

You nod vigorously.

Roger reaches for the lube. You hold out your hand, and he raises an eyebrow at you, but pours some into your hand. You reach forward and slide your fist up and down his cock, spreading the lube. He groans and shudders, and then he says, “That’s enough, that’s enough, I want to fuck you.”

You take your hand away, wiping the lube on the sheets, Roger surges forward to capture your lips with his, and you feel the head of his cock nudging at your entrance. A shot of adrenaline explodes within you.

“Tell me if it hurts, okay?” Roger says, and you nod.

Then, slowly, he pushes into you, just an inch or two. You gasp at the stretch, gripping onto his arms, your mouth wide.

Roger stills, and nuzzles at your throat. “You okay?”

“Mm-hm,” you say, biting your lip. “Keep… Keep going.”

He does, rocking in shallowly, just going a little further each time. He’s panting against your neck, and you can feel your sweat pricking your skin. You can’t help but admire Roger’s back, the way the muscles move.

It feels good. Once you get over the initial shock to the system of having something that size inside you, you realise why you were so excited to get to this in the first place.

“I’m good,” you say, nails absentmindedly scratching the back of his neck. “It– It doesn’t hurt or anything.”

“You sure?” Roger asks, kissing your neck softly.

You can’t help but laugh. “Roger, for the love of all things holy, fuck me.”

He doesn’t need another invitation. He slams into you, and your eyes go wide, a tiny sound of surprise leaping out of you.

“Sorry,” Roger says, raising his head to kiss you in apology.

“Don’t fucking apologise, it feels good,” you say back. “Come on, come on.”

Roger laughs, and kisses you. You can feel his laughter against your lips, feel the way his smile changes the shape of his mouth, and that dangerously warm feeling in the pit of your stomach returns.

You could get used to this. Get used to Roger laughing against your lips as he’s buried inside you. Get used to teasing him, to turning him on, to rolling around in his bed.

As soon as the thoughts creep into your mind, you banish them. That’s not happening, you tell yourself harshly. This is a one-and-done deal. You can’t develop feelings for a man you’ve only met once. A man who is, by the way, in case you’ve forgotten, sixteen years older than you.

Then Roger pulls out halfway and drives back into you, and all you can think about is his dick.

Your hand goes back to your mouth, just like before, keeping yourself quiet as you moan and whimper. Your ankles hook over the small of Roger’s back.

But then Roger pauses, sitting up, and he unwraps your legs from around him and pushes one of your knees flat on the bed, keeping you spread out wide. “Hands away from your mouth, love,” he says. “Let me hear you. It’s okay, you can let go.”

Your face burns, and you cover it with both of your hands. It’s too big of an ask. You’ve never felt more vulnerable. “Roger…”

“[Y/N].”

You lower your hands. He’s watching you, his blue eyes burning with desire, but they’re soft, too. Understanding.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he says. “Hold onto the sheets, yeah? Can you do that for me?”

You nod, and, with no small amount of effort, let your arms go by your sides, your fists wrapping in the sheets.

Roger smiles. “You’re amazing.”

You turn your head away, overwhelmed.

“Eyes on me. Hey.”

You look back at him. Exposed. You’re exposed, in every sense of the word.

Roger braces himself on the bed beside your ribs, and, keeping one hand on your knee, holding it down, he starts fucking into you again, hard and deep.

The sound you make could best be described as a mewl, and it’s a sound you’ve never heard yourself make before. Your hands tighten in the sheets, fighting the urge to cover your face again. Roger’s eyes are still on yours, and it’s too much, you want to look away, but you can’t.

“So good for me,” Roger pants. “Fuck. God, you’re incredible.”

You whine. “Roger.”

“That’s it, love. Say my name.”

He thrusts into you at just the right angle, making your back arch. “Roger.”

Roger groans, and he lets go of your knee to circle his fingers around your clit. You gasp, your eyes finally breaking away from his to look to the ceiling, feeling yourself climbing rapidly for the fourth time that night.

“Let me come, let me come, please,” you beg, your arms straining as your fists pull on the sheets.

Roger leans forward again to kiss you, a mess of heavy breathing and tongues and lips brushing. You let go of the sheets to clutch onto him, pawing at his shoulders and back and hips, unable to settle on where you want to hold him.

One hand inevitably slides into his hair, and you grip onto it, tugging it hard. Roger’s rhythm stutters, and he groans out your name.

His fingers feel so fucking good, and, doubled with the way he’s stretched you out, tripled with how he edged you before, you just know how hard you’re going to come. You can feel it building deeper within you than you’ve ever felt before, like an impending tsunami.

Roger readjusts, sitting back again, his brow furrowed as he searches for just the right spot to hit you.

When he does, you cry out. “Right there, right there, fuck.”

Your hands scrabble for purchase, and one finds your own hair, burying itself, and you don’t pull, but you keep a firm grip on it, the slight pain being the only thing keeping you from losing yourself entirely. Your other hand finds the same spot as before in the sheets, and you sob, screwing your eyes shut.

“You close?” Roger asks, and you nod.

“Say it out loud, love.”

“Yes, I’m so close, I’m so close,” you gasp. You’re almost there, you can feel it, only inches away, moments away.

“Open your eyes, come on.”

You do, and meet his gaze. “Roger,” you whimper.

“You gonna come for me?”

“Y-yeah.”

“I wanna hear it, yeah? Wanna see you. See you come undone on my cock.”

And that’s the final nail in the coffin. You orgasm pulses through you, so hard that you convulse, and you wail, blurting out Roger’s name, clenching down on him. Your blood roars in your ears, and you’ve never come so hard in your life.

Roger moans out, “Fuck,” and then pumps once, twice more, and then comes, groaning your name, a shudder ripping through him.

When he comes back to himself, blinking his big blue eyes at you, you can’t help but think he looks otherworldly. His face, pink, shines with sweat, as does his whole body. Locks of hair stick to his forehead, his temples. His mouth hangs open, and his chest heaves, and maybe it’s the ten-out-of-ten orgasm you just had, but in that moment, you kinda want to marry him.

He takes the hand you’ve tangled in the sheets, and presses a kiss to your wrist. Your heart just about explodes. “You all right?”

You splutter. “All right? The fuck’s that meant to mean?”

Roger smiles, massaging the palm of your hand with his thumb. “I mean, are you hurting anywhere?”

My heart hurts from you being all hot and perfect and stupidly romantic, you think. “No,” you say. “I’m just fine.”

He pulls out of you, carefully, and it does nothing but reignite a spark of arousal within you. Then he collapses onto the bed beside you with an unmistakable dad noise, and takes off the spent condom, tying it off and tossing it into the rubbish bin beside his bed. When that’s done, he wastes no time in rolling onto his side and pulling you in for a kiss. You hum happily, shifting closer to him, not even caring about the sweat and how wet you are all over your inner thighs.

When he breaks away, he says, “So. How do you feel?”

“Like I just had the biggest orgasm of my life,” you say.

Roger chuckles. “I meant now that you’re, y’know…”

It clicks. “Now I’ve lost my virginity?” you say playfully. “Had my sexual debut? I’ve become a woman?”

“Not that any of it matters, of course,” Roger adds. “But it’s still… It can be a big thing.”

You give him a soft kiss. “Yeah, it doesn’t matter,” you say. “Virginity is nothing but a social construct and all of that.”

“Of course,” Roger reiterates.

“But I feel… happy.” You hope your grin isn’t as cheesy as it feels. “It’s nice to not have to… worry about it anymore, I suppose? I don’t know if I was really worrying about it before, but it… I don’t know.” You shrug. “I just had a really good time. That’s all that matters.”

“Good.” Roger’s hand goes to your hip, squeezing it. “I’m glad.”

“Did…” You lick your lips. “Did you have a good time?”

“Did I have a good time?” Roger repeats, almost aghast. “Are you joking?”

“Even though I had no idea what I was doing?”

“You’re a natural.”

You laugh. Your stomach squirms – both because of those ridiculous maybe-almost-could-be feelings, and because, even though you know in your mind that the whole sex part of the evening is over, your body certainly isn’t ready to throw in the towel just yet.

Your thighs clench together, but you do your best to hide how it feels. You don’t want to be greedy.

Roger feels your thighs move under his hand, though, and he looks to you questioningly. “Are you still–”

“No, no, I’m fine,” you say lightly, shaking your head. “I was just moving around.”

Roger pauses, and then says, “All right.” He kisses you, and then takes a moment to gather his energy before he sits up. “I’ll get us some water.” He turns to you, pointing a finger at you, as if something just occurred to him. “You should go pee.”

Your eyes widen, and you nod. “Oh, yes, good thinking.”

“Bathroom’s just there,” he says, gesturing across the room at the closed door.

“You have an en suite?”

“Well, yeah. Much easier when there’s kids around.” His face falls a little. “Not that I’ve had the kids here very often recently, but uh…”

“I’m sorry,” you say.

He shakes his head. “Sorry. It’s fine. Great way to bring down the mood, eh?” He leans down again to kiss you, and then stands up, stretching. “Be back in a mo’.”

You watch him, your gaze hawk-like, as he pulls on his neon-green underwear and disappears out the door, raking his hand through his hair as he goes.

Your thighs clench together again, and you whimper.

You try to push it aside, and slide off the bed to go the bathroom, pulling on your underwear as you go. You don’t exactly feel like putting your push-up bra back on, but you don’t want to just lounge around completely naked. Would it be too presumptuous to put on Roger’s shirt?

You bite your lip, considering, and then decide to just bite the bullet, slipping it on and buttoning it up. It’s comfy, and smells like him; you understand why women in movies do it now. You do have to call bullshit on wearing a man’s shirt like a short, cute dress though – it’s more just like a long shirt, and you’re glad you’ve chosen to put on underwear.

It feels odd to pee in a stranger’s house – even odder that it’s an en suite – but you’re thankful that you get a moment to properly gather yourself in private, instead of while being surrounded by the smell of sex.

It’s when you’re washing your hands that you finally get a look at yourself in the mirror. Your mouth drops open in horror.

You look like a fucking mess. Your foundation is patchy where you get oily and where you’ve sweated it off, and there’s a slight ring of smudged mascara under your eyes – honestly, you’re thankful that it’s not worse, and that your setting spray did at least something. Your hair, though, is the worst of it all. You look like you’ve been dragged through a bush backwards.

“Oh, shit,” you whisper to yourself. What can you do? You don’t have any make-up with you to try to fix the problems, but you can’t exactly take it off, either. You have no way to fix your hair. You untie it from the ponytail it was in and try to smooth it out, but it doesn’t really do much, so you tie it back up again, but it’s a shitty ponytail, so you untie it and try again. Then you try a third time, and give up, settling on the disaster that it is, and grab a tissue, blotting at your make-up.

You sigh, staring at your reflection. Well, fuck. What the fuck are you meant to do? How the hell can you go back into the bedroom, knowing you look like this?

“[Y/N]?” Roger calls. “You all right in there, love?”

You shiver. God, the way he says the word ‘love’. The way he says your name.

You clear your throat. “Um, yeah, I’m– I’m fine. Just…” You can’t say you’re still peeing. Oh, fuck, what if he thinks you’re taking a shit or something? “I’m just fixing up my make-up.”

“I think there might still be some make-up wipes in a drawer somewhere, if you want to have a look,” Roger says. “Maybe they’re no good anymore, I’m not sure.”

You have a dig around, and find a packet. It’s already been opened, quite a while ago by the looks of it. Must be Roger’s ex-wife’s.

The thought of that sits weirdly with you, but you’re not quite sure why. Almost like you feel like you’re intruding, maybe. You certainly don’t feel like you belong here, in this bougie, nice house.

You sigh again, and pull out a handful of make-up wipes, seeing if there’s any that still hold any moisture. One in the middle has a little bit, so you carefully run it under your eyes, and lightly tap it over your forehead and down your neck to soothe your skin, fixing up any problem areas as best you can without it being too obvious that you’ve just wiped off the make-up.

The end result is fine. Not good, and certainly not great, but… yeah. Fine.

You throw the make-up wipes into the bin, take a deep breath, and exit the bathroom.

Roger’s on his phone, and he looks up when he hears the door open. His face goes slack when he sees you. “You’re wearing my shirt?”

“Isn’t that what girls are meant to do after sex?” you joke.

“I just haven’t seen, um, anyone do that in… in a long time,” he says, somewhat stilted, and he glances down at his hands. He quickly turns his eyes back to you. “It looks good. Really good.”

“Thank you,” you say, and pad over to the bedside table near him, where he has two glasses of water waiting. “Which one’s mine?”

“On the left.” Roger sets his phone down and watches you as you take a sip of water.

He’s close to you, and, like before you kissed for the first time, you’re hyperaware of every movement. But he barely moves, just waits for you.

When you put the water down, you hesitate. You want to climb on top of him, kiss him, feeling his arms around you again, but is that too much? Does he want you to go? Are you overstaying your welcome?

“You all right?” he asks gently.

You nod. “Um, yeah,” you say, and take a step back. “You probably, um, have work or something tomorrow, so I should go.”

You don’t miss the way Roger’s face falls a bit. “Oh, you want to go?”

No. “Well, it– I don’t want to impose…”

“If you want to go, then I’ll order an Uber for you,” Roger says. “But don’t feel like you have to go if you don’t want to.”

The Amazonian butterflies are back yet again. “I…”

“Because – and correct me if I’m wrong,” Roger says, reaching out and tugging on his shirt, pulling you closer, and you go without any resistance, “but I think you were telling a bit of a fib before, when you said you were… what did you say? Just moving around?”

You press your lips together as Roger guides you between his legs, and he tilts his head back to gaze up at you. He smiles at the look on your face. “Am I right?”

You can feel your face heating up again. “No,” you mumble unconvincingly, hiding your smile behind your hand.

“No hands over mouths,” Roger murmurs, reaching up and taking yours. “You don’t have to hide.”

Fuck. Oh, fuck. His voice sounds like a warm fireplace feels, and you barely even know him, but you’ve never felt safer, more comfortable, around a man. You can’t pretend now – you’re really starting to like him.

Roger raises his eyebrows at you, just a touch, searching your face. “So? Am I right?”

“It’s fine,” you say, shaking your head. “I’m fine, really. You’ve done plenty, I… I can’t ask for more.”

Roger hums, and presses a kiss to your palm before letting your hand go. “All right, okay,” he says. “I was wrong, I see. Can I at least tell you what I’d do to you if I had been right?”

You breathe in shakily, and nod once.

The corner of Roger’s mouth quirks up. “Well,” he says slowly, “first I’d kiss you, of course. And, as hot as you look wearing nothing but my shirt and your knickers, I’d undress you again. Get you lying down on your back, all spread out for me. I’d kiss you some more. Then I think I’d choke you, because you seem to like that a lot, yeah?”

You nod, hypnotised.

Roger nods as well. “Right. And then, while I was holding you down by your throat–”

You gulp.

“–I’d get my other hand, and I’d–”

“Okay, yes, you were right,” you blurt out, and grab his face, ducking down to kiss him desperately. He kisses you with just as much hunger, and nudges you a few steps back, giving him enough room so he can stand up and start unbuttoning the shirt. As soon as he’s done, your shrug it from your shoulders, and Roger pulls you closer by your ass. One hand moves to cup your jaw, his tongue pressing against yours. It doesn’t take long before the hand shifts to your throat, and you whimper softly, urging him to tighten his grip.

He does, and the feeling of it goes straight to your core. Your hands clutch at him frantically.

He lets go of your throat, and you suck in a gasp, then latch onto his neck, kissing and nipping and sucking at his skin, licking off the salty traces of sweat.

“Careful, love, careful,” he says shakily. “I can’t turn up to work looking like I’ve been attacked by a vacuum.”

You huff, but soften your kisses. He moans under his breath, and you don’t think you’ve ever heard anything hotter.

Soon, you break away, and crawl back onto the bed, and he follows you, positioning himself on all fours above you to kiss you deeply, his knee slotting into between your thighs. He presses it against your core, and you instinctively grind against it, shuddering when it fires an electric shock of arousal through your system. Roger shifts, readjusting his balance so he can bring his hand back to your throat, and you welcome it. You grind against his leg again.

It’s when you have to stop kissing him, your brain going into overdrive trying to force you to focus on breathing, you have to breathe, that Roger sits back, moving his leg out of the way and replacing it with his other hand.

“Fuck, Roger,” you gasp, twitching under his grip, your hands vice-like on his forearm. Your eyes slide closed, revelling in the way your head swims, the way your body fights to suck as much oxygen as it can into your lungs. You’re still so wet from before, still so stretched out, that Roger slides two fingers into you at the same time with ease, and you let out a stuttering moan, bucking your hips into his hand. His fingers swirl around your clit, hitting it in just the right way, and within minutes you’re almost there.

“Most people think the best part about getting choked is the actual ‘getting choked’ part,” Roger says out of the blue, and you frown, trying to follow, opening your eyes.

“Hear me out,” Roger says casually, pushing his fingers back into you and flicking your clit with his thumb, and you whine. “Are you close, love?”

You nod.

Roger hums. “You look so good like this. Does it feel good?”

You nod again. “Mm-hm.”

“Yeah, looks like it does. Looks like you enjoy it.”

“Ah, Roger, please.”

“It’s all right, love, I’ve got you.” Roger’s fingers quicken their pace, and you make a sound, squirming.

“As I was saying,” Roger continues, “people think the best part of getting choked is actually getting choked. But it’s not. The best part of it is actually being let go. Do you want to see?”

You nod, barely even listening to what he’s saying. You’re too close to coming to pay attention.

And then Roger lets go of your throat at the same time he brushes your clit, and a rush of oxygen flows into your lungs, a rush of blood flows back to your head, and your orgasm slams into you, and the world seems so much brighter in that moment. “Oh, fuck, fuck,” you gasp, your back arching, your eyes wide.

It feels like it goes on for a lifetime, although perhaps that’s just your mind trying to sort itself out. When you do finally start to come down from your high, you realise you’re shaking, and Roger is grinning at you. You blink at him owlishly.

“Wh– Huh?” you breathe, your heart racing, and Roger laughs.

“So you’re alive, then,” he teases, and leans down to kiss you.

You grab onto him, kissing him soundly, and roll the both of you over, so you’re straddling him. You just stay like that, just making out, letting the frenzied kisses lull themselves into something slower, something calmer. Just kissing for the sake of it. Roger’s hands stroke up and down your back, and you could almost fall asleep like this.

Speaking of falling asleep – you have to break away, hiding your yawn by tucking your face into his chest. Roger hums, and you can feel it vibrating against your body. You smile. “Sorry,” you mumble.

“Can hardly blame you,” Roger says, his voice low. “It’s late.”

You let yourself slump against him, a moment of pure self-indulgence, and then roll to the side, dumping yourself onto the bed. You groan, unable to stop yourself from instinctively shifting into a more comfortable position for sleeping, your arm beneath your head like a pillow, your eyes closing.

“I’m sorry,” you say again, muffled by your arm. “I’ll leave in a minute.”

Roger says nothing, and you feel your stomach coil in guilt. God, he wanted you to leave fifteen minutes ago, didn’t he? He was just too polite to say anything. And then you pressured him into making you come again, because you were too selfish to know when enough was enough. Great, fucking great, you’ve fucked it all up, and you’re a huge piece of shit, and you–

“Did you want to stay the night?” Roger asks tentatively.

Your eyes fly open, and you shift up onto your elbow. “What?” you say. “Stay?”

Roger glances away from you. “It– It was just a suggestion,” he says. “Just an idea, I don’t know. I, um – it’s just late, and I don’t want you travelling all that way on your own. You can, obviously, if you want to, that’s up to you, I just…”

You’re hardly even listening. You’re still struggling to drink in the first thing he said. “You want me to stay?” you ask.

Roger looks to you, and bites his bottom lip. “If– Well, if you want to, then, um, yes, I’d like you to. But only if you want to.”

You beam, and your heart triples in size. “Um, yes. I’d like to.”

Roger smiles back. “Good. Great. That’s–” He clears his throat. “Did you want to have a shower?”

“I think so,” you say with a laugh. “I’m…” You went to say I’m so disgusting right now, but you don’t want to fuck up your now-sleepover before it’s even properly begun. “Yes please.”

“Well, you know where the bathroom is,” Roger says, nodding towards the en suite. “There’s a spare toothbrush in the drawer, if I remember correctly. I’ll get you a towel.”

“You’re not coming into the shower with me?” you ask coyly.

Roger blinks, and you laugh.

“Oh,” he says. “You were joking.”

“I wasn’t,” you say. “You just made me laugh.”

Roger swoops down to steal a kiss, and you don’t let him leave, pushing up into him, stealing a few kisses back.

“Let me get you a towel,” he says, and then climbs off the bed and pads out of the room.

You bite on your finger to stop yourself from making some stupid giggle, or maybe a dumb squealing sound like a little girl. He asked you to stay the night. He wants you to stay the night.

Oh, shit, you realise, your finger dropping from your mouth. Justine. You never told her what was happening.

Where’s your phone? In the living room. Spitting out a curse, you pull on your underwear and Roger’s shirt again, and hurry out. You run into Roger, arms full of sheets, in the hallway. “Hey, is everything all right?” he says. “What did you forget?”

“I never told my roommate I wasn’t coming home,” you say. “Last she heard, I was about to book an Uber.”

Roger’s eyes go a little wider. “Shit, whoops. Yeah, go tell her.”

You shoot him a smile, and scurry off to the living room. Your phone is on the couch, and you snatch it up. Wow, shit, it is late. You’re glad you only have an afternoon lecture tomorrow.

Thankfully, just one message from Justine, from about half an hour ago. hey, haven’t heard from u in a while. just send me a message when u get this ok? xx

You respond. fuck sorry, left my phone in the other room. I have SO MUCH to tell u omg, but in a nutshell uhh we ended up sleeping together, it was fucking amazing, and now he’s asked me to stay over, so ill see u at uni tomorrow maybe? if not then at home xx

You keep your phone in hand, and head back to Roger’s room. He’s started cleaning up in the minute you were gone, stripping the bed. Fresh sheets sit on the floor. “What’s this?” you ask.

“I’m making the bed,” Roger says simply, tugging a pillow from its case. “I’m too old to be sleeping on sheets I’ve just had sex on. Let me tell you, it makes a difference. And the sheets were due for a change, anyway.”

You step forward. “Well, let me help.”

“Don’t be silly, jump in the shower.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” You set your phone down beside his on the bedside table, and together the two of you help remake his bed.

Roger chases you into the shower then, and says he’s going to tidy up the room a little more before he joins you. “I’m on a roll now,” he says, picking up your shoes from where you kicked them aside during the bed-making. “Can’t stop, won’t stop.”

You take the make-up wipes. The door is about halfway open, and you can hear Roger moving around, hear when he trips over something and hisses out a curse, making you smile.

The make-up wipe freezes in the air near your eye. You can’t very well have a shower and go to bed without taking your make-up off – it does not make even a vague semblance of a pretty picture – but this is… way more intimate than you were expecting. Why didn’t you think of this when you agreed to stay over? Roger’s going to see you without your make-up on, with your hair tied up in a bun. He’s going to see you in the morning, all bleary-eyed and disgusting. Fuck, morning breath. You have the spare clothes you brought that you can change into tomorrow, but no extra underwear. Nothing to wear tonight. It’s a miracle that Roger even has a spare toothbrush. What time does he get up for work? Will he expect you to leave before he wakes up?

Are you a one-night-stand? Is that what this is? Are you asked to stay the night if you’re nothing but a one-night-stand, or does the fact that he asked you mean something else?

“Is your roommate all right?” Roger asks, coming to the door, leaning against the doorjamb. “No freak-outs?”

You lower the make-up wipe. “Um, no. It’s all fine, I think.”

“Have you found the toothbrush?”

“No, I haven’t checked yet.”

Roger moves around you, pulling open the drawer and rummaging through. “Ah, here it is. Still in the packet! How good am I?”

You smile as he presents it to you like it’s a medal of honour. “Thanks.”

“Sorry about the make-up wipes,” Roger says. “They’re not great.” He huffs, and then leans against the edge of the sink, rubbing his hands down his face. “I’m sorry,” he says again. “I’m… I’m actually really nervous.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Nervous?” you repeat. “About what?”

“About… you staying over,” he confesses. “It’s been, I don’t know, ten years since I’ve had anyone new sleep over. My brain is suddenly filled with every annoying thing I do when I sleep. And I look awful in the mornings, let me tell you. If you think I look bad now, just you wait.”

“Who says I think you look bad now?” you say. “I thought I made it perfectly clear that I think you’re a hot piece of ass, Roger.”

Roger splutters, flustered, and you grin.

“I move around a lot,” he says. “When I sleep. So be prepared to cop an elbow to the face.”

“Don’t you worry, I’m a heavy sleeper,” you say. “And I move around, too.”

“I run hot,” Roger adds. “I’m like a space heater. And sometimes I talk in my sleep, but only when I’m really stressed about something, like work. I can be really very clingy.”

“I run cold,” you say with a shrug. “So clingy suits me fine.”

Roger pauses, staring at you, like he wasn’t expecting an answer like that. Then he snaps out of it, glancing away. “Sorry,” he says for a third time.

“Don’t apologise,” you say, shaking your head. “You don’t have to. I’m nervous, too. Like, really fucking nervous. I’m– I’m too nervous to even take my make-up off.”

Roger’s eyes search your face. “I won’t care what you look like,” he says gently. “I’m sorry that you feel nervous about taking it off. But it won’t matter, I promise.”

“Just wait and see,” you joke in a sing-song voice.

Roger is silent for a few moments, and then he says, “Well, I hope you’re ready. I’m going to kiss the bloody daylight out of you when you take it off.”

You don’t know how to respond. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I’m going to. I’m going to do whatever it takes to make sure you don’t feel uncomfortable without make-up on. And if that means I have to keep kissing you all night as a reminder that it doesn’t matter what you look like without make-up, then that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

You duck your head, making a disgruntled sound. Why does he have to say cute shit like that? Why must he make you suffer?

Roger pushes the packet of make-up wipes a little closer to you, waggles his eyebrows at you, making you giggle, and then reaches across you for his toothbrush.

You start wiping off your make-up.

Roger waits until you’ve finished taking it off, until you’ve brushed your teeth, until you’re well and truly left without anything to do, and then he cups your face in his hands and does exactly what he promised he’d do.

One steamy make-out session and one far-too-long shower later, you’re sitting on the newly-made bed, wrapping in a towel, the strands of hair that slipped loose from your bun sticking to your neck and temples. You’re watching Roger pull on a pair of underwear and rifle through his chest of drawers. He pulls out a huge shirt, clearly worn and well-loved, and turns to you, holding it out. “I went on a day trip once to Brighton,” he says. “We were out to a pub and I spilled red wine all over my shirt. Had to buy a new one. Sent one of my mates to get it for me and he came back with this. Hence why I have a shirt about five sizes too big for me.”

“You didn’t have to explain,” you say with a chuckle, taking it from him.

“I feel like I did,” Roger says. “I, um, usually use it as a sleep shirt when I travel.”

You slip it on, and then stand up, letting your towel drop to the floor. The shirt is long enough to cover everything, but you’re not about to bend down any time soon.

You glance over at your underwear, where they’re in a pile near the door. Should you put them back on?

“Please don’t,” Roger blurts.

You look to him. “Huh?”

His face goes red. “Um. I just– I– You– I saw you look over there, and–” He rubs his hand along his jaw. “I, um…” He looks to the ceiling, and says it in a rush. “I’m sorry this sounds awful but I saw you looking over at your knickers and I don’t want you to put them on because you look really hot wearing my shirt and the thought of you wearing nothing underneath makes my brain explode.”

“You’re one to talk,” you say, “standing in front of me in nothing but a pair of boxers like that doesn’t make my brain explode.”

Roger’s eyes flick towards yours, and he breaks out into a smile, and then laughs. “I guess we’re even, then.”

“We’ll be truly even when I see you wearing my clothes,” you say teasingly.

Roger steps in close, his hands coming to your waist. “I don’t think your dress would fit properly, love.”

“I’ll have to come better prepared next time,” you say, and Roger hums, leaning in to give you a kiss.

Next time. Next time. You said ‘next time’. Talk about presumptuous. Christ! What is wrong with you?

You break away. “Not that I think there’ll be a next time,” you say quickly. No. Bad phrasing. “I don’t want to assume there’ll be a next time.” Still bad. “I don’t want you to think that I think there has to be a next time.” Even worse. “I don’t want you to feel obliged to have a next time if you don’t want there to be.” Better. Not great, but passable.

“I want a next time,” Roger says. “If you want one.”

“I do,” you say, God, far too eager. “I’d really like there to be a next time.”

“Me too,” Roger says.

You press into him for another kiss, and then, finally, the two of you make it to bed.

Once you’re under the covers, you almost fall asleep immediately. You didn’t realise how exhausted you are. Roger reaches over and switches off the light, and then wraps an arm around your stomach, his front against your spine. You allow yourself to smile freely in the dark, even as your eyes close and you drift off to sleep.

~~~

“I’m… I’m going to send you the rest of the payment,” Roger says. He’s dressed for work, just in a white dress shirt and black slacks, and you’d been admiring him and enjoying the coffee he’d made you after you’d gotten out of the shower. It’s early – too early, for both of you.

But now your stomach drops, and you lower your mug of coffee from your lips. “You are?”

“Yes,” Roger says.

“You don’t have to,” you say. “I said it last night, I don’t care about the money.”

“I know,” Roger says. “But it’s still right. You started this whole thing to help pay the bills, and it’s not your fault that there was that whole mix-up. You don’t deserve to miss out on getting the money you’ve rightfully earned.”

“You don’t deserve to fork out that much money because of that whole mix-up,” you say. “You’ve already paid half of it. And it’s– it’s quite a fair bit, Roger.”

“I can afford to pay it,” Roger says. “I’m living more than comfortably. Giving you the money you’ve earned would just mean that I can’t, I don’t know, travel overseas this year.” He raises his eyebrows a touch. “Well, now that I might not have to be paying for three kids as well, maybe I’ll still be able to afford to go.” He shakes his head. “That’s beside the… My point is, I can afford it. And you deserve it.”

You don’t know what to say. “Roger…”

“Just let me,” he says earnestly. “Please. I want to.”

You open and close your mouth a few times. God, you’d be mad to turn down the money. But it doesn’t feel right. Does it? You don’t even know what to think.

You glance down at your mug. “All right,” you say quietly, so much so that you’re not even sure if he can hear you. But you can’t bring yourself to speak any louder. “Thank you, Roger.”

“Hey.”

You look up at him, and he smiles. “You can pay me back by letting me take you out to dinner.”

Your face immediately grows hot. “Suave motherfucker,” you say, and he laughs.

“I still have a few tricks up my sleeve,” he says playfully.

Your stomach squeezes. “Sure,” you say. “But I’m paying.”

Roger snorts. “Not bloody likely.”

“I’ll fight you for the cheque, don’t think I won’t.”

“Maybe I’ll just sneakily pay for it before you’ve even realised.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Can we settle on going Dutch?”

Roger sips his coffee. “All right,” he says eventually.

“Good.”

He takes out his phone, holding it out to you. “Text me some time during this week,” he says. “About where you want to go. Or just text me if you want to say hi. Or call me. Y’know, whatever.”

You tilt your head to the side as you take his phone. “That wasn’t quite as suave, I have admit.”

Roger sighs. “Damn.”

You laugh, and send a quick text to yourself, then slide the phone back to him.

He seems extremely pleased, but he takes a casual drink from his coffee like he’s trying to hide it, and you can’t help but think it’s horribly cute.

He shoots a glance at you, and sees you grinning at him, and his cheeks turn pink, and he clears his throat, turning away to the sink to rinse his mug out.

~~~

You’re at uni, half-asleep, shuffling back to the bus stop after your never-ending lecture, when Justine barrels into you, grabbing your elbow so tightly that you yelp. “What the fuck happened last night?” she exclaims.

You don’t know why it hadn’t been awkward this morning. Apart from the money conversation. There had still been some nervousness, on your part anyway, but Roger had been too focused on getting ready for work to let any uncomfortable silences hang. You have to admit that it had been nice to wake up with someone’s arm around you, and you had been quietly delighted to see Roger fussing over the faint bruises on his neck, pulling up his shirt collar and adjusting his tie to try to cover them. After you’d both gotten ready for the day, he’d dropped you at the nearest bus stop. “And I will text you,” he’d said seriously. “Don’t think I won’t.”

“Good,” you’d said. “I’ll be waiting for it. Three days is the general rule, right?”

Roger had groaned. “Don’t make me wait three days.”

You had chuckled. “I’m not making you do anything.” You’d hesitated, and then said, “Is it weird if I kiss you before I go?”

Roger had taken a breath. “I… wouldn’t say so, no.”

So you’d leant in and kissed him, and he’d kissed you back, and you’d wanted to keep kissing him, but a car had pulled up behind you and honked, so you’d drawn back, whispered, “Bye,” and gotten out of the car.

Once you’d figured out how to get home, you’d crashed, sleeping until your alarm had woken you up again for your lecture.

“Stuff,” you say to Justine.

“Stuff?” Justine squawks. “Don’t give me that shit. You have to tell me literally everything, or I’m going to kill you. Come on.” She loops her arm through yours, and starts towing you towards the bus stop.

Your phone buzzes, and you pull it out of your pocket.

I know it hasn’t been three days, but it’s been more than three hours. Is that enough time, do you think?

You smile, reply, I think so, yeah, then quickly pocket the phone before Justine can sneak a glance as Amazonian butterflies flutter around in your stomach.

#queen fanfiction #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor imagine #rpf #mine #smut

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darkfairy-tales · 4 years

Text

100 Degrees

Chapter One

Description: Two boys with hearts on their sleeves. Summer love, midnight kisses. Pretty smiles.

Pairing: Yunho x Hongjoong

Warning: None, dash of angst, mostly fluff

P.s. Inspired by THEBOYZ Sunwoo's 100 Degree cover

"Yoona thank you so much for agreeing. If we could take him with us we totally would have but sadly we can't." Hongjoong listened to his mother say to her best friend. He was supposed to be home, enjoying his summer vaccation, probably hanging out with his friends. But because of his parent's work, where an emergency came up, they had to go to England soon. And his parents as usual didn't trusted him enough to stay safe alone in the house. After a lot of complaining and talking Hongjoong finally agreed to stay at the house of his mother's bestfriend who lived in the countryside, a little away from the city. So here they were. "Oh no don't start saying thank you. We are best friends. And you son is like my own." His mother's besfriend Jeong Yoona said smiling. "He can be a little clumsy." His mother, Yunhae, snickered making Hongjoong pout. "Don't worry. My son will help him. Reminds me Yunho hasn't came back. Aigoo he could have met you." Yoona says. "I guess I will meet him later. I have to go now Yoona. Thank you again." Mrs.Kim says. After saying 'goodbye' Hongjoong's mother and father went back.

"Hongjoong-ah come on son I will show you to your room." Mr.Jeong says as he holds the suitcase for Hongjoong. Hongjoong follows Mr.Jeong upstairs. The house was not that huge but it was cozy. Mr. Jeong stopped in fronf of a closed room opening it. "We prepared this one as your room. It is not much but I hope you would be comfortable." he says opening the room door walking in with Hongjoong following suit. "It is really great uncle. I like it." Hongjoong smile kindly. "I am glad kid. Here is your suitcase. And there is the closet. The room that comes before yours is Yunho's. Our son. The next room is the bathroom. I will go down. Rest now." Mr.Jeong says patting Hongjoong's head as he walks out.

Hongjoong sighs as he lays down the bed. He really appreciated the fact that the Jeong Family was really trying hard to make him feel at home and welcomed but God he couldn't help that he misses his friends so much he wanted to go back to the city. Just then his phone rang. He looked at the screen and realized his friend Yeosang was calling him. He picked the phone up quickly. "Hello!! How are you doing? Is the countryside nice?" Yeosang asks with a teasing tone. He could hear his other friend Wooyoung and Seonghwa at the back say something but he didn't caught what they were saying. "Yes actually it is really nice. The air is clean. It's really refreshing and the family of my mom's bestfriend is really great too. But I do miss you all." Hongjoong whines. "We miss you here too! But do enjoy there. You might as well have as much fun as you can there." Seonghwa says. Hongjoong was about to say something but there was a knock on the door. "I will call you guys later or so. I gotta go." He said ending the call. "Come in." he said sitting up properly on the bed.

The door slowly opened and a tall guy with beautiful brown eyes walked in. Hongjoong looked in surprised. The boy was handsome. God he looked so casual. Hongjoong's face flushed as his heart started beating fast. 'Is this what people calls first love?' He thought to himself but quickly shook his head. "Hey. I am Jeong Yunho. Do you want to tag along with me? I am going to hangout with my friends. You can join if you want to." Yunho offers. "U-uh yeah I would love to! But are you sure your friends won't mind?" Hongjoong asked. "No they won't mind." Yunho smiles. "Okay just lemme change into something more comfortable." Hongjoong says smiling back, his face still flushed. "I will wait outside the house. Come out when you are ready." Yunho says walking out closing the door behind him leaving the boy to change.

He walked out of the house where his friends were waiting. "How is the boy like? Is he nice? Or is he like those rich city brat?" His friend Jongho asked. "Hongjoong is older than you Jongho. And no he is not like that. He is pretty nice I think." Yunho says. "He is also really cute." He said in a small voice but his friend San had heard him. "Cute??? Does our Yunho have a small crush on the city boy?" He teased making Yunho huff but he didn't deny. "Yunho I am done!" They heard a voice say. They turned around and saw Hongjoong.

Hongjoong closed the door behind him. "Hello. I am Hongjoong. Nice to meet you." He introduces himself with a smile at San and Jongho. "He is San and he is Jongho. They are my friends. One is still not here. Well we will meet him at the river side. His name is Mingi." Yunho says. "Let's go then! Ah I can't wait to have some fun. Play games and all." San says. They all went towards the river side. Hongjoong following Yunho closely.

They reached the river side soon. "Wow there are lots of flowers!" Hongjoong exclaimed as his eyes sparkled looking at the flowers which were growing alongside the river bank. "Hello guys!!" a loud and deep voice greeted. Hongjoong turned around to see another tall boy who he assumed was Mingi. He had a basket in his hand. He walked up towards them. "I am guessing you are the city boy who is staying with our Yunho?" Mingi asked. "Yes. I am Hongjoong. You are Mingi?" Hongjoong says. "Yep! The one and only." Mingi says making the other snort. "By the way my mom made us food. Let's eat you all!' he says. They all sat down on the thick grass. Hongjoong sat beside Yunho as Mingi took out different snacks one by one and they all started eating. "Mingi's mom is so good at cooking. But mingi never learns from her. Last time Mingi cooked he made us eat half cooked food." San says laughing when Mingi whines about how past things should be forgotten and not mentioned again and again.

Hongjoong laughed along them. The guys were fun to be with. They had played various games. Hongjoong didn't even knew these games existed but it was very fun. It was already around 4pm when they were all ready to head back to their homes. "Hongjoong hyung you are so cool! We love hanging out with you. Let's hang out more." Mingi says smiling brightly. "I am glad you think so Mingi." Hongjoong said ruffling the taller's head. Yunho coughed looking at the two a bit jealous. "Let's get going then." He stated. "Yeah. Me and Jongho will go to Mingi's house first to get some things. So we will get going now. Bye!" San says. The three of them walked the opposite side.

"Let's go." Yunho said as he walked to the other side, Hongjoong following him closely. They walked down the small street between the houses. Yunho stopped in front of a small store. "Wanna get ice cream?" He asks Hongjoong excitedly. Hongjoong nods. "Yes. It would be nice to eat something cold." Both of them went inside the small store. "Hello ajhumma! Good evening." Yunho greets the woman who was at the counter. "Hello dear. How have you been?" The woman asks. "I am fine ajhumma. He is Hongjoong! He is staying with us this summer." Yunho introduces the smaller. "Hello." Hongjoong said bowing a bitl. "Aigoo you are so cute. You remind me of my grandson who is at Seoul. Anyway what do you two want?" The woman asks with a friendly smile. "Ice cream! I will choose." Yunho announces as he went towards where the ice creams were kept. He picked out two cookies and cream ice cream handing one to Hongjoong as he paid for it.

"You two are so cute. Are you two perhaps dating?" The woman asked with a raised eyebrow. Hongjoong almost dropped his ice cream at her words. "No! We are.. friends yeah." Yunho says blushing. Hongjoong was red like a strawberry and also speechless due to how flustered he was. "Why is it that there is a tension between you two then?" The woman asked again with a teasing smile. "You are seeing things now ajhumma! We will get going now. I will come again tomorrow. Bye bye." Yunho quickly says as he drags Hongjoong out of the store by his hand escape the teasing.

"I am sorry. She is just... like that." Yunho says scratching his head in a cute manner. "It's fine. I... I wouldn't mind dating you anyway." Hongjoong blurted out his hand quickly coming up to close his mouth. Yunho looks at the smaller smiling shyly, both their cheeks red. "Same." The taller mutters looking down. Hongjoong froze at the words but relaxed. He turned around towards Yunho leaning up and kissing the tall boy on his left cheek. "Let's go back." he said as he smiled in victory on the inside. Yunho giggled as he took hold of the smaller's hand as they walked back to their home hand in hand. Their other hands holding on their ice cream which was sort of long forgotten. In the sweet summer, love started blooming between the two boys who had their hearts on their sleeves.

Next Chapter

Hello!!! Hope you guy will love this! I am a hoe for YunJoong ship! Like tall and short couples gets to me. You remember when they were making choreo and Yunho was at the front with his left hand out doing a pose and Hongjoong walked up holding that hand and doing the same pose and then they both blushed letting go. THAT WAS SO SOFT!!! 😭😭😭😍😍 UWU~

And I am sorry if there is any wrong grammar. English is not my first language so yeah. Please don't forget to drop a like and reblog! I will post the next chapter soon again. Maybe later if I get time. This won't have that many chapter. 4-5 chapters maximum.

Stay tuned for the next chapter!

BUIII~ ♪ ♬ ヾ(´︶`♡)ﾉ ♬ ♪

#ateez hongjoong #ateez yunho #ateez jongho #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez yeosang #ateez wooyoung #ateez seonghwa #ateez #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez boyfriend au #ateez scenarios #summer love

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sagesparrow394 · 6 years

Text

Insecure

AUs: Human, Chubby Logan

Summary: Logan was nervous enough for his first date, but when his date walks in and reveals himself to be ripped, he gets even worse.

Pairings: Analogical

Based off the post by @snakeboicouldbegayer. Also tagging @noahlovescoffeebecause heck, their art was so good and everyone needs to know about it.

Logan Berry bit his lip as he sat in the booth at the coffee shop. Why on earth was he doing this? He should just run, it would be best if he just ran.

Logan’s two best friends had convinced him to try online dating. Now, Logan wasn’t exactly a romantic. He’d never dated before, or shown interested in having a romantic relationship. This was mostly because of him focussing on college. However, Roman Prince and Patton Foster had got it in their heads that Logan was insecure about his weight. Which he wasn’t! Sure, he was small and chubby, and did not have the ‘ideal male body type’, but he wasn’t worried about it. He definitely wasn’t wearing a baggy sweater in the middle of summer to hide his belly and love handles…

Anyway, the point was, Logan was on his first date ever. He was going out with Virgil Storm, who he’d met on a dating site. Virgil had dark skin, black hair which he’d dyed purple, and wore the same baggy black hoodie with purple patches in all the photos on his profile. He liked many emo bands, and his favourite movie was A Nightmare Before Christmas, and he said he was looking for a guy who was smart and could keep him grounded. The two had messaged for a while, before arranging to meet up.

So here Logan was, sat alone in a booth in a coffee shop, waiting for Virgil to arrive.

Then, suddenly, Virgil stepped into the shop. Logan’s face drained of any colour it had.

Due to the high Florida summer temperatures, Virgil had his hoodie tied around his waist, and was wearing a purple Fall Out Boy tank top and black denim shorts. This clothing revealed something that had not been clear on his dating profile: he was ripped.

Logan should have ran. Maybe if he slid down under the table, Virgil wouldn’t see him and would just leave. Yes, that’s exactly what Logan would-

Too late, Virgil had seen him and made eye contact. Now he’s coming over. Oh dear god.

“Hey, Logan. I, um… It’s nice to meet you in real life properly.”

“Uh… Hi.”

Wow, great start, Logan. Perfect. Fabulous.

Virgil took a seat opposite Logan, scratching the back of his head. “So, erm… Nice place you chose. You want a drink? I can buy.”

Logan smiled. “Really? Thanks. Just a black coffee, please. Oh, and maybe…” He trailed off, catching himself. “Nevermind.”

“What is it? I don’t mind getting you more if you want it.”

“No, it’s okay, really, I- “

“Logan?”

Gosh, why was Virgil so darn pretty? There’s no way Logan could not listen to him.

“Well… they do some really nice chocolate cake here.”

Virgil smiled. “Got it. I’ll be right back.” He got up and headed to the counter.

Logan let out the breath he totally hadn’t been holding to suck in his stomach. Okay, he had to make sure not to demolish the slice of cake when he got it. Eat it slow so Virgil didn’t think he was a pig.

He was honestly surprised, though. He had had no idea Virgil was ripped! It wasn’t clear in any of his photos, and he never mentioned working out or anything like it when they were texting. It wasn’t a bad thing. In fact, he was, to put it as Roman would, ‘flaming hot’. The problem was it didn’t do a lot for Logan’s self-image.

Which he was perfectly confident with, by the way!

Totally.

Virgil came back a few minutes later with two black coffees and the slice of cake Logan requested. “There you go.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

Virgil sat back down. He paused. “You know if you’re hot, you could just take off your sweater.”

“Huh?”

“You’re sweating a lot. I understand sweating from the nerves caused by a date, but this is on a new level.”

“O-oh, um…” Logan bit his lip for about the tenth time that day. “I, uh, I’d rather not…”

“Why?” Before Logan could respond, Virgil spoke and answered his own question. “Oh, wait, I understand. It’s like a comfort or safety item right? I’m the same way with my hoodie. It’s boiling hot, but I still brought it with me. It’s like a constant. Everything around you is changing, but you’ve got something that won’t change unless you want it to. For me my hoodie, for you that sweater. I did wonder why you were wearing that sweater in all the photos in your profile.”

Logan nodded because that was definitely true, not because he was constantly trying to hide his gut.

Virgil smiled reassuringly. “In that case, I won’t force you to take it off.”

“Thanks. You know, for understanding.”

“Don’t mention it.”

There was another small silence. Logan picked up his fork and cut off a small piece of cake, putting it in his mouth. It was delicious… but he shouldn’t go straight in for another bite. He needed to make a good impression.

“How’d you know about this place? It’s really nice. Cosy.” Virgil looked around the café.

“I actually work here,” Logan replied, glad to be moving onto a different subject. “Just to get me through college. It’s my day off, and I knew this place is good, so I figured it’d be a nice place for us to come.”

“Well, now I know where to come when I want to ask you on another date,” Virgil smiled a little, looking at the table and fiddling with his hoodie sleeve.

Logan’s face flushed bright red. Well, redder than it already was due to the heat. “Wh-what? Uh, don’t you mean ‘if’?”

Virgil shook his head. “I like you, Logan. I was nervous when we first started messaging, but you really made me feel comfortable with you. Not many people can do that… I want to see you more.”

Logan couldn’t help but smile. “Well… I want to see you more too.”

After he said this, a squeal gained Logan and Virgil’s attention. They looked around, and Logan didn’t know whether to chuckle or groan.

Patton and Roman were sat at a nearby table, watching the two of them. Patton gave a little awkward wave when they were noticed, while Roman grabbed his hand and pulled him over to Logan and Virgil’s booth. Roman slid in next to Virgil, while Patton went next to Logan.

“Hi, Roman Prince, and this is Patton Foster. We’re Logan’s best friends. Nice to meet you.”

“Um, hi. Virgil Storm.”

“What are you doing here?” Logan asked, looking between them.

“‘Dad’ here got worried for you,” Roman replied, gesturing to Patton. “Which is understandable. You can’t trust those dating sights, you might have been being catfished for all you knew.”

Logan rolled his eyes. He guessed they were right… But they could have at least told him they’d be coming!

“So, how’re things going with you two?” Roman asked, leaning forward, elbows on the table.

“Uh, pretty good,” Virgil turned to Logan, giving him a small smile.

“I think better before you two showed up,” Logan added.

“I’m sorry, Lo, I didn’t want to ruin anything. I was just a little worried, that’s all,” Patton replied. “Speaking of being worried, you’re a waterfall right now. Why are you wearing a sweater and baggy jeans in the middle of summer?”

“U-um…”

Shoot.

“Lo, I don’t want you getting heat stroke. You need to take off the sweater.”

Logan looked between Patton and Virgil, feeling his hands shaking under the table. He tried his best to keep his voice steady. “Patton, I would prefer to keep it on- ”

“Logan, I’m not letting you get overheated and dehydrated.”

Roman tutted. “Uh oh, Lo, you got the Dad Voice.” He turned to Virgil. “You do not want to mess with Patton when he’s in Dad Mode.”

Roman wasn’t lying, which was why Logan was so torn. He couldn’t let Virgil see what he really looked like… but Patton would not let him sit there and continue to melt in his sweater.

After a moment of hesitation, he did the only thing he could think of: squeeze past Patton, leave the booth, and run from the shop.

He ignored his friends and Virgil’s calls after him as he ran. He sprinted all the way back to his, Roman and Patton’s apartment. He locked himself in his room, curling up in his bed. Tears streamed down his face. He’d ruined it, he never should have tried dating in the first place, he wasn’t good enough for Virgil, he wasn’t good for anyone...

The next day, Logan was at work, trying his best to avoid looking at the booth where everything went wrong. He had refused to pick up his phone all of the last night and that morning, not wanting to see the countless messages Virgil had undoubtedly sent.

After serving café regular Remy Sleep, Logan turned to the next customer, reciting his usual welcome. However, he only got through, “Hi, what can I- ” when he froze.

It was Virgil.

Oh dear god… Logan was in his uniform, which was a plain polo shirt with the shop logo and a pair of shorts. The outfit very clearly showed his size. He wanted to run, but was frozen with shock.

After a moment, he managed to choke out some words. “P-please, just… just go.”

Virgil looked hurt. “But… if I go I wouldn’t be able to give you these.” He pulled one of his arms out from behind his back, revealing a bouquet of blue and purple flowers.

Logan’s eyes widened. There was no way… After yesterday, and seeing what he actually looked like today, there was no way Virgil could want to give him those.

“Look, I don’t know what happened yesterday…” Virgil continued. “But I meant it when I said I wanted to see you again. Since you weren’t responding to my messages yesterday, I figured I’d come here.” He leant forward on the counter. “If something’s bothering you, you can talk to me, Lo. I really like you. Nothing could change that.”

Logan blinked, feeling tears welling in his eyes. “I… I don’t understand…”

“Understand what?”

“Why you like me! I… Look at you,” Logan sniffled, trying and failing to hold back his tears. “You’re so so handsome, and have the perfect body. Then, compare that to me… Short and chubby. The second I saw you step in yesterday, I thought us being together was hopeless, so I tried to hide it, but I guess I failed. Now you know I’m fat… and I just can’t understand why you still want to go out with me.”

Virgil paused before putting his hand to Logan’s chin, lifting the barista’s head, so they were looking each other in the eyes.

“Logan, listen to me. I couldn't care less about your weight. Stuff like that doesn’t bother me. Sure, I may work out, but that’s just because exercise can reduce stress, and I am an anxious mess. Weight and body shape does not, and will not ever bother me. An anyway… I think you’re beautiful, Lo. Just the way you are.”

Logan gave up trying to hold back the tears. “R-really…?”

Virgil nodded. “The way I see it, a little chub just means you’re nice and soft like a teddy bear. Perfect for hugs.”

Logan’s face broke into a smile. Both he and Virgil started to lean forward, closing their eyes, their lips about to meet over the counter…

“Logan, get back to work! Have you seen the line?!”

Logan cursed under his breath at his manager, eyes opening and wandering to the queue that had built up. “Sorry, I’m on it!”

Virgil stepped back, allowing Logan to take the orders of the people in the queue. About fifteen minutes later, everyone had been served, and no new customers were coming through the door. Virgil stepped forward again.

“Want to have a second try?”

Logan smiled. “I’d love to.”

This time, their lips met as they leant forward.

Logan smiled against Virgil’s lips. He loved his body. And this time, it wasn’t a lie.

Some people I thought might want to see this: @ab-artist, @ravens-rambling, @im-a-queer-fander, @fangirltothefullest, @wildheart49

#body insecurity #chubby logan #sanders sides #thomas sanders #logan sanders #sanders sides logan #virgil sanders #sanders sides virgil #sanders sides patton #patton sanders #roman sanders #sanders sides roman #analogical #fanfiction #fanfic

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minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong · 6 years

Text

Ephemera Chapter Eleven

Ephemera: In art, transitory written and printed matter (receipts, notes, tickets, clippings, etc.) not originally intended to be kept or preserved.

Alternatively, things that exist or are used for only a short time.

Description: Nobody knows who Vante really is. Everything about the popular artist is shrouded in secrecy: from his face to his name to everything in between. After years of working for his art gallery, Y/N feels she may just be the closest thing he has to a friend. Between her success at work and her relationship with campus hot-shot Jeon Jungkook, Y/N’s life has never been better. But is Jungkook truly who he says he is? And who will Y/N protect now that she knows Vante’s livelihood may be on the line?

Genre: Romance, Drama, Fluff, Angst

Pairing: Jungkook x (f) Reader x Taehyung

Word Count: 6.2k

Tags: Non-Idol!Au, Gang!Au, Art History Student!Reader, Film Student!Jungkook, Art Student!Taehyung

Warnings: Swearing and mentions of alcohol, although infrequently

A/N: Woohoo another chapter! I’m really excited for you guys to read this one. These days I’ve been playing around with a Namjoon fic idea 👀 haha so there’s that to look forward to once Ephemera is done! As always, thank you so much for all the love and support. I really don’t feel like I deserve it, but I’m grateful! Please don’t be shy and send feedback, critique, questions, theories, and comments my way. I’ll be sure to respond to all asks I receive within a day of receiving them! Links will be added later!

And again, if you want to follow my Twitter, my username is @/plzpunchmebts. I’m super active over there and hopefully in the future I’ll do some livestreams/chats with you all!

- Mercury

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Weekly updates: Sunday, 1PM (PST)

A palpable hush fell over the room, coating the air in a thick film. Tension built like momentum downhill, sure to snap should anyone clear their throat or set their foot down too loudly. Taehyung stood on the stage, gaze sweeping out across the ocean of people. On his lips, a confident smile that nearly made my heart race. He cleared his throat and fussed with his cufflink once more before releasing a long sigh.

“I have a feeling that big things are coming,” said Taehyung with a smile. “And I’d like to come out from the shadows to be part of them.”

I staggered back just as rapturous applause echoed through the hall. My body felt cold, like all the heat had drained out through my toes. I bumped into a man behind me whose wide eyes showed more concern than frustration at being shoved. I bowed my head and stumbled past him, towards the massive closed doors. My vision was blurry and it took me several bracing moments in the hallway to realize that it was because I was crying. My throat was so tight it was a labor to breathe and despite the hallway being relatively empty due to the speeches, I still felt like I needed to run someplace, find a closet or something where I could be alone.

But before I could take even a step, I felt a hand on the crook of my elbow and I turned to see Jungkook with wild, wide eyes and flushed cheeks. I tried to discern any measure of anger in his expression, but found only bewilderment.

This had been Taehyung’s plan all along, huh?

Draw Jungkook out, have me play assist, and take the wind out of his sails by revealing his identity himself before Jungkook had the chance to use it against him? Knowing he’d only follow me, knowing that if the invitation came from me Jungkook would trust it…

It’d be genius if it wasn’t so cruel.

“Did…Y/N, did you know?” he asked, breathless as he turned his eyes toward me.

I shook my head, wiping my face wildly and pulling back fingers stained black with makeup. “I-I…he told me to be in-in the ballroom for the speeches and-and…,” I couldn’t finish the sentence for my sobbing.

In the end, I’d been another pawn in their game.

Just like always.

Jungkook scanned me and slowly his expression turned serious. He furrowed his brow and nodded. “You’ve been watching me for him?” he asked.

I sniffled, gasping as my tears stole my breath. “Yes,” I choked out.

Jungkook sighed, gripping his nose bridge, and slowly released his grip on my arm. “How much do you know, really?” he watched me from above like an inquisitor, like any reaction I had would be marked and recorded.

I shook my head again. “I-I…I know you were u-using me to spy on Vante,” I said, raking my fingers through my hair, undoing hours of work I’d spent on the style.

“And?” he asked, eyes flashing between mine. “This is important, okay? Did you know why?”

I sniffled and shook my head. “No…,” I said, calming down the longer I looked at the autumn brown of his eyes.

He sighed and nodded, leaning away and rubbing his jaw. “Okay…okay, okay, okay…fuck!” he shouted, kicking a silver trashcan so it fell onto its side, spilling its contents onto the carpeted floor.

I jumped, a little gasp escaping me. Everything seemed so strange, like it wasn’t real. I felt delicate. I felt like one wrong move and I’d break for real. Jungkook, noticing my reaction, turned to me with wide eyes and approached me too quickly. I stumbled back a half-step, but my heel caught in the train of my dress and I fell straight on my tailbone. Crying out in pain, I winced and squeezed my eyes shut.

Jungkook looked horrified above me, brows knitting and hands outstretched like he might have hugged me if he could. His eyes were glassy. “I-I’m not…I’m not gonna hurt you-,” he began, but his words were cut short by the large door from which we’d emerged sliding open once again.

And from that door, Kim Taehyung.

Upon taking in the scene before him, Taehyung’s eyes went wide and his jaw clenched. Without a second thought, he lurched toward Jungkook and grabbed him by the collar, roughing up his suit. I stared from the floor, all the strength I’d summoned to come here in the first place fleeing through my cold fingertips. My tears were still wet against my cheeks, and as Taehyung’s nostrils flared I watched Jungkook go slack in his hands.

“What the hell’s wrong with you, huh? You still gonna act like a thug at a black-tie event?” asked Taehyung, spitting his words.

I came to my senses and jumped to my feet, quick to run toward the boys and paw at Taehyung’s suit sleeves, desperate to stop him before anyone got hurt. “Taehyung stop! He didn’t do anything-,”

“Feeling betrayed because she lured you here?” asked Taehyung, soliciting a glare from Jungkook that only made him chuckle. “Well, you can only use a person so long before they snap.”

“Taehyung,” I said, warning in my voice, yanking him by the arm.

But he was stronger than me, resisting my force. “What’d you think, huh? She’d come running to you after all you’ve done?” he asked, smirking. Something dark swam in the browns of his eyes. “Stupid.”

“Taehyung!” I shouted, forcing him to look at me as I furrowed my brow. “He didn’t hurt me. I fell on my own,” I said. I gripped my nose bridge, my tears having temporarily taken a hiatus, and sighed. “If any of you would just listen to me-,”

“Vante?” asked a deep, male voice from the ballroom doors.

I turned to meet the person, Taehyung still poised with his arms on Jungkook’s lapels, and saw someone vaguely familiar. It took me several moments of squinting to remember who it was. With a start, it came to me: the man from the club. The one whose suit I’d ruined. Tonight he wore an impeccable set, wide shoulders and clean lines, black-and-navy pinstripes. He looked like someone out of The Sopranos. I swallowed hard and glanced up to see Taehyung also frozen.

Jungkook, using the distraction, shook Taehyung off with a scowl, straightening his jacket. He wouldn’t look at me. But when his eyes met with the man’s they went wide and he scoffed, crossing his arms.

That’s right. He was supposed to supply Jungkook with tickets to this event…

Who was he then?

Taehyung turned to him with a polite grin, dusting off his jacket. “Hello,” he said gently, bowing.

The man held out a hand for Taehyung to shake and the two exchanged a smile. “It’s an honor to finally meet you,” he said, then laughed. “And to think, here of all places.”

Taehyung raised his brows. “I…don’t follow?”

The man laughed. “Oh, pardon me. I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Younghoon from Sanyo Industries.”

I stiffened, edging closer to the exit. It seemed Jungkook had the same idea, and the two of us took tiny steps backwards while Taehyung and this Younghoon conversed. I eyed him sidelong, and this time he finally met my gaze. He lifted his brows and swiftly glanced toward the large glass doors behind us, leading to freedom. Like an invitation to run with him.

This time, I took it.

As silently as we could, the two of us slipped out into the blistery night. I watched as Jungkook eased the door closed with a cringe, likely praying it wouldn’t make a sound. With a sigh, he stood up straight once the door had clicked back in place, patting his pants down as they’d gotten mussed up during his scuffle. And then suddenly, we were alone once more.

I wrapped my arms about myself and shivered, glancing to the side toward the bustling street. At the other entrance, guards still maintained their post. I fished around my bag for my invitation and found it once more. At least if I had to, I could return to the gala.

Jungkook was the first to break the thick silence. “So…Vante knows we’ve been watching him.”

I nodded, sighing. “You can’t be too mad at me,” I said with a shrug. “You have been manipulating me for three months.”

All was lost anyway. At this point, my relationship with Jungkook was unsalvageable, if that was even something I wanted at all. And I wasn’t so sure if I wanted to associate with Taehyung anymore. For someone who was so very appalled by Jungkook using me, he sure used me with ease…

Jungkook nodded, running his fingers through his hair. “Fuck…,” he whispered with a sigh.

I nodded. “Yeah.”

He glanced up at me, scanning me. “Will it mean anything if I say how deeply sorry I am?”

I shrugged. “I dunno.”

He nodded and rubbed slow circles into his sharp jawline. “Wanna get something to eat? There’s a McDonald’s a few blocks down,” he said, jerking his chin toward it.

I sniffled, rubbed beneath my eyes, and nodded. “Yeah.”

I sat with my lips wrapped around the straw of my milkshake, eyes faraway as they settled on the worn plastic table separating me from Jungkook. He barely touched his chicken nuggets, and a large order of uneaten fries sat between us. All around, people bustled and chatted. It seemed we were the only two in the whole place that were melancholy enough not to eat the food we ordered.

“Everything’s kinda gone to shit, huh?” asked Jungkook quietly, poking a nugget with his slender index finger.

I nodded. “It was unsustainable anyway, wasn’t it?” I asked with a sigh, taking a sip and shutting my eyes. “All the lies had to come out eventually.”

“I’m surprised you’re not more mad,” said Jungkook.

I opened my eyes to look at him and he seemed near tears himself. I simply sighed. “I was mad,” I said with a nod. “At first, I was really mad.”

“And now?” he asked, eyeing me.

“More than anything…hurt,” I said with a nod. “I really loved you, Jungkook.”

“I know,” he said with a sigh.

I shrugged. “But then I realized…I didn’t even know you to begin with. The person I lost when I realized you’d been lying to me…didn’t even exist to begin with.”

“Don’t say that,” he said quietly, shaking his head.

I rested my cheek in my hand, the laughter and the yellow fluorescent lights nearly drowning out my voice. “If it hurts you so much, why did you do it?” I asked. “To ruin Vant-er, Taehyung?”

Jungkook sighed and pushed his nuggets away altogether, leaning back and crossing his arms. “It’s not Vante we were after.”

“We…I’ve known for a while, but Seokjin is in on it too, right?” I asked, raising my brows.

He nodded. “I shouldn’t be telling you this since you’ll tell Vante but, since we’re fucked anyway…,” Jungkook said with a sigh. “It’s my job. Seokjin recruited me after my dad…,” he began, then sighed and waved his hand. “Anyway, Seokjin poached me off the street since I was doing…some unsavory work at the time and told me he could give me safer work.”

I furrowed my brow. “What kind of work?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Usually petty shit. Scouting out a rich woman’s cheating husband, helping local gangs defend their territories, blackmailing company heads…not particularly legal, but we’ve done some job for city police officers so they turn a blind eye.”

“We…?”

“There’s a lot of us. Like…ranks,” he said with a shrug, glancing to the side at a couple sharing a Flurry, smiling as they talked in low, intimate tones. “I’m high up. So is Seokjin. I mean, he kinda has to be since he’s our founder.”

I nodded, sipping the thick milkshake. I felt like I might puke. “It’s not legal…,” I urged.

He chuckled, and for some reason his smile put my stomach at ease. “Of course not,” he said, glancing at me with that same smile.

I swallowed, running a hand through my hair. “I…see…”

“Do you hate me now?” he asked quietly, almost a whisper.

I stiffened and glanced at him. Vulnerability made his eyes glassy and his cheeks flushed. “No, Jungkook,” I said, rubbing my temples as a tension headache began to grow. “If I did, my life would be much easier.”

He nodded. “I understand,” he said. “And…if you weren’t such a good person, you wouldn’t even be giving me the chance to explain. I feel like even now…I’m taking advantage of you.”

I sighed. “I’m here willingly, Kook. And besides, I think after all this I deserve some answers at least.”

“There’s a lot I can’t tell you,” he said, shaking his head. “About why we targeted Vante, about who hired us. I could lose a lot more than money. But…I’ll answer your questions as well as I can.”

I pushed my shake away. “Did the guilt make you crazy?” I asked.

He stiffened, like I’d surprised him, and cleared his throat. He rested his cheek in his hand and looked down at the table, avoiding my eyes. “Every day.”

“Why didn’t you just…stop then? At any point?” I asked. I chewed on my cheek, old hurt seeping through my voice. “I saw your texts with Seokjin while we were visiting my dad. He gave you an out.”

Jungkook’s eyes flashed up to meet mine before quickly departing. “I…I knew that once the job was over…I’d have to stop all communication with you.”

“Are you even a student?” I asked.

His eyes went wide. “O-of course!”

I nodded. “That’s good then,” I said.

“But…,” he hedged, scratching his arm. “That class we took together…I only took it because you were taking it.”

My eyes went wide. “E-Excuse me?” I asked, heart thundering.

He groaned, lolling his head back. “God, it’s all so shitty,” he whined. “We have an intel agent who’s, like, godly at hacking. He…got your schedule and Seokjin pulled some strings with the registrar to get me in.”

“It was all…all a lie?” I asked, tears brimming once more.

He sniffled, rubbing his swollen, red eyes. “Yeah,” he said, and it sounded like a cry.

I wasn’t sure why a wave of fresh hurt washed over me, sweeping me away in the undercurrent, but my stomach was twisted in knots and my heart ached like I’d been punched. “I…I don’t think I can see you again,” I said, sniffling.

Jungkook’s eyes darted back to me, wide, worried. The color had drained from his face. “What?”

I shook my head. “I…I think it’ll hurt too much to see you,” I said, meeting his eyes. My throat constricted at the pain in his face. “Even looking at you right now,” I began, voice cracking, “I feel like I’m falling apart.” I covered my lips with my hands as more tears streaked down my cheeks.

Jungkook’s lips were agape, eyes wide, and slowly he nodded. “Ah…y-yeah, I…I understand. I did really shitty things t-to you. I wouldn’t really…wanna be around someone like that,” he said, laughing lightly as he rubbed the back of his head and looked away. It was clear he was holding back tears, and for that I was grateful.

If he cried, I knew my resolve would crumble at my feet.

I sniffled, using the McDonald’s napkin to dab my tears, and nodded. “I-I want you to live a good life, okay?” I asked, reaching out to grab his hand in mine.

He glanced at me with knitted brows and nodded. “I will,” he said, voice strangled in his throat.

I smiled, standing to my feet. “I’m gonna go back to the gala,” I said with a sigh, patting my dress as I sniffled. “I’ve got a lot of questions for Taehyung.”

Jungkook stood quickly, our untouched food forgotten, and stared at me, eyes wide. “I can walk you!”

“Jungkook-,”

“Please,” he said, brows knitted, imploring me.

I shut my eyes with a sigh and shook my head, turning on my heel. “Fine,” I said, already halfway to the exit.

The walk back to the venue was long and silent. Old blisters from weeks of working in bad pumps pressed against the thin straps of my new shoes. I’d taken only a brief moment to fix up my makeup in the McDonald’s bathroom, but I knew it wasn’t really salvageable. Like many things, there was no way to bring it back to how it was before.

We approached the entrance once more and, with my eyes on the concrete below my feet, I turned to Jungkook and bowed my head. “Thanks for walking me,” I said quietly, scratching at my arm as my gaze darted around.

Jungkook cleared his throat. “Ah…yeah. Um, thanks for…letting me.”

I nodded, finally lifting my gaze to find him staring down at me. I forced a smile. “Thanks for the last few months, Jungkook.”

He nodded, cheeks red and eyes still glassy. “Mhm,” he said, gently reaching out to take my hand. I let him. “If…if nothing else, I want you to know I’m sorry.”

“I know,” I said, scanning him as he watching his nimble fingers tracing my skin.

“It doesn’t change anything, does it?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No.”

He sighed, shutting his eyes. “I…I could leave it behind, you know.”

I stiffened, staring at him with wide eyes. “You could what?”

He met my eyes, thick brows knitted, and nodded. “I could quit.”

I swallowed hard. The selfish part of me longed to tell him to do it, to encourage him to leave the bad work in the past, to move forward being good. But…then I remembered a few clues. He’d mentioned his mother having to work because his dad wasn’t the best. He said something about his dad before, about when he was working on the street…

Did he have any other options?

I clenched my free hand around my clutch and exhaled, long and slow. “Jungkook…,” I began, eyeing him. “Is that what you want to do?”

He opened and closed his mouth a few times before sighing, running a hand through his hair. “Is it what you want me to do?”

A dark nostalgia washed over me. Wasn’t this eerily similar to that conversation we’d had before? When he asked if I was unhappy? “I…I want you to,” I said, then shook my head. “But that’s been a problem all along, hasn’t it?”

He glanced down at me, vulnerability in his eyes. “Huh?”

“You’ve always been tailoring yourself to me,” I said, unlacing our fingers so I could press a palm to his hot cheek. “Because you needed me for the job…you’ve molded yourself into my perfect guy. I wonder if you’ve ever been alone with yourself long enough to know who you are.”

He furrowed his brow. “Are you saying it’s okay if I keep working?”

I sighed, letting my fingers feather across his jawline. “I’m saying that what I want more than anything is for you to know yourself well enough to know what you want.”

He inhaled sharply, shoulders pinching, and took my hand once more, pressing it against his lips without moving them. “We’re gonna have to find a new angle since Vante’s out,” said Jungkook, lifting his eyes quickly toward mine. There was a hunger there that made my heart race. Hungering for what?

“I figured,” I said with a nod. “Are…are you gonna hurt anyone? Doing this?”

He sighed, shutting his eyes and resting his lips once again against my knuckles. “I hope not,” he began, shaking his head. “But there’s no victimless crime.”

“And you’re okay with that?” I asked, quiet.

He swallowed hard. “Have to be.”

Before I could say another word, a couple of guests stumbled out of the door behind us, clearly inebriated as they were escorted out by security. They fell in heaps on the concrete outside, mumbling as they dusted themselves off. And, like a broken spell, my senses returned to me and I slowly pulled away, letting my hand drop to my side. Jungkook opened his eyes to look at me, and there was a sad understanding in the way his eyes narrowed slightly.

I shook my head, watching the ground. “I’m gonna go inside.”

“Alright.”

“I…I think it’s best if you lose my number.”

“I understand.”

“And,” I said, taking a half-step back toward the venue, tears making my throat constrict, my voice heavy, “please take care of yourself.”

He nodded, smiling softly, and raised a hand to wave me off. “I will,” he said.

“Goodbye, Jungkook,” I said, voice barely above a whisper.

He turned halfway toward the street and nodded his head once, still smiling, before turning on his heel and retreating down the sidewalk with his hands jammed into his pockets.

It took me a few quiet moments standing dumbly outside the Exhibition Center to realize he didn’t say it back.

When I returned to the ballroom I saw Taehyung surrounded by swarms of people, his cheeks flushed as he smiled brightly for each of them. Quietly, I ordered a drink from the bar and took a few sips, watching him from a distance. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say to him. Not only had he been lying to me, he’d taken advantage of my relationship with Jungkook to further his own agenda. While I would have been supportive from the start, the deception was what bothered me. And something else, something deeper.

The lack of agency.

I felt much like a chess piece being forced across the board by many, invisible hands.

As Taehyung chatted, I saddled up to a barstool and sat down, rubbing my sore ankles with a wince. “Rough night?” said a voice from beside me.

I opened my eyes and glanced toward the voice. A young man, maybe a few years my senior, with warm brown eyes, sideswept silver hair, and dimples on either cheek gazed at me gently. I bowed my head in greeting which he returned. With a sigh, he shucked off his coat, seemingly having just arrived at the bar himself. He waved over the bartender who was quick to fix him a drink, not even asking his order once.

Another important man.

I scowled and nursed my own drink, sipping lightly. “You can’t even begin to imagine,” I said, frowning at the amber liquor.

He laughed. “Try me,” he said, still smiling. “Tonight hasn’t really been my night either.”

I eyed him. The idea of someone else being just as miserable as me was enticing. “How so?”

He hummed and took a deep swig of his drink, cocking his head to the side before shrugging. “Well, I found out some concerning news about my friend,” he began, counting on his fingers as he went. “I bought this new suit for tonight, but the sleeves are too short.” I chuckled, relief streaming through my veins as a brief flash of comfort came with it. He smirked. “And nobody even cared about my speech because of Tae-er, Vante,” he said.

I rolled my eyes. “Wasn’t even that good of a speech,” I mumbled.

He laughed. “You don’t like him?”

I shook my head. “He’s my friend,” I said, then sighed. “At least he was. Turns out he’s been keeping a lot from me.”

“Ah,” said the young man with a knowing nod, tipping his drink against his lips. “You didn’t know?”

“You did?”

He gave me a wink over the rim of his glass. “Of course,” he said, then leaned closer with a smile. “I knew him before he was Vante.”

I stiffened and turned toward him, giving him my full attention. “You did? How?”

“We worked at a bookstore together-god, was it five years ago? He was eighteen,” he said with a scoff. “Couldn’t even describe the amount of stars in his eyes. The optimism kinda got beat outta him those days, working all day and night. But he kept at it.”

“It paid off,” I said.

“And then some,” added the man with a laugh, swirling his drink in his hand. “He helped me when I was really struggling. Anyway, he’s a good friend. Maybe my best friend.”

I eyed him. “And…he’s a good person right?” My voice was small as a mouse.

The man laughed, shaking his head at me. “What would ever make you think he wasn’t?” he asked. “Taehyung is one of the best people I know.”

I sighed, relieved. “And I can trust him?”

The man smiled at me, giving my upper arm a brotherly pat. “He’s still young and headstrong, maybe a little hotheaded…but I’d trust him with my life.”

I nodded, offering a smile. “Thank you,” I said.

He shook his head, and seemed about to speak again, but noticed something behind me that made him quickly stand to his feet. He was tall and lean, more imposing than he seemed sitting, and he quickly collected his things to leave.

He gave me a quick grin before patting my shoulder. “I gotta blast. Man of the hour’s coming this way and I’m not feeling quite ready to face his fan club.”

My eyes went wide and I turned to find that, indeed, Taehyung was making his way over toward me, surrounded on all sides by guests who simply wouldn’t leave him alone.

I returned my attention back to the man and gaped as he began rushing in the opposite direction, waving over his shoulder. “Traitor!” I called after him, to which he only laughed and jogged away, his jacket draped over his forearm.

As Taehyung finally approached me, I was quick to stand myself, facing him with a cocked brow as the crowd parted to make way for me. “Hey,” he said, breathless, with a smile.

I nodded, eyeing the group around him. “Quite the celebrity.”

He chuckled and rubbed his neck. “I guess so,” he said. “We…uh, we should talk, huh?”

“Yeah,” I said, smiling at the group as I wrapped my fingers around Taehyung’s bicep. “Pardon me, but I’m going to have to steal Mr. Vante for a few minutes.”

A few in the group chuckled, good-natured as they likely wanted to make a good impression, and I led Taehyung by the arm toward a less crowded corner of the ballroom. Far from prying eyes and ears, the two of us stood close as he offered an almost bashful smile. Gone was the cocky, angry guy who had nearly caused a fight with Jungkook only an hour earlier. In his place, a blushing boy who couldn’t so much as look at me straight on.

“So you’re Vante?” I asked.

He chuckled, nodding as he glanced at his polished black shoes. “Yeah,” he said, then snapped his eyes up to meet mine, worried. “I’m sorry I lied! I just panicked because I didn’t want you to think I was creepy.”

“And now?”

He chuckled and looked toward the portraits on the wall. “Well…now there are things that I need to protect and this was the only way I could do it.”

“Protect what?” I asked, surprised by my own stern tone.

He turned wide eyes to me as I crossed my arms. “Well, you and…other things,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t wanna involve you anymore. I’m assuming you saw Jungkook out?”

I nodded, eyes drifting to the tiles below my feet. “Yeah,” I said.

“That must’ve been hard for you.” There was a tender understanding in his voice, like he knew.

“You didn’t make it much easier,” I said, shaking my head. “Seriously, Taehyung? Attacking him out there? What was that about?”

He shook his head. “I thought he was hurting you,” he said, brows knit.

“He wouldn’t do that. And besides, I kept trying to tell you-,”

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, once again cutting me off.

I stiffened, holding in my breath for a moment before exhaling slowly. “It’s…fine,” I said with a shrug. I turned to him once more. “What’s not fine, though, is what you did tonight. You didn’t tell me anything. You let me lead him here, blind, and made me a pawn.”

“You weren’t a pawn-,”

“Honestly, is that all it was about tonight?” I asked, scoffing as I leaned away. “You said it was about me getting revenge, but as far as I see it, you’re the only one who benefited.”

“Benefit?” he asked, furrowing his brow. “Do you know how long I’ve been guarding my identity? Do you know how much my privacy means to me?”

I eyed him. “I don’t,” I said, some of the anger leaving my voice. “But the way I see it, you won at my expense. You took away Jungkook’s angle. The only thing he could have possibly had on Vante was the fact that his identity was a secret. Without that, you’ve made yourself untouchable,” I said, shaking my head. “And I was just a means to an end.”

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, frustration clear in his face. “Why are you being like this?”

“Don’t like it?” I asked, cocking a brow. “You’re the one who’s always saying I need to advocate for myself.”

“Listen,” he said, calming down slightly as he rested his palms on my shoulders. “I get that you’re hurt. I shouldn’t have lied to you for so long. And I should have consulted you about the plan. But I knew you wouldn’t be able to reckon with your conscience if you knew you’d be ruining his job and getting him in real trouble, so I had to keep it to myself. But don’t say that I’m the only one who benefited,” he said, eyes imploring me. “You proved you’re not someone to mess around with. And you showed him that you were the one playing him.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and glanced away, rubbing beneath my eyes. “I don’t want to play people, Taehyung.”

“What exactly did you think was going to happen tonight?” he asked softly.

I blinked at him, thinking. “I…guess, maybe we’d…call him out or something? Lure him here and…,” I trailed off. Truthfully, I hadn’t even really paused to consider it. I was too intoxicated by the idea of exacting revenge that I never even asked how we’d do it.

Taehyung sighed. “I’m truly sorry,” he said, and I knew he was sincere.

He’s still young and headstrong, maybe a little hotheaded…but I’d trust him with my life.

I sighed and my arms fell to my side along with my defenses. Slowly, I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around his waist, resting my cheek against his chest. Stunned at first, it took Taehyung a few moments to return my embrace, but when he did it was warm. He rubbed circles into my back as I struggled not to cry.

“You did really well,” said Taehyung quietly against my hair. “I know it must have been hard to say goodbye to someone you loved a lot.”

I nodded. “Yeah…,” I said quietly. But something was still nagging at me.

Agency.

After all, wasn’t I still just a tool to both of them?

Slowly, I pulled back and smiled gently at him. “Sorry I got mad,” I said.

He shook his head. “Don’t be. I’d be mad too,” he said with a laugh, gently rubbing beneath my right eye with his thumb, likely removing stray makeup.

I sniffled and glanced back toward the heart of the ballroom. The music was still playing softly, and a few drunk guests were swaying around one another. A few of them caught Taehyung’s eye and began moving toward him. Again, I understood that young man’s urge to run. Patting his chest, I slipped past Taehyung, on a beeline for the exit.

“Wait! Where are you going?” Taehyung asked, turning his torso my way.

I chuckled. “Outside,” I said, jerking my head towards the group approaching him. “I don’t think I’m the one they wanna see.”

Before Taehyung could protest, he was once again swarmed and I used his momentary distraction to slip outside, finding myself beneath an awning once I’d left the infamous hallway. I sighed and wandered through the courtyard, past closed shops and dark windows. I paused in an alcove beside the massive SMTown sign that lit up the night sky.

I glanced down toward the building’s entrance and found a figure I vaguely recognized. Jacket-less and tall with spindly limbs, it was the same man from before. I took a few steps toward him, my heels clacking on the ground. I was surprised he didn’t notice me.

Quietly, I approached him with a smile. “K-pop fan?” I asked once I’d reached his side.

He jumped and turned to me with wide eyes, an unlit cigarette hanging between his teeth. “Jesus! Scared me,” he mumbled with a laugh. He raised a lighter to his cigarette and, shielding it with his left hand, struggled to light the end.

I smiled. “Let me,” I said, grabbing for the lighter and angling myself between his cigarette and the breeze that kept snatching his light. Within a few seconds, his cigarette was burning and his eyes were wide, smiling gently.

“You smoke?” he asked, raising his brows.

I laughed. “No,” I said, cracking my knuckles as the two of us stood side-by-side in the empty walkway. If I just took the stairs hidden to the left, I’d be at the subway station, on my way home. “I grew up on a ranch out in the countryside without a lot of modern appliances so I know my way around a lighter.” The man gave me a puzzled look and I chuckled.

He nodded, taking a puff and blowing it out into the night. “Well, at any rate, thanks.”

I shrugged. “Don’t mention it.”

“Did you get to talk to Taehyung?” he asked.

I sighed, watching my hands as I played with the latch on my clutch. “Kinda.” The more I thought about it, the more annoyed I became. Hell, what kind of conversation was it if he wouldn’t even tell me what he had to protect?

The man laughed and eyed me in the navy darkness. “Don’t sound too pleased.”

“Because I’m not,” I said, sighing. “He’s keeping things from me.”

“Are you two that close?” he asked.

I shrugged. “I dunno. Doesn’t really feel like it,” I said, then glanced at him. “I work at his gallery, but he invited me tonight because of some shady shit my boy-er, ex-boyfriend was doing.”

He raised his brows. “You’re Y/N?” he asked, eyes round like saucers.

I stiffened, leaning away from him slightly. He didn’t give me any creepy vibes before, but now in the dark, looking at me in awe with a lit cigarette dangling in his lips, I wondered if I’d been naive to be so trusting.

“Y-Yes?” I asked.

He laughed and my worries were dispelled. He patted his thigh with a disbelieving scoff. “No fuckin’ way,” he said, taking a drag and eyeing me from above. “Well, isn’t this just serendipity?”

I glanced at him sidelong, brows knit. “Have you been looking for me?”

He shook his head. “Nah, just that Taehyung told me about you and your,” he paused to clear his throat and give me a smirk, “ex-boyfriend.”

“What?” I asked, stunned for a moment. “He’s been telling you?”

“Well, it does involve me,” he said, then furrowed his brow. “Hasn’t he told you about why they’ve been targeting him?”

I raised my brows. “No. Nobody will tell me anything.”

The man nodded and smiled gently, glancing back at his wristwatch with a cringe. “Shit, I’ve gotta get back in there. A host can’t be gone too long,” he said, smirking. He fished around in his pocket for a moment before producing a business card. “If you want someone to tell you what’s really going on, give me a call.”

“Host…?” I began, but before I could say much else, he’d turned on his heel and made it several paces away from me, leaving me with the lingering scent of nicotine and confusion. “Wait!” I called, watching his back retreat.

I was about to go after him, but paused beneath the scant light to read his business card, hoping to call him by name. But as I did, I got the sinking, ominous feeling that I was about to become even more enmeshed in this intricate mess.

Kim Namjoon

CEO and Founder

Ori Technologies

XXXX Yeongdong-daero, Gangnam-gu

Seoul, South Korea

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makeste · 6 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 050: Hunting Down Villains

Previously on BnHA: Deku and Gran Torino had a fierce fucking fight, during which Deku successfully utilized One for All LIKE A MAN, bouncing all over the damn place and increasing his body’s strength and speed. It was very badass, and he even managed to graze Torino’s cheek, although he was tired out afterward. Over at the Villain Bar, Stain rassled with Tomura and lightly stabbed him a bit to test his mettle, and apparently he was impressed enough to hold off on killing him for now. Then he headed back to Hosu, presumably to fuck up Iida’s shit ffffff.

Today on BnHA: Deku and Gran Torino hop on a bullet train trip to do some training in the city. Iida’s field training mentor Manual warns him not to try anything stupid like hunting down the guy who maimed his brother. Stain and Tomura arrive in Hosu. Tomura is annoyed and craving some mayhem, so he goes and summons THREE FUCKING NOUMUS to go wreck some shit. Deku and Gran’s train is attacked by one and Gran flies off to fight it. Iida spots Stain about to kill a dude in an alley and ignores everything Manual said and goes to confront him, announcing that he’s the hero who’s come to take down Stain in his brother’s stead: Ingenium.

(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’ve read up through chapter 123 now, so any ETAs will reflect that.)

apparently we’re already on day 3 of the internship! we’re also just about a quarter of the way through the whole series now which is also cool!

this chapter is titled “Kill ‘Em Dead” so. that promises to be fun

looks like Deku has gotten his ass kicked again. but he wants to keep going!

“time for phase two... the actual internship!” oh yeah, that. I was wondering if he was ever going to actually do something hero-related. he hasn’t gotten much in the way of practical day-to-day experience thus far

off they go to hunt down some villains

bad villains, really bad villains, talkative villains, mysterious villains, fabulous villains, lame villains, surprise villains, tragic villains... there are a lot

Deku doesn’t think his heart is ready for this. even though he already fought like three of the worst ones out there

even Gran points that out, and says this won’t even come close to how bad that was. well, good

(ETA: this just goes to show that YOU CAN’T SEE THE FUCKING FUTURE, GRAN TORINO)

apparently there isn’t enough crime in this quiet neighborhood, so they’re taking a taxi and then the bullet train

there’s a whole map explaining where they are in Japan, and I’m ashamed that I don’t know enough about the geography of Japan for it to mean much to me. I do know that Shibuya, where they’re headed, is basically the Times Square of Tokyo, though

apparently they’ll be passing through Hosu on their way, which gets Deku thinking about Iida again

he’s thinking to himself that maybe he’ll get in touch with him later, so clearly something terrible is about to happen

“meanwhile in Hosu City” oh lord. bracing myself

the guy Iida’s interning with is apologizing that things aren’t more exciting. but Iida says it’s better that way

because this guy was not, in fact, born yesterday, he finally asks Iida if he’s after the Hero Killer. since it’s pretty obvious that this kid, who recently tied for third place in the sports festival and is the younger brother of a bigshot like Ingenium, probably had a few more exciting prospects than his little agency

he’s telling Iida not to be motivated by personal grudges. I’m sure Iida will take all this to heart and drop the whole thing immediately

actually that’s interesting to hear that they don’t have authority to make arrests. basically they just capture the bad guys and then let the cops and the courts deal with it from there

(ETA: although the way this rule is applied at the end of this arc is frankly mind-boggling to me. it should have been “thank you, children, for apprehending this serial killer who’s been terrorizing the country, and for saving Apache Chief’s life. we’re incredibly grateful to you and so very sorry that we fucked up so badly our own selves so as to make your actions necessary to begin with.” but nooooo, they get chewed out for having the fucking gall to take action in a life or death situation. and they’re told their actions can’t ever be made public or else they’d have to be punished since they broke! the! rules!! oh gosh. really the cops just didn’t want to deal with this on top of everything else and this was the laziest way they could sweep it under the rug.

sorry for that impromptu rant lol.)

Iida says he appreciates the warning. like I said,this gives me a ton of confidence that he’ll just go ahead and let this go

he is staring off into the sunset and clenching his fist

this kid got bitten by the vengeance bug real bad

now we’re back on top of that water tower where Kurogiri first met up with Stain

for whatever reason, Tomura has decided to tag along

“sacrifices” oh lord

Stain says the title of “hero” should be reserved for only the truly great, and that too many of them are just in it for the money and are undeserving

(ETA: Stain’s Annoying Rant Counter: 4)

now he’s jumping off, presumably to go kill some more of those money-grubbing heroes

as soon as he’s out of earshot Tomura immediately starts dissing him

(ETA: it’s amazing how much I sympathize with Tomura in this arc)

but Kuro says the other cities Stain has appeared in have actually seen drops in their crime rate, and that it seems to tie in with “an increase in hero awareness”

Tomura’s like, great, isn’t that the exact opposite of what we, the evil villains, are shooting for

and he wants Kuro to bring out Noumu so they can go on their own rampage

wtf. Noumu who’s supposed to be in police custody right now?

yeep

oh my god, fuck you and your s-less plurals you stupid misleading sneaky Japanese language

so these guys just have Noumus by the barrel, just lying in wait ready to be used at a moment’s notice, then??

THREE FUCKING NOUMUS

one of the Noumus has FOUR FUCKING EYES because WHY NOT

so basically these guys are their fucking Sentinels

back to Deku and Gran on the train!

it’s going to be nighttime by the time they make it to Shibuya. awesome. Gran is happy because there should be more crime to put a stop to now

oh my god Deku is waiting for Iida to reply to his text. omg. I’m having a “millennial reads a gen z manga for the first time” moment once again

FIRST OF ALL, I didn’t post the panel right before this, but basically Gran is like, “ON YOUR PHONE AGAIN?! KIDS THESE DAYS,” and OH MY GOD. GRAN IS LITERALLY NINETY PERCENT OF ALL BABY BOOMERS I’VE EVER MET

SECOND, DEKU HAS HIS READ RECEIPTS ON BECAUSE HE DOESN’T TRUST HIS FLAKY CELLULAR NETWORK

THIRD, HE HAS A PICTURE OF ALL MIGHT AS HIS OWN TEXT AVATAR, I AM FUCKING DONE. FOREVER!!

also, Iida read that shit and didn’t say a damn thing. that’s some shady fucking shit, Iida. up to no good

(ETA: I would also like to take this opportunity to complain about this translation, because in this version Deku has abbreviated the word “you” as “u” and ARE YOU KIDDING ME Deku would never)

oh shit they’re making an emergency stop

IS IT VILLAINS, IS THE TRAIN BEING ATTACKED

...okay yeah, I would say that is a yes.

yep. same

oh SHIT, it’s the Noumus. of fucking course they got those guys rather than Stain

so Deku immediately recognizes the familiar exposed-brains-and-vacant-expressions aesthetic, but before he can do anything, Gran shouts at him to stay put. and now he’s springing off into action

fucking shit. even All Might was only just barely able to beat the last Noumu, and that was with him using his full power and then some

oh shit the train hasn’t stopped yet!

shiiiiit

DAMMIT GRAN YOU SAID THIS WOULDN’T BE AS BAD AS LAST TIME

so now Deku, looking out at the city which is aflame, realizes that they’re still in Hosu, and...

and now we’re cutting back to Iida and his pal. and his pal is telling him to get a move on and that they need to head toward the scene, but all of Iida’s attention seems to have become focused on this random dark alley nearby, and now he’s taking off in that direction

(ETA: what a fucking coincidence though that Stain just happens to be in the alley right next to them though. like, come on)

and it’s Stain... he’s looking towards the explosions? presumably? and complaining to himself that “that idiot” is being too flashy

so the explosions were what was drawing the attention of Iida’s hero pal, but Iida himself probably saw this guy. and just ran over without thinking

I mean, Stain’s clearly about to end this guy though

the poor hero dude apparently can’t move. just like Kurogiri in the last chapter

and Iida’s appearing in the frame behind Stain now

oh godddd

GHKHHKHFKH

LOOK AT THAT. GLASSES CAME FLYING RIGHT OFF. WHAT DID I FUCKING SAY EARLIER

now Stain is asking Iida who he is. does Stain not watch the U.A. Sports Festival broadcast along with the rest of the country

wow he’s telling Iida to leave

I left out “honorable villain” from my previous list of villain types, but this guy increasingly seems to fall under that category

(ETA: nope, already had him covered under “talkative villain”)

hoh boy Iida has his rage face on

but while he’s busy being dramatic, Stain cuts him off and points his katana right in his fucking face omg

he says he can tell from his eyes that he’s out for revenge. OH CAN YOU. YOU DON’T SAY. THOSE EYES, REALLY? THEY’RE SO FRIENDLY THOUGH

“watch your mouth or your age won’t be enough to save you”

I didn’t mention this before because I was too caught up in everything, but Stain must be the first ever person in history to look at Iida fucking Tenya and immediately think, “child”

maybe it’s the lack of glasses. if Iida still had his glasses on he’d have immediately been pegged as forty and would now be fucking dead

now Iida’s pissed off all over again because Stain doesn’t consider him a threat

look at this fucking monologue

IS HE GONNA TAKE HIS BRO’S NAME AFTER ALL OMG

HE TOOK HIS BRO’S NAME

and Stain is all “oh really? time to die then”

and the chapter ends

why are heroes so brave and stupid

BONUS:

oh cool, I think this is Iida’s hero pal and I was wondering what his name was

“Manual” omg. like manual as in training manual? instruction manual?

“favorite things: equilibrium.” favorite color: beige. favorite food: oatmeal. favorite musician: phil collins

I actually love him now and I hope we get to see him more and that he somehow manages not to become collateral damage during this arc

#bnha #boku no hero academia #makeste reads bnha #gran torino #midoriya izuku #stain (bnha)#shigaraki tomura #iida tenya #manual is the fucking best though #no pretensions to him whatsoever #just a simple guy living a simple hero life #favorite sport: golf #favorite word: the #favorite appliance: dishwasher

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hockey-jews · 6 years

Text

For anyone who wants to learn more about Judaism! Also, kind of a post about how to deal with some Things and Stuff. This is a long post so I’ll put it under a read more for those interested:

This is really for an anonymous message I got that described struggles with things that I think many of us struggle with or have in the past: not being “Jewish enough” in the eyes of other Jews due to your heritage being on the “wrong” side (read; on your father’s side), yet still experiencing antisemitism from goyim. Not learning very much, if anything, about Judaism as a child but wanting to learn more as an adult. Not being comfortable with some traditions or laws of Judaism because you are a) a feminist b) LGBT c) an atheist. Living in a place with few to no Jewish spaces. Not feeling welcome in the Jewish community due to any or all of these things.

Book recs!

If you’re the kind of person who enjoys reading (or can at least tolerate it) I highly recommend these books! They’re all books that I have either read/started reading/or plan on reading. (Please keep in mind that none of these are Jewish texts such as the Torah or the Talmud and that I do understand the importance of such religious texts but am not recommending them because I feel those are obvious sources of information)

A Bride for One Night if you aren’t familiar with the Talmud, it’s a collection of writings and explanations of Jewish laws and traditions and it’s old as balls. The author of this book, Ruth Calderon, takes a bunch of Talmudic stories and makes them into these wonderful beautiful stories that are easier to read than the original ones from the 3rd and 6th centuries. Even if you don’t know anything about the Talmud this book is so fascinating and fun to read.

The G-d Who Hates Lies is literally perfect for you if you have issues with how women are viewed and treated in the most traditional sense of Judaism. It’s a really great criticism by people who are extremely qualified to make those criticisms (both are rabbi’s and I think they both have doctorates in theology, specifically Modern Orthodox Judaism, which makes for a really cool viewpoint). I can’t find anything about the third author of this book, who is a woman, but it’s comforting to know that a woman had a part in this as well. Obviously these people love Judaism, they just want to see it adapt to modernity. Just in general it’s a really thoughtful book that challenges dogma.

Jewish Literacy was recommended by an anon (thank you!) The rest of the title is “The Most Important Things to Know about The Jewish Religion, Its People and Its History” so like. Ya get what ya see here folks. HOWEVER I did see a review that mentions there is some Islamophobia and hostility towards Jews who are antizionist. It does genuinely look informative and I haven’t read it myself so I can’t attune to whether or not that review is accurate, but maybe be cautious if you read this in knowing that the author may not be objective.

Book of Mercy made me openly weep and feel something tender and weird in my heart and like. Okay so it’s not informative so much as it’s a book of poetry by Leonard Cohen (he was Jewish if you didn’t know!) He calls his poems “modern psalms” and honestly this would be a good read even if you aren’t religious at all because his writing is just so gorgeous. But it does have references to Judaism and his identity as a Jew

Understanding Judaism is really a “building blocks” kind of book to me, if that makes sense? It’s really informative but also really basic and is fantastic for people who know very little about Judaism or just want a well presented understanding of the core aspects of the Jewish religion. Even if you aren’t a Jew who’s looking to learn or someone who is considering conversion it’s still a good book if you’re interested in world religions regardless of your faith or lack thereof. (man I’m starting to sound pretentious lmao I just mean like, if you’re an atheist or Catholic or whatever, it’s pretty interesting and also this guy is kinda dorky-funny so it makes for an easier read than some other books about religion)

Shmooze I think this is meant to be more for a group to read an discuss, and like, also maybe meant for a younger audience (I’m talking about teenagers so not really that young, but if you’ve been reading dull infodumps by 90 y/o Jewish rabbis with doctorate degrees this is gonna be a change of pace lmao) I should mention that I’ve only read like two pages of this book because I saw it at Barnes and Noble and just kinda briefly checked it out so I don’t know a ton about it but it stuck in my head and the reviews look positive so

Obvious I don’t think you have to read all of those because I haven’t even read all of those so maybe just check one of them out if it seems like it could be helpful to you.

Judaism here on tumblr dot com:

Okay so like. This is really my personal diced onion so take it however you will but keep in mind that this really only reflects things I’ve come across and how I feel.

Obviously there are a lot of really great blogs about Judaism but I don’t have any specific ones to recommend I’m sorry :O I really really hate ~Discourse~ and like, in-depth arguments about the Holocaust because I get so wrapped up in it and let’s be honest, tumblr is all about the discourse and ignorance. That being said, I like to follow other people who are Jewish and blog about whatever because that usually leads to safer discussions and also is a great way to find really helpful thoughts and discussions by other Jews about topics like being LGBT, being a woman, being an atheist, etc. These are just nice to read and also if you aren’t familiar with certain Yiddish or Hebrew terms that are commonly used it’s a good way to see how and when they’re used in certain contexts.

I’m going to tag anything like this that I post here as “good info” just so me and anyone who wants can find this stuff easier. No they won’t necessarily have anything to do with hockey.

Also please be very careful when you’re reading a post that is presenting certain things as facts, always double check what someone is saying because misinformation is spread so quickly, and it’s almost always unintentional. The things that I find genuinely helpful/safe/fun involve opinions, common feelings and experiences, little personal stories and jokes, cool stuff like that.

I’m Jewish on my father’s side :0

Me too boo. Unfortunately that’s an unending discussion, and one that is often held by matrilineal Jews and doesn’t actually include patrilineal Jews, nor does it consider our thoughts/feelings/experiences. Without sounding like an idiot, it is absolutely buckwild to me that there are people who have been raised Jewish, have never known anything other than Jewish tradition, have been subject to antisemitism, but still aren’t considered Jewish.

And then this is where I see matrilineal Jews who hold this viewpoint bring up Reform Judaism, which is one of the three main branches of Judaism and does recognize patrilineall Jews as Jews. I’ve seen some discrepancy as to whether or not patrilineal Jews had to have been raised Jewish in order to be considered Jewish. This is all well and good for Jews like me whose family practices Reform Judaism, but for patrilineal Jews who wish to practice in an Orthodox or Conservative synagogue, it gets tricky.

Basically, yes this is a huge topic that inspires a lot of disagreement, and that sucks, but here’s what it comes down to. No one else is allowed to make you feel inferior because of your heritage. So many people, even modern Orthodox Jews, recognize that certain aspects of Judaism need to adapt to today’s society. I don’t want to offend anyone here, but I really do feel that most matrilineal Jews who don’t consider us Jewish are extremely hypocritical (for a lot of reasons but mostly like...y’all really follow every aspect of Jewish Law? Like do you really? All of it? Girl do u? Or are you maybe just being elitist). Learning about your heritage, talking about shared experiences, combating antisemitism, these are all things that are fair game for you (especially for the anon who said they were atheist) and going to Shabbat services, praying, participating in holy days. That’s all yours if you want it, bubbeleh.

Can I be an atheist Jew?

Sure you can! I, personally, am not an atheist so I wasn’t comfortable finding specific resources about this because I don’t really know much about it? It’s fine with me if you’re atheist that’s none of my business, I just don’t want to direct you to a bad source. But yes, many Jews are atheist, many are secular, I’m sure there are many here on tumblr. It’s absolutely okay, Judaism is an ethnoreligion, and while you may experience Judaism different than the rest of us, you’re still a Jew and still belong.

Here’s an excerpt from a short lil synopsis of Judaism:

These three connotations of Judaism as a monotheistic system, as a literary tradition, and as a historical culture are sometimes viewed separately. For example, there are Jews who see themselves as culturally Jewish, but who are also non-religious or atheist, often identifying more strongly with Jewish “peoplehood” than with traditional understandings of God and Torah. Even so, all Jews would recognize that these three points of reference have shaped and guided Jewish experience through the ages.

Jewish “peoplehood” that they talk about is like. Culture, customs, food, art, history, etc.

One last little note on this, you’ll hear a lot that Judaism focuses more on actions than on beliefs. This is an excellent article that is pretty short and worth reading that I want to include because I think that even if you don’t believe in G-d or even if you are seriously questioning, the focus on just. Doing good. Actively doing good things and trying to be a good person (I know that’s objective but bear with me) is a such a huge part of Judaism that you can try to incorporate into your life without having to subscribe to any sort of dogma or beliefs that you don’t hold. “Judaism is certainly a faith-based tradition. Belief in G-d is central to our religion. It just isn’t a prerequisite. If you are Jewish, you are so regardless of belief.”

But I’m a feminist....

As you should be. This is probably another personal statement you gon’ wanna take with a grain of salt, but I think Judaism, especially in the last 50 years or so, has made huge strides in this. Especially Reform Judaism, but that kind of goes without saying.

Example, my synagogue was founded as a Conservative synagogue. Our website still says we are. I’m not actually sure tbqh, like I said, my family are Reform Jews, and so are most other families in our congregation I think but this is literally the only synagoge for like hundreds of miles so. Anyways our rabbi is female (Rabbi Shaina!) and she does great work, we all love her. She’s really adament on teaching kids that gender shouldn’t keep you from anything, that Judaism is for all Jews, that it should enhance our lives. She wears a tallis, lays her tefillin, and reads from the Torah.

My point here is that while this isn’t like, the end of misogyny in Judaism as we know it, it’s still a big deal in most religions to have a woman as their religious leader, essentially a position of religious power. For men to accept a woman as a religious leader is not something that is super common in most religions. And we’re like, a tiny congregation over a hundred miles away from anyone else, technically a Conservative synagogue, that’s super loving and accepting of a feminist running our shit... female rabbis are super common and I think it speaks a lot to how we’re progressing as a religion. Reform Judaism is going to be your best bet when it comes to tolerance but knowing that all three of the main branches are progressing, at least with this, is really comforting to me.

However, that’s an extremely one sided view and doesn’t really show the issue as a whole. This super short article (? not sure) is a bit pessimistic in my mind but presents the other side of things and gives a good explanation of the traditional sources of misogyny in Judaism, so this could further your understanding as well.

By no means are we perfect but we’re workin on it. Look into Jewish Feminism though, if you have the time. That article is just a lil intro to the topic.

I’m Q*eer/LGBT and I’m not sure y’all are gonna be cool with that...

Well this one’s a doozy.

I’ll kick this right off by presenting an article that is objective and does not reflect the author’s opinion, just lays out the issues at hand. It also has some links to other good pieces, including one cool story about a transgender man, Rafi Daugherty, embracing his role as a father and details his experience with pregnancy and giving birth. I should mention that I am cisgender so I’m interpreting this article through a different point of view, but it really does make a point of celebrating Rafi and his daughter and sharing their story. It does include a little cultural background context, but this is a positive story that I think deserves to be shared :)

Then there’s this statement from the Religious Action Center of Reform Judaism that confirms its absolute acceptance and support of LGBT Jews.

On the other side of things, there are still homophobic and intolerant Jews. Conversion camps were not just a Christian thing, there were Jewish conversion camps as well, which is horrific. Idk what to say because I think homophobia and transphobia in Judaism is really similar to what you would find in Christian settings.

I’m bisexual and I feel completely welcomed by other Jews who know this about me, and I certainly don’t feel any less Jewish because of it.

I live in a place where Jewish spaces are rare.

I really hate to disappoint with this one but I don’t have any specific sources or anything like that. Alls I got to say is that’s why the internet is so great? I really don’t feel like that’s helpful at all, but I think for the most part, the Jewish side of tumblr is pretty accepting and welcoming. Obviously that’s not always gonna be true though idkdjaskfl;dj

I spose with this one I wanna encourage anyone who has any good resources for involvement or something like that to reply to this post or drop by my inbox and let me know! Or maybe just your thoughts on some Jewish spaces you’ve encountered?

I hope this was helpful

In conclusion, don’t let anyone make you feel less Jewish. Your sexual identity, gender identity, and even your belief in G-d doesn’t take away from your Jewishness. I’d like to say that since I started delving into Judaism a little more I’ve found a lot of peace. And yeah that sounds cliche and also vague but it’s really a breath of fresh air to learn about my family and know more about this community. Also if you’re comfortable with or willing to try prayer, even if you’re atheist, it can be a good way to decompress sometimes, a really therapeutic kind of way to voice your thoughts and feelings and reflect on them.

There’s so much information and culture to delve into but it’s so so worth it to learn and I’m really happy for you that you’re interested in getting more in touch with your Jewish roots.

If any of these links don’t work and you’d like to see them let me know!

#this took 78 years sorry #ok for anyone to rb #there are TYPOS galore I'm sorry #judaism

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hyyunjinn · 7 years

Text

Things I Love About Stray Kids (2/∞)

a/n: hello, this is gonna be a series now because 1) I’m really happy this week, like I legit haven’t been this genuinely happy in a long time and 2) I love them more than I thought sO HERE WE GO AGAIN!

Chan

okay, this is sad but, the fact that he believes he’s the only one who carries the team? he’s blaming himself for the eliminations and didn’t even want to rejoice with everyone else because he wanted them to forgive him first. like no chan, it was never your fault--you already do so much for the team and everyone knows that. but it’s definitely admirable

HIS FRIENDSHIP/RELATIONSHIP WITH THE REST OF JYPN IS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL, PUREST THING IN THE ENTIRE WORLD U G H HE’S LIKE THE LITTLE BROTHER OF EVERYONE WHILE HE’S ONE OF THE OLDEST IN HIS GROUP LIKE YES WHAT A CONTRAST IT’S SO CUTE

that *O* face he does is super cute yo

hiS CURLY HAIR IS S U C H a look

“i really love you guys”

^^ gave me a heart attack

HIS HAPPY CHEESY SMILE ALSDFJLASDF THAT COMPLETELY LIGHTS UP HIS FACE

his awkwardness lmao

hello can we have a mini series of chan’s kitchen please

Woojin

“HI HELLO”

^^ HE ALREADY SAID THAT MULTIPLE TIMES AND ALSDFJSD SAME BC IDK IF THAT’S A REF TO DAY6 OR NOT BUT THE WAY HE SAYS IT IS SO CUTE

yo his killing parts in aLL THE SONGS S I G H

i love watching him perform

um, his model poses are--ACTUALLY ALL OF HIS SELFIES AND NON-OFFICIAL PHOTOS ARE SUPER CUTE YO HE’S CUTE

giving his pizza crust to chan slkfjdasfd

HIS FOREHEAD YO

that dark blue, red cuffed plaid flannel he wore last ep? A BLESSING

he seems so insecure ever since the “not a main vocal” criticism and like? he’s working so hard? so fill up his role because he feels like he doesn’t uphold it? like idk what “not a main vocal” means but i just want everyone to appreciate how much he’s taking care of himself to improve

Minho

HELLO MY BABY IS BACK AND GONNA BE IN THE CENTER FOR THE DANCES AND BE SLAYING YO THIS ISN’T EVEN THINGS I LOVE ABOUT SK ANYMORE IT’S ME YELLING ABOUT MINHO’S FXKN COMEBACK BECAUSE DO YOU SEE THE TEASERS FOR NEXT WEEK--SUCH AN AMAZING DANCER I LITERALLY CANNOT TAKE MY EYES OFF OF HIM

SUCH A POWERFUL VISUAL HE ALREADY GOT TWO FANSITES--HYUNJIN IS SHAKING

he, can dance to Lie, Begin, Dope, Blood Sweat and Tears, Spring Day, idk probably all BTS songs w h a t t a l e n t

HE EVEN APPEARS LIKE THREE TIMES IN AN OFFICIAL BTS PHOTOBOOK LIKE I STAN A LEGEND

okay but also, we have to talk about that brown jacket/striped shirt look he wore last ep bc it iS C U T E

he’s also that lowkey weird that if you don’t catch it, you won’t know so he passes off as the normal one of the group and it makes it x4837234 more funnier

did I already say this a millio--I LOVE EVERYTHING AND EVERYTHING AND EVERYTHING ABOUT HIM

him giving up on Felix’s Korean

also, the fact that his earrings are just these black circles and tbh it’s sorta hot b y e

bonus: i miss him so much and i really really really i need more content of him and get to know him better before i combust

Changbin

is so willing to help everyone in the group oh man he’s so kind

doesn’t even get mad when everyone picks on him and just goes along with it

I KNOW EVERYONE HAS SAID THIS BUT IT’S AMAZING HOW HE COMPLETELY DESTROYED HIS “DARK CONCEPT” IN THE FIRST EPISODE AND NOW EVERYONE IS JUST LIKE “CHANGBINNIE YOU’RE SO CUTE I LOVE YOU”

goes with the flow of things so well--he gets along with everyone pretty nicely and I think that’s pretty cool

“AH”

tbhlowkeysortadonewithjypbutthatsjustwhatithinksodontquotemeonthis

H I S B O Y F R I E N D O U T F I T S man changbin stans how you doin

what was that extra pose when taking a picture like klasjdflskadf

WHAT WAS THAT POST ICE SKATING DATE PIC WITH HIM ON THE TABLE

Hyunjin

PHOTOGRAPHER!HYUNJIN MY ABSOLUTE FAVE CONCEPT

like laying on the ground for the perfect angle? wHAT A MOOD

wait, fanboy!hyUNJIN WHEN HE JUST OBVIOUSLY STARES AT JINYOUNG OH MY GOSH YOU COULDN’T BE LESS OBVIOUS I LOVE THIS KID

how he wants so badly to improve? i really admire how much effort he’s putting into his rap and it’s really amazing to watch and hear the improvement since hellevator

“YAH”

he seems like he has his life together and has a pretty nonchalant facade but seeing through the cracks of his insecurities makes him so human and like him so much more than i think i would?

HE’S ALWAYS DANCING HONESTLY THAT’S SO CUTE WHAT A NERD

UM HIS GIGGLES GET ME EVERY TIME PLEASE STOP A T T A C K I N G ME HONESTLY

ASKLDJF GOTTA BRING THIS BACK BUT WHEN HE JUST SLIDES AND OPENS HIS MOUTH FOR CHAN TO FEED HIM WAS SO FUNNY I’M NOT OVER IT

Jisung

that fKN KILLING PART IN YOUNG WINGS LSKADJFALSDF AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

THE LITTLE GIGGLE HE DID AT THE END OF STRAY CUTS 4

he’s so bright and happy and optimistic everyone needs a Jisung in our lives

casually just smushes his face into the camera so i can see his pretty eyes duh thanks kid

okay but when he was singing that parody of Don’t Wanna Cry he did this little thing to his vOICE THAT SOUNDS SO AMAZING I CAN’T GET OVER IT LIKE LAKSJDFLASDF WTF TA L E N T

he’s so annoying i love him asldkfjasdf like idk if i like him behind the cam and annoying his members or on screen doing something weird honestly probably both

THAT PICTURE CHANGBIN TOOK OF HIM BITING THE CHAIN LSKADFJSDF EWWW LMAO

WOAH WHEN WE SAW A GLIMPSE OF PRODUCER JISUNG THAT WAS SO COOL

no but seriously? he’s so optimistic and supports everyone and he’s so wonderful and kind and super talented but i think we know that and s i g h i hope ya’ll appreciate this mess of a boy bc OH MY GOSH I FORGOT TO MENTION THAT I LOVE BRACES JISUNG HAHAHAHHAHAHA

Felix

honestly, i really just like his black hair and i think ya’ll should know this

he’s such a hard worker?? when he showed us the time at 5 in the morning--I have a feeling he stayed up that long rather than waking up at 5 kid don’t do that it’s not healthy but! he’s doing so much and it’s amazing

OKAY BUT LIKE, THAT PLOT TWIST OF THE CENTURY WHEN HE TOLD CHANGBIN TO KISS HIM LIKE ALSKDFJSLDF MINHO WAS SO READY TO STRANGLE HIM ONLY FOR HIM TO BE LIKE “hyung kiss me” alskdjfasldf what is with him

“annyeonghaseyo“ in thAT DEEP VOICE OF HIS BABY OH MAN WHAT A WAY TO COME BACK

his orange smile laskfjdlasdf

him adjusting jeongin’s outfit was so cute hehe

the way he clings onto jisung is super cUTE UGH THEY’RE LIKE ATTACHED BY THE HIP AND IT’S SO CUTE idk if it’s bc they’re a day apart so they’re like “WE’RE TWINS NOW” or bc jisung can speak english apparently? something like that?

i think people forget that he’s more than just a meme and a deep voiced boy? i love watching him practice dancing in the background and like? he’s part of dance line? LET ME SEE HIM DANCE MORE OMG

ASKLDFJSDAFL WHEN HE MESSED UP ON THAT ONE WORD AND MNET HAD TO EDIT IN THE MISSING CHARACTER ASKLDFJSD THAT WAS SO FUNNY YOU WERE SO CLOSE KID

Seungmin

HELLO THIS IS MY UNDERRATED BABY WHO DESERVES THE WORLD bc he’s funny as heck guys why do you not notice this

honestly im gonna say it agaiN: HIS FACIAL EXPRESSIONs especially when he has that dumb dazed look askldfjasdf what a boy

messes around with Jeongin in the back

when he cornered jeongin u H

he writes things in his journal to improve! and he is!

i really hope he stands out a little bit more when he performs! i hope he’s working on it! but I also like how if you are a seungmin stan, you’ll notice the small things he does when he performs and it’s like a little secret only people who deserve to know, knows and he knows it’s just between him and his fans saklfjsadf

when he decides to be a lil sht like that one time chan and hyunjin was arguing and he’s just like “we’ll take three ramens and a packet of dumplings” or something like that

can i just say that his clothing style is probably my favorite because i gush about each outfit he wears like all the time?

he’s so into singing and you can see it every time he does and it’s wonderful

Jeongin

WHEN HE WAS CRINGING BECAUSE OF HIS PARENTS: WHAT A MOOD

WHEN HE GUNNED HIMSELF BECAUSE OF JISUNG’S KILLING PART: WHAT A MOOD PT 2

WHEN HE ESCAPED JISUNG’S WRATH AND RAN TO THE OTHER SIDE AND CHEEKILY WAVED AT HIM: WHAT A MOOD PT 3

his escalator impression was hecka nice

OKAY WE BARELY SAW IT BUT LIKE? THE FACT THAT PEOPLE ARE FINALLY PRAISING HIM BECAUSE HE SPENT ALL THOSE TIMES PRACTICING BY HIMSELF TO STRENGTHEN HIS VOICE I’M SO PROUD OF HIM

this baby always has a smile on his face and it’s the most infectious smile ever and i love him i love him please stay as happy as you can be because you deserve everything and more

*screeches* HIS BANDANNA LOOK IN SCHOOL LIFE KLASDJFASD I LOVE IT SO MUCH

when he was all shy shy with all the girls screaming his name at the busking: tag yourself i was the girls spiritually yelling his name

hAH I ALSO SEE THE BLACKPINK FANBOY IN HIM OHOHO THAT’S SUPER CUTE

#stray kids #cici's stray thoughts #things i love about stray kids

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mirrorballparkers · 7 years

Text

museum dates — peter parker

requested: nah. idea popped up into my head randomly.

tagged: @ttholland @t-oodles @cmonspiderling

- yo so i fucking am a god damn art geek myself, so why not write this? also, i am SO SORRY that it’s been so long since i’ve posted any fics. i’ve just had a lot going on personally, and also had a lot of job interviews (I GOT A JOB !!). not to mention i’m taking a college placement test this week so i’m just a mess. but, i digress. ENJOY THIS FIC! thanks for being patient, lovely humans.

warnings: a shit ton of fluff and a reader who legit has NO CHILL and peter is such a soft, sweet human bean.

summary: cute art headcanons with peter parker

- you grew up on art. always going to the local art galleries to discover new artists and collect some of their paintings and sculptures

- you’d always gush to peter about a new art piece you bought or a new artist you discovered

- “babe! oh, my god, look at this new Élisabeth Vigée Le Brun piece i got !! isn’t it absolutely alluring?”

- you’d sometimes feel bad that you geeked out so much, but peter thought it was so adorable. you had so much passion in your eyes, voice, and physicality it made his heart go fucking wild.

- “keep going, pumpkin. tell me more please.”

-when he told you that he got the two of you ticket to the museum of modern art

- your heart busted a nut

- you literally smothered peter with a bunch of kisses, so happy and thankful that he would do something like this for you. it wasn’t very cheap to visit museums these days.

- peter thought you geeking out was so cute

- he researched for hours and hours to find the best museum just for you

- when you got to the front entrance, you couldn’t wipe the smile off of your face and you were jumping up and down like a little kid because, actual nerd

- “HOLY SHIT. peter, this place is so beautiful. the detail, the atmosphere, my heart is bursting right now you don’t even know how excited i am right now. this is the best day ever. ”

- peter would just be looking at you with heart !! eyes !! because you were so cute and this genuinely made you happy and excited.

- he was very proud of himself for researching until 4 am on a school night for the best museum in new york

- you were more excited to be with peter though just sayin’

- when you saw him looking, you got a little embarrassed

- “sorry..didn’t know i was acting so childish”

- you calmed down

- for 0.5 seconds until you two entered inside then ya heart went ‘SKRRRAAA PAP PAP PAP PAP PAP’

- you held onto peter’s arm and you were like: !!!! looking around at everything

- it was so mesmerizing !!! like you had never seen a place filled with such unbelievably beautiful pieces your heart busted a nut !!!

- peter would sling his arm around you and kiss your head like a soft cutie

- he was usually too shy for that shit, he prepped himself in his head

- ‘don’t be a pussy, she’s your girlfriend just do it. YOU’RE SPIDERMAN.’ he’d tell himself in his head

- walking around the museum and honestly your heart was busting a nUT everything was so mesmerizing and PERFECT.

- you’d jump up and down like an actual child holding on to peter’s arm as you’d hand the lady in the front your tickets.

- bragging that peter bought you these tickets TO RANDOM ASS STRANGERS THAT CLEARLY DIDN’T GIVE A FUCK BUT YOU WERE SO BLESSED

- “hi, yes my cute ass sweet ass boyfriend bought me these.” you’d say while doing finger guns.

- “YO, LADY WITH THE CHURRO: MY CUTE ASS PRETTY BOYFRIEND BROUGHT ME HERE AND BOUGHT THE TICKETS, ISN’T HE GREAT? yeah, you don’t have to tell me i know bitch.”

- taking those typical pics where you’re standing in front of some art piece !!

“should i put a hand on my hip..?”

“maybe like idk uh just stand still. pretend you’re just posing for a picture.”

“but how will i know you already took it? i don’t wanna be standing here forever, pete. there’s a whole bruce nauman exhibit with my name on it.”

- peter would make a clicking noise for you to know when he took it so you wouldn’t be standing and hurting your feet. he was a considerate boy.

- he thought you were so cute !!! screw the painting, you were the actual art

“ ew my hair looks weird here let’s take another”

“shut up you look cute af babe”

- peter was whipped so he did as u asked n took more for u cuz the more photos of ya cute ass he would be able to have in his phone and show aunt may how pretty u looked after the date

- “no,no, delete that it makes my butt look bad.”

- peter would blush n shyly say

- “but u have a cute butt…….” bRO

- he wasn’t lying homie thought ur butt was cute

- Even though u would get a lil embarrassed you’d start to get a little more confident and feel ya selffff

- “okay out all the 60 that i’ve taken of u doing cute lil poses i think we have a winner. ALL OF THEM, YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL.”

- you’d gasp every single time u saw a sculpture or a painting, anything

- “babe look at this one !!”

“ooh look at this one lOOK AT THAT DETAIL AND TEXTURE”

- peter giving you all kinds of sweet kisses to assure his feelings for you

- cheek kisses

- nose kisses

- temple kisses

- FOREHEAD KISSES

- he’d even pull you to a corner to low key make out with you

- SO !! MUCH !! KISSES !! AND !! HUGS !!

- peter would hold your hand to his heart and just smile, feeling so warm and happy he was with you

- getting yelled at for touching things

- sassing the workers for getting yelled at for touching things under your breath

- “ the fuck? you don’t tell me what to do fuck you.”

- peter would calm you down but inside he’s like “that’s my baby girl !!”

- linking pinkies as you walk through all the exhibits

- peter wouldn’t even be paying attention to the art

- he dead ass would be just looking at you the entire time, so !! in love !!

- “why’re you not looking at this Ian Chung piece babe?”

“why go to an art museum when i can just look at you for art.” he just !! said that !!

- you’d get all shy and shit

- “aww, my pretty girl.”

- he’d always check to make sure you were hydrated

- “babe you want some water? i haven’t seen you have water all day and i just wanna make sure.”

- “wanna stop and have some water?”

- “do your feet hurt? it looked like you were limping just now.”

- he felt like he was bothering you, but really you were really tired and sore, possibly dehydrated from the hours and hours of walking.

- “i think we should sit down, sweets.”

- you’d finally agree after he told you that you looked kind of pale, so the two of you sat down on a bench and you rested your head on his lap as he played with strands of your hair

- before aunt may picked you guys up, you two went to the gift shop

- you bought so !! much !! amazing !! things !!

- peter lost you at least 3 times

- he kind of lowkey panicked every single time because you were his precious daffodil and he’d freak out if he lost you

- “hey, where’d you go?”

- “daffodil, you need to stop wandering.”

- “bABE, IF YOU WALK AWAY ONE MORE TIME"

- you picked out cute matching rings, even though it was incredibly cliche.

- you had at least 5 items in your hand: a coffee traveling mug, a shirt, magnet, and two hats. you didn’t need two hats bitch what the fuck.

- peter wouldn’t dare to let you spend all that money on you

- “peterrrrr, it’s fine i have money. you’re already buying the rings!”

- this soft boi was too stubborn and bought them for you anyway

- “your total is 32.50.”

- “pETER WHAT THE FU-”

- you’d already put the hat on the second you walk out the gift shop and peter thought it was so cute, so he snapped a picture without you seeing it and captioned it as: ‘she’s so extra, but i like her a lot so it’s fine.’

- putting the matching couple rings on for each other as if ya’ll were about to fucking get married.

- taking snaps of each others hands with the rings and putting dorky captions

- your whole body was aching from all the walking so peter would be all cute and give you a piggy back ride to his aunts car

- when you got in the car, you rested your head on his shoulder completely worn out.

- peter was VERY excited to show aunt may all the pictures he took

- “hon, these are all of her, not the art.”

- “what’re you talking about, may? SHE IS ART.”

- you fell asleep on his shoulder bc it was going to be a very long drive home.

- he’d be very sweet and take off your shoes for you so your feet wouldn’t hurt anymore

- peter eventually fell asleep too, hands intertwined with yours and his heart very full

- it really was a perfect date.

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christophersymes · 5 years

Text

Celebrity Status

Celebrity Status, an ongoing L(G)B(T)+ story also on Wattpad and Quotev.

<-- Previous (Prologue) / Next -->

TW: Brief mention of r*pe

Chapter One

Jules, grinning mischievously, set the game discs down in a row on the hardwood in front of the TV stand. Rosa's heels clicked on the floor as he did and she moved in anticipation of what she was about to do. He set the last disc down gently after kissing it, then stood up to admire the line. His gaze turned to Rosa, who looked down at them, then back up at him.

"Yes, princess, you can go ahead," he said with a flourish and bow, tossing the cases on the floor.

The discs cracked under Rosa's heels as she jumped on them, stomped on them, ground them into the floor. She leaned down and picked up the pieces afterward, too, snapping them and tossing them on the bed. After she'd done that to every single one, she stomped all of the cases, tossing them on the bed as well.

She was fucking ruthless, and Jules loved it. He loved his sister, and that was exactly why he was doing this shit. He stomped the last one before her, his combat boot snapping the plastic case's edge, then kicked it over to her. She did the same, then set it in front of the TV, smiling sweetly.

"Hope you enjoy your gameless existence, you dick," she murmured, already unplugging the Playstation from the TV. "This is what you get for trying to rape me."

Jules felt his stomach fall at her words, but knew it was true. A week ago, he and his friend Sam had walked in on Rosa and Dickwad Josh at a party. Rosa had been trying to push Josh off her, and it took both Jules and Sam to get him away.

As usual, they'd both guaranteed they'd exact their revenge, and make it ten times worse than what they usually did because the guy had almost succeeded.

They showed up at his house when they were sure he was gone, and went inside to speak to his parents. They'd listened as Rosa described what happened, and Jules told them he'd witnessed it and that their son was a dick in the first place too, who would sometimes grope Rosa in front of everyone.

They'd all agreed he needed to learn a very, very severe lesson.

So, naturally, they showed them both up to his room and told them what they could destroy. They both took the opportunity to kill his games, and were now dismantling his Playstation and controllers.

Once they had everything gathered in their arms, they went downstairs and outside. Jules waved a controller affectionately at his parents, who grinned back at him. They'd hated how much Josh played games, anyway, and they were really nice people in a not so good neighborhood. There was a kid down the street who would kill for the console, so Jules and Rosa knocked on the door happily.

"Hi," Rosa said, grinning. "We're from the house down there, the Pinnows. Uh— Well, Josh, their son, he knew that your kid really wanted a Playstation and that you guys couldn't get one, so we come bearing a gift."

They both lifted the console and cords. "It's a little worn, but Josh wanted you guys to have it."

The dad took it thankfully, a little shocked as he laughed. "Holy shit. Thank you."

After a little bit of awkward conversation, they left again, grinning at the good deed they did in the middle of revenge. Jules shoved at Rosa. "You feeling better?"

"Fuck yes. He deserves all this shit. Dick." Rosa laughed, clapping her hands together. She rubbed them greedily. "What can we destroy now?"

"How about slashing his tires? Make him pay, sis," Jules said, passing her his pocket knife. He took her hand and set it in her palm, then kissed her forehead. "Careful, though. We don't need you slashing your hand open."

⧫

Mason Hill moved his head along to the music blasting into his eardrums as he fucked around on his laptop. He was in the mood for going incognito online, wanting to interact with fans without them knowing it was him. He had been hearing about this awesome Nosam forum for a while but hadn't made an account yet. He figured it was time for that to change. He cracked his knuckles in front of his chest and stuck out his tongue, grinning as he saw the first empty text box to fill beside the word Username.

"Easy," he murmured to himself, immediately typing masonfucker1000 into the box.

He frowned at the next prompt. Name? Huh. He drummed his fingers against his leg, glancing at Austin, sitting nearby him on the tour bus. "Dude, what was your middle name again?"

Mason knew his middle name. He just liked hearing Austin say it in his neat little accent.

And wanted to freak him out a little.

Austin gave him a curious look as he stopped playing his guitar, pushing his glasses up. "Elías? Why do you ask?"

Mason clicked his tongue at him, winking. "Nothing important. Nice name, handsome."

Austin opted not to respond, shaking his head and watching him suspiciously before going back to his guitar.

Mason typed Elías into the box. He figured a shit ton of people were 23 and it would be harmless to put that in, so he did that too. He put in a fanart edit of himself as the image— him wearing a flower crown, one of his favorites— and hit Create Account, smiling in satisfaction. He went to the welcome thread to make his first post.

masonfucker1000: hey!! im maybe older than most fans but I just wanted you all 2 know that even though im straight, i would let mason hill do anything he wanted to me

Austin kept glancing up at him, effectively distracted by Mason wanting his middle name for what was probably a horrible reason.

"Seriously, what are you doing?"

"Joining a Nosam forum, obviously," Mason scooted closer to him, moving the laptop close to his face with a flourish.

Austin stared at the screen, looking from the glittery website's title, to the header with their faces, and then to Mason's post. "Why are you always so disturbingly narcissistic to the point where I'm almost certain you'd actually fuck yourself if given the opportunity?"

Mason tilted his head, nodding as he spoke. "Because I would, Ozzie," he pecked his neck and then, mouth at his ear, repeated in a whisper. "Because I would."

Jules, alone in his bedroom after the revenge-destroying, was fucking around on the Nosam forum. As usual. He was one of the top members, had helped design the site as a school project, was friends with about half the people on the site, and loved them all. They were really his only friends, so it was easy to love them all.

He refreshed the page just in time to see a new comment in the welcome thread. No one had joined in a while, so it was interesting. It wasn't exactly the most popular website, so... Oh, their name was Elias... That was Austin's middle name. Maybe he'd finally have another Austin stan.

And of course, they loved Mason. God damn it, everyone did. He sighed but hit reply anyway. A new friend was a new friend.

familyjules: hey elias! welcome to the nosam fanbase!!! also: ew but go off i guess ;)

Mason gasped loudly, falling back against the small sofa. "Ew? Ew?"

He furrowed his eyebrows in concentration as he immediately replied.

masonfucker1000: jules! hi! thanks! also! what the hell! how can you resist the unique and godly allure that only mason joshua hill possesses?

Jules snorted, rolling his eyes. He leaned on his wall as he typed, laughing a little to himself.

familyjules: i'm too entranced by the unique and godly allure that only austin possesses, ....masonfucker1000. i just realized this point is totally moot but i'm still gonna fight it to my dying breath: austin elías salinas vicente is better than mason hill in so many ways but i respect your opinion my dear masonfucker

Mason sighed loudly and took off his snapback, throwing it at Austin, who yelped in surprise.

"What the hell?"

Mason glared at him. "That's for having a godly allure, Salinas."

Austin sputtered, confused.

masonfucker1000: you say you respect my opinion, familyjules? really? u might as well have spat in my face. austin. better than mason. my god. i will try to coexist peacefully with radical beliefs such as urs.

also: is ur profile pic u?

Jules laughed at the dramatics. He hadn't had this much fun meeting someone in a while. They were actually taking his jokes as jokes.

familyjules: thank you for your precious coexistence, fellow radical believer. and yeah dat me

Mason didn't know why the Nosam fanbase just happened to be super attractive, but he always appreciated nonetheless.

masonfucker1000: my dude, fellow believer, may i just say that ur face is v nice to look at. one might even say it radiates a certain godly allure

Jules blushed a little. People had called him attractive before, but not like that. Damn.

familyjules: thank you!! i guess ur pfp is kinda okay to look at... ;)

Mason huffed, pouting. That was just not at all fair. He couldn't even defend his own good looks.

masonfucker1000: ha. ha. so how long have u been into nosam? sorry, i meant: how long have u been brainwashed into thinking nosam was called nitsua?

Jules laughed at that one. It was good. Elias was funny.

familyjules: i actually laughed at that one! nitsua just sounds like a ninja name or something. and i've been into them since their first ep came out! found them on youtube and felllllllll. how about you?

Mason grinned. Hardcore fan. Hell, yeah. Call him a narcissist. Nosam was awesome and superbly talented, and Mason appreciated when other people knew it.

masonfucker1000: me too! nosam sorta changed my life. listen to them way more than a sane person should.

Someone else on the thread pointed out that that page was for welcoming and not conversation. Mason stuck out his tongue at his laptop screen.

masonfucker1000: whoops. heading to gen, familyjules?

Jules sighed a little at the comment, rolling his eyes. He'd made the website. It was his rule. And he'd broken it.

familyjules: whoops. yeah. i'll tag u in a thread

familyjules: @masonfucker1000 here we are. what yt video did you see first?

masonfucker1000: teenage dirtbag cover! iconic as hell. have u ever seen them live? its the most fun i've ever had.

familyjules: hell yes! i love that one! and no ): but i've got tickets to a show this tour and im hype. gonna scream my ass off

Mason's eyes widened. Oh, yes. Mason befriending a fan and that fan attending a Nosam concert? That would be beautiful.

masonfucker1000: really?? where? what day? on the off chance im going to the same 1

familyjules: Traverse City, MI. gonna glitter my face off too i'm gonna look great

masonfucker1000: oh nah not going there! glitter! nosam hype! fuck yeah, i believe u, u already look great as is. michigan, huh? the hell do u do for fun there?

familyjules: hockey, mostly. play bass too. try to run away from my family while blasting pop punk since no one gets me. freeze to death in snow

masonfucker1000: hockey?? ur tiny! i think! bass is rad, how long have you been playing? pop punk is the shit, i get u, bro

Jules smiled a bit. At least he didn't say he was a girl.

familyjules: bet i can whoop your ass even if i am tiny! and ive been playing for 5 years now. lots of nosam covers in the media thread if u wanna check it out! we gots a talented group here

masonfucker1000: i bet u can i can barely hold a stick.

a future seluj! charmed to meet u pre-fame. will def check out.

Mason headed to the media thread and clicked on one of the audio files Jules had uploaded. His eyes widened, and he turned up the volume.

Andrew, who had sat down in the far corner like the fucking loner he was, looked up at Mason as basslines filled the small space. "Hey, who's that? Not Chris, is it?"

Mason shook his head, mumbling, "Fan cover."

Andrew snorted, "Shit. That's good. You should show that to Chris when he gets back."

Mason played a few more covers, very impressed and a little doubtful.

masonfucker1000: c'mon. c'mon, jules. no way that's u.

familyjules: oh hell yeah that's me. ask anyone on here i love playing so much. covered a few starlight songs too but i'm not as good at those yet. are u into them too?

masonfucker1000: sure, sure. u stripped from chris, admit it, jules.

fuck yeah! love those badass ladiesss!

familyjules: whoa, dude, i'd never. if anything i'd strip for austin. if stella wouldn't kill me

masonfucker1000: pipe dream, jules. stella would 100% kill you. and then strip for austin herself.

Jules sighed wistfully at that image. They were both ridiculously hot, and Stella stripping was just a mental image to frame and make lifesize on the mantel above the fireplace.

familyjules: can't even join them? damn. my dreams are gone. can i share mason w/you then, masonfucker? he's the only single one of all of them... wait. does your username mean you're his hand then? shouldn't you have his hand as your pfp?

Mason's jaw dropped. "Holy fuck. I've never felt so roasted in my entire fucking life. Holy shit. Fucking— familyjules," he breathed a laugh, already typing out a response eagerly. Andrew rose an eyebrow at him, an action that Mason didn't even notice.

masonfucker1000: shit! how could u do him like that? he gets plenty of attention other than his hand! lots of it! mason hill gets around! its basic info!

familyjules: ha! uses the other hand sometimes? ;)

Mason lifted his arms behind his head. "This fucker!" he laughed again, rubbing his hands down his face. This Jules girl was ridiculous. If only she knew who she was talking to but... no, not a good idea. He stared at the screen, frowning as he realized he really wanted to keep talking to her, forgetting to respond and tapping his fingers against the laptop. He flipped Andrew off when he kept staring at him, taking the laptop and laying in his bunk instead. He could easily just not respond, like, ever. It wouldn't matter at all. Jules was just some random fan he'd stumbled onto online, who had no idea who Mason was, with whom Mason had only had half a conversation with. Hell, he usually didn't even have more than a conversation with people anyway, always having so many he wanted to talk to. But it wasn't ever like this. And it was stupid, really, how drawn he felt from just a couple hundred words on a screen, from a stranger. It wasn't even a good font.

Mason pursed his lips, sighing quietly as he stared at the forum page, at the slight curve of Jules' mouth in her profile picture. He abruptly switched tabs, checking his Twitter and replying to some fans. He Googled other fansites, ones he already had accounts on, and sifted through the threads, trying to find something else to do.

It was a bit before Elias responded again. Jules fucked around with other things on the site while he waited, scrolled through Tumblr, and then went back. He private messaged Elias, frowning a little.

familyjules: hey dude. just so you know i fuck with all the mason superfans like that. it's way too easy to roast mason

Mason was startled when he heard a ping as he had finally distracted himself from familyjules. He hesitated barely a second before switching back, smiling as he read the message.

masonfucker1000: yeah its cool! got distracted. ur wrong tho. completely wrong. masons a regular manwhore

familyjules: cool all good. just wanted to make sure you weren't actually mad! and trust me i know far too many girls on here have talked about seeing his dick

masonfucker1000: mad? over that? dont worry, bro, not at all

gh! and they all say his dick is huge. which is false. have u seen him in skinny jeans? he's got an average dick, ladies. an average dick with an above average heart

familyjules: damn dude. at least you're honest unlike them. also sometimes it looks big so i wonder who's right👀

masonfucker1000: average dick.

fuck im starving. what do i have to do to get some pizza up in hereeeee

familyjules: be mason hill?

familyjules: kidding! i'll send you some

masonfucker1000: you be careful or ill end up taking your word for it!! i swear my stomach is going to start eating itself

They ended up talking for a bit longer, but then Jules had to sleep, which made Mason pouty. It was rare for him to enjoy talking to someone this much, but Jules had a late shift the next day and classes all day, so he said goodbye and logged off, promising to be back same time the next day.

♦️

It kept like that for a week. Jules talked to Elias whenever he could, along with his other friends. He felt drawn to Elias for some reason, compelled to let the mysterious user eat up all his time.

familyjules: so. mr. masonfucker. you've only got two things on your profile and it's been a week. not even a small introduction to tell us about yourself other than you'd let mason have his way with you? i'm curious ;)

During the week, Mason had become gradually more excited every time he had the chance to be online when Jules was, which had thankfully been coinciding with after Nosam sets. He bit his lip as he read the newest message from her.

masonfucker1000: oh, youre curious? maybe i like the suspense ;) what about u, miss familyjules? im very curious about u. ur short bio is frankly not enough

Jules winced at the response. So Elias did think he was a girl. He could set him straight... but he knew nothing about this person except that he was cis and straight. He seemed cool, but Jules really didn't want to deal with a huge messy fight on the site right now.

familyjules: hey, you know i live in michigan. and what i look like. and that i play bass and play hockey. i don't even know what you do for fun, aside from stan mason. c'mon, dude

Mason groaned. God, he could just disappear right now, not talk to her ever again. But he'd be fucking bummed. Was he just lonely? I mean, tours got like that sometimes. Maybe he just needed stress relief, although that was off the table at the moment. Shit. This wasn't a... thing. Was it?

masonfucker1000: alright, alright! well, i do not live in michigan. i look like a burnt chicken nugget but i still love myself! i like singing and i've seen Real Steel abt a thousand times. how about that?

familyjules: real steel is awesome! and singing! maybe you should be in seluj with me one day. we'd take over the world, displace nosam

masonfucker1000: hell yeah! I'll let hugh jackman have at all this too 🥒🍆

displace nosam? ur blocked

masonfucker1000: kidding! totally up for it, let's go. altho it should be called saile, then

familyjules: hey, you're the one who named it seluj in the first place! maybe we're getting ahead of ourselves tho. havent even heard u sing. for all i know you could suck

masonfucker1000: thats where you're wrong, jules! that's where you're wrong! hold on

Mason paced the tour bus, considering his options. He had to show her he could sing. If he sang a song nobody had ever heard him do, maybe it would be alright?

masonfucker1000: uploaded suckonthisjules.mp3

masonfucker1000: go the distance! Hercules is my favorite disney movie. see? proof of my awesome talent and a fact abt me

Jules blinked in shock at the file, clicking play and leaning back. He listened, transfixed, picking at his lip.

familyjules: holy shit elias you sound a lot like mason. did you train your voice or what? there were a few places where you were off key but god damn. also hercules is so underrated

"Oh, fuck," Mason said as he read the response. "Wait— off key?" he glared at his laptop.

Andrew snorted. "A few minutes ago? Yeah."

Mason turned his glare towards Andrew. "I was not off key."

Andrew just laughed and shook his head, stuffing his face with chicken.

Mason frowned. It's not his fault his voice was a little strained after the show. No way he was gonna admit it, though.

He deleted the file he sent.

masonfucker1000: ah yeah, a bit.

and go to hell. off key, my ass! i told you I can sing. hercules is def underrated! yo where do u go all day?

Jules frowned when the messages shifted. He scrolled back up to find the file gone. "Oh, come on," he muttered. How paranoid could this guy be? It was a fansite. Who cared?

familyjules: def off key a bit. you deleted the file because of it, i see you, devil 👀

familyjules: oh also i'm a working college student! class by day, waiting tables by night

masonfucker1000: i did not!

oh shit, nice! well, horrible, but nice. i bet you get good tips ;) what are u studying?

familyjules: you'd be surprised how bad the tips are. studying music and psych, but the psych is a minor

masonfucker1000: jules ill go over there and tip you, you'll be set for life. so ur serious abt music huh? what do u wanna do?

familyjules: so youre rich. another thing i know now. and hell yeah i am! i want to work w/ a recording company if i can, fill in bass. more freelance than i'd like but it's something

masonfucker1000: 🤑

masonfucker1000: woah woah wait. ur settling! what would you like?

familyjules: settling? i don't call getting to play bass for a living settling

familyjules: what i really want tho is to play in a band but that's unlikely

masonfucker1000: uh huh

masonfucker1000: i knew it! c'mon, unlikely? you're as good as chris if you're not lying abt not stripping his bass 👀 maybe even better

familyjules: WHOA dude dont disrespect christo like that he's a huge role model!! i wish i could be as good as him

Mason smiled, getting up to bother Chris. "Yo, hey, dude?"

Chris looked up from his laptop, rubbing his forehead. "Huh?"

"You know that girl I've been talking to that plays bass. She says you're her role model and got offended when I said she probably plays better than you."

Chris smiled warmly. "That's sweet."

"No, but, listen," Mason showed him an audio clip of Jules covering bass for one of their songs. Chris furrowed his eyebrows as he listened, running his fingers through his hair as his jaw went slack. "Shit. What? Geez— don't even tell the guys, they'll replace me."

Mason laughed loudly, ruffling Chris's hair.

masonfucker1000: no disrespect to christo, i think you're incredibly good. u could definitely be better than him! u should try the band thing, bro, if thats what u really want

familyjules: maybe. i have some stage fright too but been working on that. what do you do all day, mr. masonfucker?

Aw, fuck. This was going to get frustrating for the both of them real quick. Mason didn't want to lie, but he couldn't tell her what he actually did all day. He could maybe explain that he was going to have to keep some (a lot of) personal information to himself? That would sound weird. Mason stared at the message, unsure what to do. He could be a bit of a dick and reply with a joke. Or something really vague. He'd only known Jules for a little over a week but he had a feeling he might not get away with that.

masonfucker1000: how've you been working on it?

masonfucker1000: and i think the more appropriate question is who don't i do all day

Oh, God, that was bad. He regretted sending that one. Mason found himself not wanting her to actually think he slept around all day. Or at all. Fucking hell.

Jules frowned at the reply. This was... interesting, he guessed. Or something like it.

familyjules: so you're a prostitute? that's how you have so much money?

Mason couldn't help but laugh at the response.

masonfucker1000: what! no no

Mason grumbled to himself, rubbing his hands down in face.

masonfucker1000: that was a stupid thing for me to say, sorry

masonfucker1000: i have a job that requires a lot of travel

familyjules: okay that makes more sense. a traveling prostitute. sounds fun! what places have u seen?

Mason rolled his eyes, smiling.

masonfucker1000: oh, aaaall oooover the world. in the US rn, tho! i could put on a show for u ;)

familyjules: maybe i'll take you up on that offer ;)

familyjules: hey im about to upload a new cover btw! it just finished uploading

masonfucker1000: oh, another masterful christo strip!

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