#were going to have our wedding you all are invited
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honeyjars-sims · 1 day ago
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Part 2 Prologue #3: The Big 2-0
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It’s the day of my and Chantal’s birthday party and our dads are helping us set up. We kept it small, just family and close friends. Of course, Paul is coming, too; we’re not super close, but he does live here so it’s only fair to invite him. Plus with Lucy here he won’t feel too out of place.
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Pops takes a look around the grounds. “I’ve got to say, I really enjoy it out here. It’s so peaceful. What do you say, David? Can’t you picture us living off the land?”
“Oh yeah, scooping up goat shit is what I’ve always dreamed of.” Dad smirks. 
“Dad wouldn’t last a day here!” Chantal laughs. 
“I guess we’ll stick to visiting, then,” Pops concedes. “Ah, here come Cece and Ben!”
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“Happy birthday!” Cece calls out and she gives us both hugs. “How does it feel to be 20?”
“It’s awesome! I finally feel like a real adult!” Chantal replies. Even though we’re twins, sometimes I feel like Chantal is my older sister–technically she is, I guess, by a couple of minutes. She’s always been more put together, more mature, more goal-oriented.
Even though I’ve been doing a lot more planning for my future, a lot of the time I still feel like a kid cosplaying as a grownup. I keep waiting for the day everyone realizes I don’t actually know what I’m doing.
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“Not me,” I say. “I still feel like I have a lot of growing up to do.”
“You do,” Dad responds.
“Gee, thanks.”
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“I don’t mean it like that,” he laughs. “You don’t suddenly become an adult one day and have it all figured out.”
“You’ll learn and grow, and make mistakes, and learn some more,” Pops adds. “Just like we all will.”
“Well, at least I know I’m not the only one,” I say.
“So, Cece, have you and Ben picked a wedding date yet?” Chantal asks.
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Cece groans. “Ugh, not yet. I don’t even know when I’ll have the time to plan anything. We’re going to be traveling so much with the band this year. I don’t want to be engaged forever, but we might have to wait until things slow down.”
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“Well, I’ll help out however I can,” Chantal offers. “You know how much I love planning things.”
“Paul’s sister-in-law is an event planner,” I chime in. “Maybe you can hire her, or she can give you some information on vendors and stuff.”
“Thanks, guys,” Cece says. “I need all the help I can get. It’s just so overwhelming.”
“I told you, we don’t have to do anything big,” Ben tells her, rubbing her shoulder. “I don’t think you’d want that, anyway. As long as I get to be your husband, I’m cool with whatever.”
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“I know, but I want to do something. Maybe we could have a small ceremony before we leave so we don’t have to put it off.”
“Sounds good to me!” Ben agrees. 
“What are you planning on doing about your last name?” Dad asks her. “You’re already double-barreled, so I’m assuming you won’t be taking on a third.”
“Well, I was planning on leaving it as it is. Ben doesn’t care if I take his and we won’t be having kids, so no need to worry about that.”
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“That’s a good plan.” Dad sighs. “You know I support your decision to remain childfree, but it is a shame to think that my family name won’t be passed on.”
“I’m sorry, David,” Pops tells him. “I’m not really attached to my surname, but I know how important your heritage and your family are to you.”
“It’s okay. I have 3 beautiful children, a soon-to-be son-in-law, and a loving husband. I’m blessed no matter what their names are.”
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I think about my own name. Like my Pops, I’ve never really felt attached to my last name. I was so young when my mom got married that I barely remember her being an Ayers. Besides, now that I'm no longer speaking to her, I feel even less connected to her side of the family.
Destiny and Trinity were both given their fathers’ surnames, and Chantal plans to change hers whenever she gets married. I guess I can pass the Ayers name down to my kids, but do I even want that? I guess that’s not something I have to think about quite yet.
Right now, the most pressing issue on my mind is when we're going to cut the cake.
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scoonsalicious · 19 hours ago
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3/Unsized, Pt. 1
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Pocket!Reader
Summary: Family is complicated. Family is messy. Family is what you make it.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, poorly translated Russian AND Italian (we're branching out!), Reak Talk, fluff, jealous!Bucky, mention of sexual situations.
Word Count: 3.6k
Previously On...: When it comes to a future with Bucky, you're still harboring some insecurities and one big secret.
A/N: This chapter had to be broken into two parts, as I let it get away from me. I wrote all you see before you without even gettitng to the point of what I wanted this chapter to be about, lol, so more to come!
Banner by my beloved @mrsbuckybarnes1917; poor recolor by me.
If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
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You strolled leisurely through the streets of Brooklyn, Bucky’s vibranium arm draped lovingly over your shoulder, his fingers entwined with yours. The morning had been spent running wedding errands—officially as Pepper’s Maid of Honor, but in truth, you were Tony’s errand-running bitch more often than not.
Not that you minded in the least. You’d do anything for Tony Stark (though you’d rather have your arm re-broken than admit it out loud). Spending the day outside in the sunshine with your boyfriend, dropping off the florist deposits, final invitation proofs, and sketches for the life-size chocolate Iron Man Tony had insisted on to the chocolatier, wasn’t a bad trade-off.
“I think the only reason Pepper agreed to that monstrosity in the first place,” Bucky said, licking his fingers clean of the last of the candy samples the chocolatier had sent out the door with you, “is so that she can ceremoniously chop its head off.”
You laughed in agreement. “He better be grateful that thing’s not anatomically correct, then.” You flashed Bucky a mischievous smile. “Who knows what might happen if she gets carried away? Lord knows he’s pissed her off enough times.”
“Don’t go gettin’ any ideas now, doll,” Bucky teased, pulling you closer planting a kiss on the side of your head. “I’ll have to start worryin’ about you choppin’ parts off a chocolate Bucky at our wedding.”
You pulled away, mock disbelief on your face. “Oh, our wedding, huh? Pretty presumptuous for a guy who’s never even properly proposed.”
Bucky grumbled good naturedly, sliding his arm from your shoulder to your waste. “How many times does a guy have to tell his girl he wants to marry her before she takes him seriously?” he asked, tickling your side through the thin fabric of your lavender sundress. 
Squealing, you tried to wriggle free, but he caught you, nuzzling into your neck. “He’s only gotta ask her once” you teased, wrapping your arms around his neck, “if he does it right to begin with.”
“Oh, I’ll do it right,” he promised, his lips brushing yours. “And trust me, doll, when the question comes, you’ll know it’s the real deal.”
You raised a playful brow, glancing pointedly at the empty ring finger on your left hand.. “You keep saying that, and yet…”
Bucky grabbed your hand and quickly pulled it to his mouth, nipping on the inside of your wrist. “Like I said, doll, you gotta trust me.”
The words hit you harder than you expected. Trust him. Once, you thought you’d be able to trust him again, but now…
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” you asked, studying his face. 
Bucky’s smirk softened. “Like a heart attack, sweets.” He hesitated, concern flickering in his eyes. “You still doubt me?” 
“No.” Your voice was quiet, but certain. You jostled into him as someone brushed by, and he steadied you with a hand on your waist. Guiding him off to the side, you leaned against the building, away from the bustling sidewalk.
“No, baby, of course not. I just…” You blew out a puff of air as you took his hands in yours. “Wow. It’s just… Talking about it in the hypothetical’s been one thing, but knowing you’re actually making plans? That’s something else.”
He frowned as he gently extricated his hand from yours and reached up to brush a strand of hair from your face. “Is that a bad thing, doll?”
“It’s a great thing,” you clarified in a breathy whisper, leaning into his touch. “It’s the best thing, I promise. I just… I just don’t want to fuck it up. I’m so scared I’m gonna fuck it up.”
“Doll,” Bucky let out a relieved chuckle as he pulled you into him, wrapping his body so perfectly around yours, as though it had been made to fit. “Don’t you think I’ve already fucked up enough for the both of us? I think we’ve already more than met our fuck-up relationship quota.”
“Stop,” you pleaded, laughing into the hard plains of his chest. “I’m trying to be serious and vulnerable and shit.” 
Bucky’s hands ran comfortingly up and down your spine. “So am I,” he said, his tone warm. “I didn’t deserve a second chance from you, after everything that happened, but you gave me one. I wanna spend the rest of my life making sure you never regret that decision.”
You slipped your hands around his waist under the buttery leather of his jacket and squeezed gently. “I love you,” you told him. “I love you so much, and when you do ask me to marry you, I’m gonna say yes.”
Bucky let out a relieved exhale. “You mean that, doll?” he asked, his voice so soft you almost didn’t hear him. “You’ll marry me? For real?”
“Absolutely,” you leaned back so you could look up at his face. The smile he wore was absolutely breathtaking in its joy. You didn’t think you’d ever seen him look as unabashedly happy as he did in this moment. “Or, at least, I will when you actually propose to me,” you clarified, giving him a mischievous smirk. 
“Oh, shut up,” he said with a groan, leaning down to take your lips in his. The kiss flowed over and through you, warming you from the inside out, until your entire body was tingling with the heat of it, but before you could allow yourself to get caught up in it, a sobering thought came over.
“Oh my god, have you talked to Tony yet?” you asked, gripping the lapels of his jacket. While Tony and Bucky had been playing nice over the last year, you weren’t sure how he would react if he thought the two of you were actually going to get married.
Bucky grinned knowingly. “I didn’t realize you were such an old fashioned girl,” he teased. “Should I negotiate the terms of your dowry while I’m at it? Get us a couple of fat cows and a goat to start our life together?”
You gnawed on your bottom lip in a failing attempt to stave off your grin. “Surely you can convince him to throw in at least one pig with that,” you countered. “I know for a fact you can be very persuasive when you want to be.” You playfully nipped at the juncture of his jaw and his neck.
Bucky slipped his hands between your sundress and the denim jacket you wore, sliding his fingers along the line where the fabric met the skin of your back. “I doubt he’s as susceptible to my powers of persuasion as you are, doll,” he teased.
“Probably not,” you conceded, but your voice turned a bit more serious as you continued to speak: “but he’s the closest thing to actual family I’ve got,” you told him, a whisper of sadness on the edge of your voice. “I’m not saying I want you to, like, ask his permission or anything, because, you know… ew, but I really would like him to be onboard. To be happy for us.”
“Aside from Pepper, there’s no one on this planet more important to Tony than you,” Bucky said reassuringly. “If you’re happy, he’ll be happy. That’s all there is to it.”
“If you’re happy, I’m happy,” you told him, pulling him toward you until there was no space left between you. 
He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Then we don’t have anything to worry about,” he said, grinning. “Because I am happy. And I promise, I’ll make sure Tony’s happy, too.”
“Thank you,” you murmured into his chest. You’d had hopes, once, that Bucky and Tony might have been able to forge some kind of relationship– if not one born from any kind of affection, then from at least a mutual love of and respect for you, but that hope had been dashed after you’d gotten shot. 
“I’ll tolerate him for your sake, Kiddo,” he’d said to you when you’d told him you’d decided to work on rebuilding your relationship with Bucky. “But I’m not going to be able to just up and forgive him.”
“You managed to forgive him for your parents, though,” you’d said to him tentatively. “And he wasn’t even the one who pulled the trigger on me.”
Tony’d swallowed his gaze somewhere far away. “Yeah,” he’d said “but he wasn’t in his right mind back then. And they weren’t you.” 
“Not that I wouldn’t mind standing here holding you all day, doll,” Bucky said, taking you from your thoughts after a long moment, “but we’ve got to get to the jeweler’s before they close.”
You stepped back and looked up at him, a wave of panic coming over you that you were sure was noticeable on your face. “I thought you said you were making plans! Not that you had plans! Least of all jewelry store plans!”
“Calm down, sweetheart,” Bucky said, kissing the top of your head with a laugh. “Did you forget that last stop we have to make for Stark?” 
You exhaled, embarrassed at your mini-freakout. In all the talk of a future with Bucky, you’d forgotten the purpose of your current task for Tony– to have his mother’s wedding band set resized for Pepper. The ring was meant to be a surprise, and since you and Pepper wore the same size, you were the perfect stand-in for this little bit of subterfuge. 
“I very much did,” you admitted with a sheepish smile. “What can I say, Barnes? You’ve got me all twitterpated.” 
Bucky pursed his lips, taking your hand and leading you down the sidewalk again. “Doll,” he purred, “you know what you do to me when you use ‘40s slang. We’re in public, for cryin’ out loud.”
“Тебе нравится больше, когда я говорю с тобой на русском?” you asked him, your voice dripping into something sultry. Do you like it better than when I speak Russian to you?
Bucky shook his head, pouting slightly. “Нет, никогда.” No, never.
Arriving at the jeweler’s a few minutes early, you were greeted by a man behind the counter who invited you to browse while the jeweler finished things up on a piece he was currently working on in the back. The place was a hidden gem–an artisan’s studio/showroom run by the grandson designer of Tony’s mother’s ring. From the outside, it was unassuming, but inside, it showcased some of the most exquisite (and undoubtedly expensive) pieces you’d ever seen.
You hummed appreciatively as you traced your fingers over the glass of the display case, admiring the intricate filigree and glittering gemstones. Of course, nothing had a price tag. You’d been in Tony’s orbit long enough to know that if you had to ask, you couldn’t afford it.
“See anything you like?” Bucky’s voice was warm as he rested his chin on your shoulder and wrapped his arms around your waist. “Just, you know, in case I ever wanted to get you a Labor Day present or something.”
You turned to give him a skeptical look. “A Labor Day present?”
“Or something,” he repeated, nudging your cheek with his nose.
You snorted out a laugh that felt entirely out of place among such elegance. “Classy,” he teased, swaying you slightly in his arms.
“Everything’s beautiful,” you admitted with a wistful sigh, “but nothing here feels like me, you know?” Bucky hummed, his chin still on your shoulder. The sound vibrated pleasantly through you. “Yeah,” he agreed. “I get that. You play in Tony’s world, but you don’t live in it.”
“Exactly.” You turned to face him, smiling at how easily he understood you. “It’s like, I’m always gonna see myself as that girl from the trailer park in Ohio. Jewelry, fancy cars, designer clothes… it was all so far out of reach, I never even dreamed of it. It’s not what I grew up wishing for.”
Bucky’s face softened in understanding. Growing up during the Depression, he knew what it was like to see even the basics as unattainable luxuries. “What did you wish for, doll?” His voice was quiet, almost reverent.
You chuckled, though it came out a bit hollow. “Well, aside from the obvious…” Bucky nodded, understanding what you didn’t say–that you wished you hadn’t been trapped and trafficked. “I wanted things like getting a real education; not having to teach myself with whatever books I could get at the library. Being allowed to go to school. Having friends. God, I wanted friends so badly. Getting out and never having to worry about looking over my shoulder again.” 
You exhaled, steadying yourself. “When you’re just trying to survive,” you said, “shit like this doesn’t matter. It’s just stuff.”
Bucky pressed a soft kiss to the top of your forehead, grounding you. “If you had to have one piece of jewelry,” he said, a teasing edge creeping into his voice, “let’s say, a ring, just as a random, hypothetical example with no bearing in actual reality, whatsoever, what would you want it to look like?”
You smiled, happily leaning into the game. “Well, speaking strictly hypothetically,” you said tapping your chin in thought, “I think I’d want something vintage. Antique. Maybe Art Deco.”
Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Why not?” You shrugged, reaching up to tweak his nose. “I happen to have a soft spot for old, worn down things.” 
“I’ll show you old and worn down,” Bucky said, his voice dropping dangerously low. Your heartbeat sped up as you stood on your toes, reaching for him with your lips. 
Before you could connect in what you just knew would be a fiery kiss, Bucky’s phone rang. 
“Fuck,” he murmured, pressing his forehead to yours. “Lemme let it go to voicemail.”
You licked your lips, gently pushing him back. “Answer it,” you told him. “Could be ‘Very Important World Saving Business’. Besides…” You leaned in conspiratorally. “If we got started, we both know it’d only be a matter of minutes before you had me bent over one of these display cases, fucking me raw on top of all these diamonds.”
Bucky swallowed hard, the tips of his ears turning a delightful shade of red. “And now I have to take this outside,” he muttered, retreating with his phone in hand, “because I definitely can’t look at you and talk to someone at the same time with that image in my head.”
You grinned, waving cheerfully as he stepped out the door, his phone already to his ear. Was it mean to tease him so badly? Yes. Did you enjoy the fuck out of seeing him get all worked up? Also, yes.
No sooner had he left than a voice from behind the counter called out to you. “You are the Stark appointment?”
Turning, you found yourself face-to-face with an impossibly handsome olive-skinned man emerging from the back room. Italian, if you had to hazard a guess. He had a messy head of black curls that seemed to keep falling into a pair of hazel eyes with thick, dark lashes that gave him an effortlessly suave air, accentuated by a slightly aquiline nose that looked like it might have been broken once before; and his lips were sensuously full, with a pronounced cupid’s bow that would meet even Hawkeye’s exacting standards. 
You admired him the way you would admire a slice of Tiramisu– it looked positively delicious, and perhaps you would be tempted to take a bite… if you hadn’t already been utterly satiated by the most decadent, rich layered dark chocolate mousse you’d ever hope to have in your entire life. Thank you, but you couldn’t possibly; you had already overindulged.
“Hi, yes.” You extended your hand. “I’m Pocket.” You retrieved the box with Tony’s mother’s ring from your bag. He’d offered to send you with a full security detail but, you figured, if the Winter Soldier couldn’t protect the ring from would-be thieves, nothing could, especially when it was being transported by something he found infinitely more valuable. “I’m here to have this resized.” 
The man ignored the box and took your hand instead. “Marco Palombini,” he offered, his accent rich and lyrical.
“Italiano?” you asked excitedly. It wasn’t very often you had the opportunity to practice this particular language skill set of yours. 
Marco’s eyes lit up. “Sì! La mia famiglia è di Sabina, appena fuori Roma. E la tu?” Yes! My family’s from Sabina, just outside of Rome. Yours?
“Oh, no,” you replied with a laugh. “Sono americana.” I’m American.
“Davvero?” He looked skeptical. Really? “Allora ci sarai stata parecchio, no?” You must have spent a lot of time there, then, yeah?
You shook your head; it was one place your business responsibilities had yet to bring you. “No, non ci sono mai stata. Però ho sempre voluto andarci, soprattutto a Roma.” No, never. But I’ve always wanted to, especially Rome.
Marco’s gaze softened. “Beh, sono sicuro che Tony Stark non negherebbe alla sua fidanzata bella una luna di miele nella Città Eterna.” Well, I’m sure Tony Stark wouldn’t deny his beautiful fiancée a honeymoon in the Eternal City.
“Dio, no!” you snorted. God, no! “Non sono la fidanzata di Tony. Sono qui solo perché io e lei abbiamo la stessa misura di mani.” I’m not Tony’s fiance. I’m just here because she and I have the same sized hands. You opened the box with Tony’s mother’s ring and slid it across the glass countertop, suppressing a laugh at the absurdity of being mistaken for Tony’s betrothed. The thought was hilariously, ludicrously gross.
Marco’s expression lightened considerably as he tilted his head, a sly smile forming. “Beh, non è una fortuna, allora?” he asked, taking your hand and tracing the lines of your palm with his fingers. Well, isn’t that lucky, then?
Before you could politely extract your hand, a familiar, steadying presence loomed behind you. “Everything good, sweets?” Bucky’s voice held a subtle edge, a clear sign of his displeasure at the sight of Marco’s hand lingering on yours.
“Hey, baby,” you said, fighting the smile that threatened to break through at his obvious jealousy. Sliding your free hand around Bucky’s waist, you rested your head against his side, silently reinforcing that you were unmistakingly his. “Mr. Palombini was just about to measure my finger for the resizing.” You flashed Marco a friendly smile and nodded for him to continue.
Marco’s expression faltered briefly at Bucky’s towering presence, but he recovered quickly, resuming his professional demeanor. He retrieved a set of finger-sizing gauges, slipped one onto your finger, and adjusted it a few times to ensure a perfect fit before jotting down notes in his ledger.
“Should take about ten days,” he said briskly. Moving to the register, he typed up a form, signed it, and handed it to you along with a pen. “Sign here and bring your copy when you pick up the ring.”
“Anyone who has the receipt can come pick up the ring, right?” Bucky asked, his tone pointed as he leaned slightly closer to the counter. “It doesn’t necessarily have to be her?”
You pinched his side lightly, though it was a challenge to find anything but solid muscle. “Behave,” you murmured under your breath.
Marco didn’t flinch, handing you the signed receipt with a calm, professional smile that bordered on smug. “No,” he said, his gaze flicking briefly to Bucky. “We will only release the ring to the person who signed the receipt. Company policy.”
Bucky raised an eyebrow as you tucked the receipt into your wallet. “So, you mean to tell me,” he began, “that if Tony Stark himself showed up with his receipt, you wouldn’t give him his own ring back?”
Marco leaned casually against the counter, arms crossed. “We will only release the ring to the person who signed the receipt,” he repeated, his smirk faint but unmistakable.
You rolled your eyes, deciding you’d had enough machismo for one afternoon. “Great,” you said, taking Bucky’s hand in yours. “Let us know when it’s ready, and we’ll be back to pick it up.”
As Bucky held the shop door open for you, Marco’s voice rang out behind you. “Bella donna!” he called, a mischievous lilt in his tone. You glanced over your shoulder to see him wink. “Quando torni, magari potrei interessarti a un tour privato di Roma!” When you come back, maybe I can interest you in a private tour of Rome!
Shaking your head with a mix of exasperation and amusement, you stepped outside, Bucky right behind you.
“What did he say to you?” Bucky asked, his tone deceptively calm.
“Oh, nothing much,” you replied lightly. “Just invited me to run away to Rome with him.”
Bucky frowned as he took your hand in his. “Not funny, doll.”
“I’m totally serious,” you told him. Bucky stopped abruptly in his tracks, pulling you to a halt. “Hey–” you began.” 
“That son of a bitch!” Bucky growled, turning slightly as though he were about to march back inside. “I’m going to–”
“You’re not going to do anything,” you said, gently  tugging on his hand to redirect him forward. “He was being a shameless flirt. He’s Italian. It’s practically in his DNA.” Your attempt at humor didn’t seem to land, judging by the dark look on Bucky’s face. “The only thing that matters,” you added more seriously,  “is that I’m not into it. I’m into you.”
Bucky sighed and ran a hand haphazardly through his hair. “I know, sweets,” he said. “I’m just not…”
“Not used to being the jealous one for a change?” you teased, swinging his hand in yours as you walked. “Trust me, I know, it’s no fun, which is why I’m being nice and not letting you stew in it.”
Bucky huffed, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward. “Well, thanks for that, I guess.”
You grinned, leaning into him as you walked. “You’re welcome, Barnes. Besides, you’re prettier to look at than he is, anyway.”
The small, satisfied smile on Bucky’s face as he pulled you closer was all the reassurance you needed.
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atlafan · 24 hours ago
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Bad Medicine - Prologue + Part 1
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a/n: you can read this 8-part, completed fic on Patreon now! I always like to post the first part of a completed work here to give yall a taste. Consider joining my Patreon today to read the rest of this fic, and the many others I have on there. Happy Friday! Warnings: grief, funerals, a ton of sexual tension. best friend's little sister/brother's best friend trope Words: 10K Patreon
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Prologue
Harry
It was sudden and unexpected. But even when you’re given the time to prepare, you still fall apart when it happens, so there’s no difference.
My best friend died. We’re only thirty-one, this shouldn’t be happening yet. But a brain aneurysm doesn’t care how old you are, apparently. Tim hadn’t felt well one afternoon. We all thought he was dehydrated, so he went to lay down. When his mother went upstairs to check on him, his body was unmoving, and he had no pulse.
The Bakers are a close family. I had the privilege of being pulled in when Tim and I became friends. Tim’s father, Adam, died a long time ago, it was a mixture of lung cancer and high cholesterol. When he died, he left quite a bit of land to Tim and I. Tim’s mother, Georgette, had already known about this, but it came as a complete shock to Tim and I.
“It’s so you two can build the ranch back up, make it better.” Georgette had smiled somberly. “We didn’t think you’d be getting it quite so soon.”
My grandmother had raised me, but when she got too old to take care of herself, we had to sell our home. I moved her into the best assisted living facility I could find, and the Bakers invited me to come live with them. I barely needed to take them up on their offer because this happened around when Tim and I were set to go to college. We both got football scholarships at the same school. It was perfect. But I’d stay with them when I’d come home on breaks, and I had been going to their house since I was five. The Bakers have always been family.
Since Adam died when we were fifteen, our after-school jobs became mowing, fence mending, dirt packing, stall mucking, and so on. We worked our asses off to bring Black Beauty Ranch to life. Georgette was a big help with the logistics. She had grown up on a cattle ranch, so she knew the ins and outs of buying and selling cattle, horses, chickens, and so on. She knew the best vets to come in and check on the animals, she knew how to help the animal through giving birth, and she knew how to give horse riding lessons. She of course taught us all of that too, so by the time Tim and I graduated from college, we were ready to take the reins.
We built a big, beautiful house for ourselves. The land wasn’t too far from the Baker’s original house, so we created a throughway and had Georgette stay living there, while Tim and I lived in our big house. We call Georgette’s house Girl House, and we call mine and Tim’s Boy House. It was stupid, but because Tim’s little sister stayed with Georgette, and they were girls, it made sense for that to be called the girl house because that’s what it was. Rowan was actually the one to give us the idea. Not living with Georgette gave us the much needed independence we craved. We didn’t want to have to answer to anyone about who may or may not be sleeping over, and Tim didn’t want Rowan seeing random women coming and going.
After we built the boy house, we worked on smaller, ranch-style homes that the ranch hands could live in, if they so choose. We used several as Air BnB’s to offset different costs, and we even converted one of the barns into an event space so people could have their wedding receptions or parties here.
Families rented our horse stables, our horses too, and we offered lessons. The ranch hands did a superb job of keeping the cattle healthy, along with the other animals. We’ve made this place into a well-oiled machine. Even Rowan stepped up a few years back to do some freelance social media management for us. She set up an email marketing schedule, ads on different social networking sites, all of that shit. I don’t understand much of it. I think I only have Instagram and Facebook as apps on my phone, and that’s just to stay in touch with a few people and to switch into the business accounts to answer questions.
It wasn’t until a little later that it was revealed as to why Adam left his nearly 6,000 acres to us. His brother, Glen, thought he was going to get everything since the Baker home had been a generational family home. He only got the Baker General Store in town, and he ended up having to sell it because of the 2008 recession. He had that little bit of cash and nothing else. He’s tried to weasel his way into Black Beauty Ranch, but Georgette has been good about keeping him out of our business. The land was in a trust, split between me and Tim. Glen was pretty pissed when we met with the family attorney to go over Adam’s will.
“How could he do this to me, I’m his brother! That boy isn’t even related to us!” Glen had shouted, scaring Rowan. I’ll never forget seeing her little body tremble as she hung on to Tim.
“It doesn’t matter! This is what Adam and I wanted. We wanted to ensure the kids would be set up for long after we’re gone. Tim needed a partner, and Harry’s practically family. His grandmother babysat you and Adam when you were kids, remember?”
“So that makes him family?”
“Maybe I should go.” I had said, not wanting to cause any drama.
“Harry, it’s alright. Glen’s just being a baby.” Georgette said, then looked at Glen. “You’re getting the general store, what’s the big deal?”
“I already had the general store.”
“You had half of the general store. Adam left you his share. You only want the acreage so you can convert it into a subdivision and sell bits and pieces of it for people to build shitty homes on. The land will be a better use for Black Beauty.”
“What a stupid name.” Glen seethed.
“I picked it out.” Little Rowan had mustered the courage to say. “The boys let me.”
“It’s her favorite movie.” Tim said. “And we wanted her to feel like she had a say in things.”
“There are, like, eight different Black Beauty movies.” Glen ran a hand down his face. “This is insane!”
“It doesn’t matter. This is what Adam wanted, and I signed off on it when we put all of this together.” Georgette said. “This isn’t something you can contest. My husband died.” She took a step towards him. “The love of my life is gone forever, you don’t want to fuck with me right now, Glen.”
It was the first time I had ever heard Georgette use a curse word. The room fell completely silent, and that was that.
The ranch is really starting to turn a profit now. It’s been good for the town of Hawthorn, thanks to all of the jobs the ranch created. Other ranches and farms buy our cattle to sell to markets because ours aren’t pumped full of hormones or other bullshit. And even though somedays it feels like back-breaking labor, I love what I do.
But Tim’s dead now, so I have no idea how I’m going to manage the ranch on my own. Sure, Georgette is still here to help, but I can’t rely on her forever. I’m going to need to talk to Rowan when she gets here for the funeral. Maybe she can help out in the interim. She hasn’t lived at home in quite some time, but maybe she wouldn’t mind not paying rent for a while, that could sweeten the deal a bit considering she lives in LA where the rent is astronomical.
We all decided to meet at the boy house since that’s where everyone will go after the service. Georgette is already down in my kitchen. I’m just getting my tie tied when I hear Georgette exclaim, “She’s here!”. Hopefully her loud voice didn’t send my Granny into shock. She’s ninety, she can’t handle much these days.
I make my way downstairs, give Granny a kiss on the top of her head before topping up her coffee, and then the wind is knocked out of me when Georgette brings Rowan into the house.
She looks the most grown up I’ve ever seen her, like…like a real woman. All she has on is a simple, black dress, but there’s something different about her.
Before I can greet her, she’s throwing herself into me, crying, “Oh, Harry!” She sobs into my chest, and I have no idea what to do. I don’t want to hold her too tight. She’s already pressed up against me, I don’t need to feel any more of her than I already do. I decide to just pat at her shoulder. “I’m sorry, I know you all are sad too, I just don’t know how I’m going to get through this.” She pulls back and wipes under her eyes. “I can’t believe he’s really gone. Oh! Hi, Granny Styles.” She throws her arms around Granny. “How are you feeling?”
“Any time I sit, I have to sit on a donut or else my back hurts for a week. How the hell do you think I’m feeling?”
“Granny.” I can’t help but laugh. “Don’t be nasty to Ro, hm? Her brother died.”
Granny rolls her eyes. Losing a sibling is child’s play to her. She was forced to bury her son and daughter-in-law on the same day. There’s really no coming back from that kind of grief. But the upside is, Georgette has someone to talk to about what it feels like to lose a child.
“The town car is here.” Georgette says. “I’ll sit with Granny in the second row of seats, you two can sit in the back row. It’s nice that no one will have to sit up front with the driver. When Adam died, they wouldn’t let Ro sit on my lap, so they made Glen go sit up front. Come to think of it, maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.”
“I’m glad he’s not riding with us to the cemetery.” Rowan says. “Why isn’t he, though? Since he’s immediate family.”
“I asked the undertaker if they could send a separate car to his house since your aunt and cousins are coming.”
We all head outside to the car, and I help Granny inside before rounding the car to open the other door for Georgette. Then I open the door for Rowan before going around the car again to get in on the other side. We’re all quiet, knowing that if we speak at this point, we’ll all just burst into tears. I, for one, would prefer to save my tears for the service.
We’re not late by any means, but we’re not the first to arrive. A few of the ranch hands are already here, as well as some friends from high school, and Tim’s ex-girlfriend, Delia.
Fuck. They broke up about six months ago, she must be devastated. I leave Georgette, Rowan, and Granny to go over to her.
“Hey.” I say.
“Hi.” Her voice cracks and I open my arms to hug her. She comes to me easily. When I feel her stomach meet mine rather quickly, I step back and look down. She’s wearing a long coat. She notices me looking at her stomach and she sighs, opening her jacket. “I was going to tell him.” She takes a deep breath and closes her jacket back up. “I wanted to wait until I knew if I even wanted to keep it or not. I didn’t know if I wanted to be attached to Tim for the rest of my life. But…when a few months went by, I thought about how much of a great dad he would be. So…so I was going to come here and tell him, and…and see if he wanted to try to make things work. I can’t believe I waited so long. I…” She buries her face back into my chest and I hold her.
“How far along are you, exactly?” I can’t help but ask.
“Almost five months. We had one last spontaneous romp when we bumped into each other at a concert. We both had been drinking and…well, you know, sometimes these things happen.”
“I have to ask the uncomfortable question: are you sure it’s his?”
“That’s valid.” She sighs. “I haven’t slept with anyone else. I went on a few dates after Tim and I broke up, but when I found out I was pregnant, I decided to focus on myself.”
“Alright.” I run a hand through my hair. “Tensions are high today. Come back to the house after the service. I think Georgette will be really excited about having a grandbaby. And we can give you a place to live, money towards pre-natal care, stuff like that, if you need it. I know how conservative your parents are…do they know?”
“No, I’m going to tell them after the baby’s born. I’m afraid they’d find a way to push me down the stairs or something. Your kindness and hospitality is much appreciated.”
“It’s what Tim would want.” I smile softly.
“I can’t believe how grown-up Rowan looks.” Delia nods towards her. “I mean, I know she’s twenty-six, but this is one of the first times it’s hit me that she’s not a little girl anymore.”
“I was thinking the same thing earlier.”
“Yeah? You were checking her out?” Delia smirks, and I feel my cheeks grow hot.
“No.” I say defensively. “Don’t be gross, Dee.” I shake off my embarrassment when I see Glen, his wife Priscilla, his son Malcom, and his daughter Elma. “I better go say hi to them. There are chairs if you need to sit.”
“Thank you, Harry.”
I go over to Glen and his family just as they’re wrapping up their hellos. I shake his hand and do my best to smile at my surrogate aunt and cousins. Me, Tim, and Malcom all graduated in the same year. I think Malcom was always jealous that Tim and I were closer, but the three of us did just about everything together for a while. And for the most part, we got along just fine.
“Isn’t it just terrible that funerals are the only times we really get together?” Elma dabs her eyes with a tissue. She’s three years younger than us. And even though I was never interested, Malcom gave me the, ‘don’t ever touch my sister’, talk when we were in high school, and he reminded me again when she turned eighteen. Then he got offended when I told him I’d never want to go out with Elma.
Malcom is just like his father in that he never understood why Tim and I never cut him in for partial ownership of the ranch. He claimed he could help and be useful, but this was something Adam had left to only Tim and myself, probably for a good reason, so we never cut Malcom in. Malcom is successful in his own right, having opened up his own real estate agency, not so cleverly called, Baker Realty. Elma is his accountant. Despite her faults, she’s a fucking whiz with numbers, I have to give her that. Neither of them are married with kids.
“Mrs. Baker.” The reverend comes over to us, addressing Georgette and not Priscilla. “We’ve filled in considerably. I think it’s time you all take your seats so we can begin. I believe Mrs. Styles is already sitting.”
“Yeah, Granny sat down right away.” I say and give Georgette my arm. I almost trip when Rowan takes my other arm. We all sit down in the front row of seats. I sit by Granny, Georgette sits next to me, and Rowan is on her other side. The rest of the family fills in the other seats. Delia sits behind us. I’m glad she’ll be off her feet for a bit. I feel Granny put her hand over mine and I turn to look at her. All she does is look at me and give me a soft smile. “Are you alright?” I whisper.
“It’s a terrible thing, to bury your child. It’s bringing back some tough memories, but I’m more so worried about you. You and Tim were attached at the hip. So, you just squeeze Granny’s hand any time it becomes to be too much, just like you did at your parents’ funeral.”
I kiss her temple then interlock our fingers. I don’t know what I’m gonna do when she eventually kicks the bucket.
The second the reverend begins, I feel my eyes water. Out of my peripheral, I can see tears sliding down Georgette’s cheeks. Rev talks about how we should look at things as a celebration of life and the ways we can keep Tim alive in our hearts going forward. Then he steps aside so others can speak. I take a deep breath and stand up first.
“To quote Emily Dickinson, ‘my friends are my estate’. This was true for Tim. Land, money…none of that mattered to him as long as his family was happy and healthy. Tim had to grow up fast after his father died. He stepped into the ‘man of the house’ role seamlessly. He took on a lot and never complained. Tim and I have been friends since kindergarten. I was instantly pulled in as a member of the Baker family. I’ll always be grateful to him for giving me a sense of normalcy. The world will be different without Tim.” Tears start sliding down my face, but I’m still able to speak without hiccups. “It hasn’t completely set in that I’ll never be able to go fishing with him, or go for a ride on our horses, or even muck out a stall with him again. Tim was my best friend, my brother…and I loved him.” I look back at his casket. “I’ll miss you, buddy.” I sit back down and Georgette mouths, ‘thank you’.
Rowan goes up next, but she’s only able to get a few sentences out before she has to sit back down. A couple of other friends share some kind words about Tim, and then we’re all standing up as he’s lowered into the ground. Rowan’s sob breaks me out of my trance. She sounds like she’s been stabbed. Turning to her, I open my arms and let her hug and hold onto me. She clutches to the lapels of my suit jacket, and I wrap my arms around her, resting my chin on the top of her head.
“It’s okay, honeybee.” I say, just above a whisper, “We’ll get through this.”
I see Malcom and he’s already looking at me, narrowing his eyes. I have no idea why.
We’re all eventually pried away from the gravesite, and back at the boy house. People are eating and drinking and sharing more stories about Tim. Some people are still crying, but it seems like everyone has a shoulder to lean on. I head into my home office for a minute alone, and to grab a beer out of the minifridge. Tim and I shared this space. We always joked around that it looked like an old detective’s office, with the desks pressed back-to-back.
Just as I’m taking the cap off my beer, Rowan comes in and closes the door behind her.
“We’re doing everything with the will tomorrow. Your mom figured Glen would put up a stink, and we didn’t want that happening today.”
“I wasn’t coming in here to talk about that. Delia just told us she’s pregnant and that you said she could live here if she needed to.”
“I’ll have her stay in your mom’s house. I don’t want her coming to me as some sort of surrogate boyfriend, or father to her baby.”
“I’m…gonna have to move back here to help out…aren’t I.” It’s not a question.
“I’m sure your mom would appreciate it.”
“The second I come back here, she’s going to-“
“Rowan, now really isn’t the time to be a whiny brat.” I snap. “None of this matters right now. Your brother died, can we just get through his funeral before we make things all about you?” I take a swig of my beer before setting it down. “I know you have a whole other life in LA. I’m not gonna twist your arm to make you come back, but it sure as shit would be nice if you did. I can’t run the ranch by myself, and I can’t rely on your mom. Tim would have wanted you to take over his share, and I’m fairly certain that’s stated in his will.”
“I’ll have to quit my job…I wouldn’t be able to come back right away. I’ll need to drive my car back. I’ll need help.”
“I’ll have your mom fly out to help you, and then she can drive back with you.”
“Not you?”
“No, I’ll be needed here.”
“Where would I live? If Delia’s gonna move in with Ma…are any of the smaller ranch houses available? You must save a couple for the Air BnB.”
“They’re all booked out, and all of the other houses are taken. If one opens up, it’ll go to Delia. She’ll only want to live with your mom for so long.”
“So…I’d live here?”
“What’s wrong with your house? It’s not like Delia’s taking over your room.”
“I cannot live under the same roof as my mother again.”
“Cut her some slack.”
“Right now, I have all the freedom in the world. If I move back in with her, she’s gonna start up with house rules and other bullshit.”
“And you think there wouldn’t be rules here with me?” I smirk, crossing my arms over my chest. “Because let me tell you, young lady, I have rules.”
“Oh?” She smiles, and it’s rather…flirty. I’m suddenly aware that we’re alone in a room with the door closed. “And what might those be?”
“You really want to live with me? This house is huge, but it’s not like every bedroom has an en suite. We’d be sharing a bathroom, this office-“
“I won’t mind being around you so much. I never have.” There she goes, being flirty again.
“Let’s just cross that bridge when we come to it, okay?”
“Okay.” She sighs. “Anyways, I only came in here to take a break from everyone. Thank you for speaking so nicely before. I wish I could’ve gotten all my words out.”
“You did your best. It’s not easy.”
“I should go check on Delia. She and I have a lot of catching up to do.”
I watch Rowan leave, biting into my cheek as I watch her hips sway. Did she have to wear such a tight dress? It’s completely appropriate with its high neckline, and it goes down just above her knees, but the way it accentuates her…assets…
I sit down at my desk and sigh, feeling sad when I look up and don’t see Tim sitting across from me. It’s at this time, I notice an envelope on my desk with my name on it. It’s Tim’s handwriting. I open it immediately:
“Harry, if I’m to perish in an untimely manor, there’s something you need to know. If I’m not around, then I won’t be there to make sure Rowan is alright. Even though she doesn’t come home as often, if something happens to me, she’ll come home. I want you to look out for her the same way I did. She’ll need a positive male force in her life, and I don’t want Uncle Glen or Malcom trying to do that. It has to be you.
This isn’t my secret to tell, but you should know that Rowan has a major crush on you. She does a good job to hide it, but I’m not an idiot, it’s clear from the way she looks at you. I don’t think you ever would, but my wish is that you never start a romantic relationship with her.
My reasoning behind this isn’t because you can be sort of promiscuous. I’ve seen you have wonderful relationships, so it’s not that I don’t think you’re capable. And it’s not because I don’t think you’re worthy of my sister. But if you were to ever get together, and it didn’t work out, there would be a rift between you and my family going forward. Tensions would rise, and it could ruin the peace we’ve built at Black Beauty. Even if you fall in love with her and truly think you could make it, don’t go after her. If she flirts with you or asks you out, turn her down. It’ll hurt and it’ll suck, but it’s what has to be done.
I know this seems insane, but I never want you to be on bad terms with my family. So, please, honor this wish of mine.”
I’m stunned. Did he really think I would ever jeopardize everything we’ve worked for? Flush sixteen years of work down the toilet just so I could fuck his sister? I don’t even like Rowan like that. And what was all that shit about her having a crush on me? I suppose the flirting makes sense, but that could also just be playfulness. I’ve never noticed her looking at me or anything. But then again, I was never looking at her.
Not until today.
What else is odd is that Tim never verbally spoke with me about this. Since Rowan is a decent chunk younger than us, he never had to give me the ‘don’t touch my sister’ talk the way Malcom felt the need to do with Elma. And why wouldn’t John just give this to me tomorrow when he reads out the will? Who found this, and who put it here?
This is not good. Not good at all.
**
Part One
Rowan
When my mother called to tell me that Tim had died suddenly, I was in a state of shock. I didn’t believe it, but also put her on speaker so I could immediately book my flight out to Hawthorn.
I only come home sporadically, for certain holidays. I wanted so much more out of life than smelling like horse shit and dirt. I went to college in LA, and pretty much never came home, moving there full time after graduation. I have a great job doing social media metrics and analysis. I work the job remotely, but I don’t think I’ll be able to do it and help out on the ranch at the same time. I’ll have to talk to my supervisor. I know I’ll have to move back here for good. Harry’s right, he needs me to take Tim’s share.
I suppose it won’t be all bad, being around Harry all the time. I’ve missed him. The way he held me today and just let me cry into him was everything I didn’t know I needed. I’m sure he still just sees me as Tim’s baby sister, but I could have sworn there was something different in his eyes when he looked at me today. It was like he was seeing me clearly for the first time in his life. It sent a wave of confidence running through me.
Five years is a big age difference. I knew that growing up. I knew nothing would ever happen between us, not until we were older, at least. Thirty-one and twenty-six doesn’t seem as huge. We’ve both matured, especially me. I’ve learned to take care of myself. That’s partially why I don’t want to move into my mother’s home. She’ll take everything I’ve done and squash it in a matter of minutes.
I love my mother, and it’s not that I don’t get along with her, but I have reasons as to why I moved away. I needed to breathe.
Every other minute, I get hit with a wave of reality. My brother is gone. He’s never coming back. I haven’t felt this lost or sad since my dad died. I was only nine when that happened. Tim took on so much and never complained, just as Harry said. He was so much more than a big brother to me. He and Harry taught me how to fish, start a fire at a campsite, to swim…Tim was always there for me. But so was Harry. He’ll make coming home much easier. And maybe, just maybe, he’ll start seeing me as more than just Tim’s little sister. We can deal with our grief together and help each other, and I can show him how adult I’ve become. I’m not a little girl anymore. I haven’t been for a very long time.
**
“Rowan, Tim’s share of the ranch goes to you.” John, our family’s attorney says. We’re all in the home office, listening. Harry’s barely looked in my direction. But I’m not holding anything against him. It’s a weird time. “If after a year you want out, Harry, and only Harry,” he looks at Malcom and Glen, “can buy you out.”
Okay, so if I hate it, I only have to stick around for a year. That’s not so bad.
“How does that make any sense?” Glen asks.
“Because the ranch is in a trust, and myself and Tim are the only ones allowed to sell and buy and do things with it, you jackass. Now it’ll be Rowan and I.” Harry huffs. “John, please continue.”
“The boy house is yours, of course. The girl house is still Georgette’s, but it’ll go to you and Rowan when she’s done with it. Tim leaves his personal affects to you, Harry, to do whatever you want to them. Is there a Delia Anderson present?”
“That’s me.” Delia raises her hand. I didn’t think my brother would have left anything for her. He didn’t know she was pregnant. “Tim…mentioned me in his will?”
“He stated that in the event of an untimely pass, he wanted to give you the money he had saved for an…engagement ring.”
“Oh my god.” She pinches the bridge of her nose, clearly trying not to cry. “I can’t believe I fucked up so badly with him.” She buries her face in her hands and sobs. My mother goes to her quickly, rubbing her back.
“Dee, you didn’t know this was going to happen.” Harry says softly. “You can do whatever you want with the money. Can set up a retirement account, or something for the baby.”
“Right.” Delia sniffles. “Thank you.”
“I thought Tim didn’t know you were pregnant.” Malcom says.
“He didn’t.” Delia snaps. “That’s just the kind of guy he was. We were together for four years. We still loved each other. We just needed to take a break.”
“John, is there anything else?” Harry asks.
“That was the last item.”
“Great, meeting adjourned.” Harry claps his hands together. “Everyone can leave now.” He looks at Glen and Malcom as he says this. “Bye, see you at the next holiday gathering. Malcom, we’ll get beers later in the week, yeah?”
“Alright.” Malcom nods with a sigh.
“So,” my mother says once the other Bakers are gone, “Rowan, how quickly do you think you’ll be able to pack and wrap things up at work?”
“I don’t know. At least two weeks.”
“Alright, I’ll fly out when you’re ready and we’ll drive back together.” Ma says. “That shouldn’t take more than a couple of days if we set our minds to it.”
“Okay.” I look at Harry who’s looking anywhere but me. “Harry, should we sit and go over things, like, what you’ll need me to do around here and all that?”
“I can have that ready for you for when you get back.” He says. “I need time to really sit and think about it.” He looks down at his watch. “I have to go. A few of us from the football team are meeting up for drinks to honor Tim. I think coach is gonna retire his jersey.”
“Oh, that would be so nice.” Ma says. “Go on, have a good time with the boys.”
With that, Harry leaves.
“Well, I should get my shit packed and get ready for my flight.” I say.
“So, you’re not leaving any friends or boyfriends behind?” Ma asks.
“I mean, I have friends out there, but I still have friends here. And no, I don’t have a boyfriend. I haven’t had a boyfriend in, like, eight months. I’ve been focusing on myself.”
“That’s good.” Delia chimes in. “Smart. I’ll drive you to the airport. It’ll give us time to catch up.”
“I’d like that.”
**
Two Weeks Later
Three days alone with my mother. It didn’t start off bad. She was happy I rented a U-Haul to hitch to my SUV. I wanted to bring my bed and bedframe home, and it made it easier to pack the U-Haul rather than my car. We stopped for one night and got a motel room. Conversation was surface level, but good. Neither of us wanted to talk about Tim because neither of us wanted to start crying.
We talked about how nice it was that a few of my friends helped me pack all my shit before my mom got there. That led to her asking questions about me not having dated much since my last boyfriend.
“I don’t know, Ma. It was like the more I talked about where I grew up and what I grew up doing, he started to get more condescending. He talked to me like I was simple, like as if I didn’t have an undergraduate degree and a master’s. Any time I asked if he’d come home with me for a holiday, he told me we should go to his family’s. He started mansplaining more and more. I didn’t like it, so I t up with him. He didn’t believe it at first, but I changed my locks, blocked his number, and held firm.”
After telling my mother that story, she told me she was proud of me, and then she started telling me stories about guys she went out with before my dad, and how my dad was a breath of fresh air compared to all those other guys, and how she hopes I’ll find my own breath of fresh air.
As we take the exit off the highway that leads into Hawthorn, she starts fidgeting.
“Honeybee, are you sure you’d rather live in the boy house with Harry? I mean, it’s called ‘The Boy House’, for a reason.”
“It’ll be easier, Ma. Harry and I talked about it. The office is here, we’ll be able to go to the sites together easier. Your house is like half a mile from here.”
“When did you two talk?”
“Last week, he called me and we went over a few things. Why?”
“No reason.” She shrugs. “He just usually keeps me in the loop, that’s all.” I notice her grip the wheel a little tighter. “It’s a little odd to be living with a man you’re not in a relationship with.”
“It’s like having any other kind of roommate.”
“You’ll be sharing that upstairs bathroom.”
“I’m aware.”
“Have you ever shared a bathroom with a man before?”
“Um, yeah, every day when Tim and I were living with you.” I sigh. “Ma, if I really have to go and he’s in there, I’ll go use one of the downstairs bathrooms.”
“What about if he brings a woman home?”
“He’s an adult, he can do whatever he wants.”
“Fine.” She concedes. “If at any time it becomes too much, though, you come home to me and Delia.”
“I will.”
Ma pulls into Black Beauty Ranch, then down the road to the boy house. A ton of people are waiting outside, and there’s a big sign draped along the porch that says, ‘WELCOME HOME, HONEYBEE!’ Times like these, I cherish being from a small town.
“Oh, wow.” I beam as I get out of the car. Sally, Harry and Tim’s executive assistant, is the first to hug me. She’s in her mid-fifties and incredibly sweet.
“Harry and I organized the whole thing.” She tells me. “The ranch hands are here to help. Some of the ladies made food for everyone, plenty to go around. Are all your boxes labeled by room?”
“Of course they are.” I smile.
“Good.” She smiles back at me and kisses my cheek. She looks at Eduardo, the foreman of the ranch hands, and says, “alright, send in the troops!”
Eduardo gives me a big hug after telling the ranch hands to start with the U-Haul.
“We missed you, kid.” He tells me.
“I missed you all too. I’m happy to be home and on the ranch.” A woman comes over to me and gives me a hug.
“Ro, I didn’t get a chance to see you at the funeral, I’m Sarah.”
“Oh! You’re the head of the events team.”
“I am.” She beams. “I was a year below your brother in school. I’m so excited that we’ll be able to work together in person, make all the social media stuff you do even better.”
“Yeah, Harry said I’ll probably be taking over the weekly meeting you have with him. I’m great at project managing. I’m looking forward to working with you too.”
“He said what?” Her smiles falls slightly.
“Well, it’s just that he meets weekly with Sally, and then with Eduardo. It would free up some time for him if I take over your weekly meeting, and I don’t mind. You have others on your team, right? Daryl and Janey, right?”
“Right.” She swallows.
“Sally, where’s Morgan?”
“I sent her off with Harry so I could be here.” Morgan is the admin below Sally. She takes care of more of the day-to-day things like general emails and phone calls. “They had to pick up a few heifers earlier today. They should be back in a bit. He really wanted to be here when you got here, but they couldn’t reschedule the sale.”
“Oh, it’s fine, I get it.” I wave her off. I watch as the ranch hands start bringing boxes into the house. I notice Sarah talking with my mother. My mother looks annoyed, but not with Sarah. She looks annoyed with whatever Sarah just told her.
Hmm. That’s…interesting.
After saying hello to a few more people, I start helping to bring my stuff inside. I’m certainly not going to sit around while everyone does everything.
I’m grateful that so many people made and brought food. We’re all hanging out in the kitchen, stuffing our faces. I told most of the people they could leave once all the boxes were in. I’m not going to let anyone unpack for me. That’s my responsibility. So, it’s just me, Sally, Ma, Eduardo, Sarah, and Delia. Thank fucking God for Delia. I always liked her, and even though she started dating Tim by the time I moved to LA, I still knew of her. She’s just a kind human being. I’m glad she’ll be part of our family again.
“Hello!” I hear Morgan from the mudroom. She comes into the kitchen and squeals. We run towards each other and hug. Morgan and I have been friends forever. I’m glad she’s working at the ranch. “Sorry, I probably smell like cow shit.”
“You don’t.” I laugh. “Are the heifers alright?”
“Yeah, they’re great. Harry’s down at the transition barn, he’ll be up in a few minutes.”
The transition barn is where all the new cattle go to get acquainted with the new surroundings. It’s comfortable and peaceful for the cattle.
“You know,” Morgan says after popping a cherry tomato into her mouth, “he was super anxious all day about getting back here. He really wanted to be part of the warm welcome.”
“He’s sweet like that.” Sally says. “He’s been fretting around the house for the past week making sure everything was in suitable condition for you.”
“Oh, I feel bad. He didn’t have to do anything special for me.” I frown.
“You know Harry.” Eduardo says. “Always looking out for honeybee.” He kisses my temple. “Well, I’m gonna head to my house. My darling wife has plans with her friends, so I need to go take over parent duty.”
“Bye, Ed, thanks so much for your help today.” I give him a hug, and he gives me a good squeeze before heading out.  
“I think it’ll be good if we all get going. Rowan needs time to unpack.” Sally says. “Sarah, come on, I’ll drop you off at your car.”
“No, please don’t go yet! Morgan’s staying to help me unpack my room and stuff. You’re all more than welcome to stay.” I tell them.
“I have a better idea, we’ll all go to Georgette’s.” Delia says. “We’ll have some dessert and coffee. Decaf, obviously.” She chuckles and cups her bump.
“Sounds good to me.” Sally says. “Let’s go, ladies.”
Sarah flashes the fakest smile in my direction, then leaves. My mother gives me a hug and goes out with Delia and Sally.
Morgan and I head up to my room.
“It’s not weird for you to be taking over Tim’s room?” She asks me.
“Nah, Harry actually said he preferred it. It’s better than leaving it like a shrine or turning it into an empty room. Besides, the only other bedrooms up here are at the other end of the hall, and this is the only bathroom up here. I love the Jack and Jill style.” I open the door. “It’s kind of cute that they put in a double vanity. I remember when they first showed us the bathroom layout when they were building it, and my mom point blank asked if they were more than just friends.”
“Ha! I know, they lived like two old ladies who have been ‘special friends’ for thirty years.” Morgan smirks. “Do you think he’ll get freaked out with all the girly stuff in the bathroom?” She looks at my box of products and toiletries.
“He’s a modern man, I don’t think a few razors and bottles of various products is going to be an issue.”
“What did LA do to you? You’re like one of those Tik Tok girls who uses like eight products just to wash their face.”
“Stop making fun of me.” I take the box from her and go into the bathroom. “All of this stuff helps. Now, my mini lazy Susan can go in this corner. That’s what I put all my makeup and brushes on. This little shelf organizer is for my mouth products. And this shelf organizer houses my morning and night time skin care routine products.”
“Why do you need sweat bands?”
“They’re not sweat bands.” I laugh and slide them onto my wrists. “They stop the water from running down my arms when I wash my face.”
“Okay, that’s valid.”
“There we go. Clean and organized and not in the way of his stuff. I love how big the counter is. We won’t even bump elbows if we’re in here at the same time.” We head back into my room and start organizing my closet. “I like to keep things color coordinated, and by type of article. So, all tank tops should be together, and so on.”
“You’re like Danny Tanner.”
“A clean and uncluttered room will keep me calm. It’s something I have control over, if that makes sense.”
“It does.” She nods. “I’ll start on this end with your dresses.”
“Thanks.” I smile.
Many hands make light work. One of the last boxes of clothes is what was in my underwear drawer.
“And who exactly were you wearing this sexy thing for?” She flings a thong at me.
“No one.” I laugh. “I wear them with my leggings.”
“That’s a sex thong.”
“It is not.” I pull out a pair of lace panties. “These are sex panties. The cheeky bottoms are the best for sex. They’re not alluring.” I hold them up to my bikini area. “Don’t you just wanna take these off with your teeth.”
“Um…” she covers her mouth, hiding a laugh. She nods to tell me to look behind me.
I turn around, still holding the panties to my crotch. Harry’s leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, and a smirk on his lips.
“Oh, hi, Harry.” I can feel my cheeks heating up.
“I can see you’ve settled in.” His smirk grows. “Nice panties.”
“Thanks.” I swallow. “I got them on sale at Victoria’s Secret.”
“Good for you.” He looks down at them, then back up at me. “I think they’ll look a lot better in your dresser drawer.”
“Right.” I ball them up and hold them behind my back.
“Do you need the bathroom? I’m desperate to shower.”
“It’s all yours.”
“Morgan, you should get going. You’re probably exhausted.”
“I am exhausted.” She sighs. “I was just waiting until you got in. There’s nothing weirder than being in a new space by yourself. Can’t have my girl feeling lonely.”
“Thanks for all your help.” I tell her and give her a hug.
“Don’t mention it. Night, Har.”
“Night, Morgan.” He watches her leave, then looks at me. “The room alright?”
“Yeah, it feels like my own.”
“Good.” He nods. “And everyone came by and helped? Sally and I organized everything.” He rubs the back of his neck.
“I know, she told me. Everyone was a huge help.”
“Did you, uh, like the banner?”
“I loved it.” I make my way closer, and go to hug him, but he stops me.
“Don’t. Uh…I stink. I’m gonna shower.”
I nod and watch him leave. Even though that was a little awkward, I’m glad he’s home.
I decide to change into an oversized T-shirt and bed shorts, then go downstairs. I never got to have dessert earlier, and I need something sweet.
**
Harry
Any other guy would’ve been freaked out by all the feminine touches Rowan’s added to the bathroom, but I don’t mind. It makes it feel like home again. I was getting sick of only seeing my stuff around. I packed all of Tim’s stuff up and put it in the attic.
The only thing I need to be mindful of is I can’t walk around in just a towel anymore, or only in my briefs. I made sure to buy a ton of pajama pants and T-shirts. There’s a lady in the house now, I can’t be all exposed.
My stomach growls, so after I get dressed, I head down to the kitchen. Rowan’s already there, sitting up on the counter, eating something right out of the container.
“What’s that?” I ask, smirking.
“Oreo trifle.” She says, licking her spoon. “Want some?”
“Maybe in a bit. I need real food first.”
“How are the heifers?”
“Snug as a bug in a rug.” I sigh. “One of them is little, very cute. They’re all for milking and breeding. No slaughtering.”
“Yeah, we just save the slaughtering for the men.” She grins, and I grin back as I grab some Mac n cheese out of the fridge. I grab a fork and eat out of the dish. If she can do it, then so can I.
“God, Sally’s husband makes the best pulled pork Mac.”
“It was a real crowd pleaser. I made sure to save you some.”
“Thanks, honeybee.” I ruffle the hair on the top of her head, and she swats my hand away.
“Don’t.” She whines. “Can I ask you about Sarah?”
“What’s up?”
“That’s what I want to know. I told her you said I’d be taking over the one on ones with her, and she got sort of upset. Do you guys have a secret thing or something?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Then what’s her problem with me?”
“Sarah and I dated for, like, a second in high school. We stayed friends afterwards. She’s great at being the head of the events team, an excellent colleague. But, selfishly, I want you to take over the weekly meetings because I don’t always feel comfortable meeting alone with her.”
“Why not?”
“She’s a little bit attached to me.”
“From having a high school romance?”
“Well, I was sort of her…first.”
“First what, boyfriend?”
“No, her first.”
“Kiss?”
“No.”
“I’m at a loss.”
“Rowan, I was the first guy she had sex with.”
“Oh! Oh my God, I totally forgot people actually had sex in high school.”
“You didn’t?” I don’t know why I’m so surprised.
“No, I was way too scared of getting pregnant and having to drop out. I didn’t have sex until I was nineteen, and on birth control.”
“And somewhere that Tim couldn’t scare off any boyfriends.”
“That too.” She nods. “How old were you?”
“I don’t know, fifteen?”
“That means Sarah was fourteen!”
“What? No.” I laugh. “I was seventeen when I had sex with her, and she was sixteen.”
“You were having sex with multiple people?”
“Well, yeah. Who was gonna stop me, my granny?” I smirk. I seem to be doing a lot of that with Rowan.
“Good point.” She scoops some more trifle onto her spoon, but before she can bring it to her mouth, I snatch her wrist and take the spoonful into my own. “Hey.” She pouts.
She locks eyes with me, and I take the spoon from her. “This is good. Who made it?”
“No idea.”
I shrug and go in for more, but instead of eating it, I hold up the spoon to her mouth, and she takes the dessert into her mouth. She takes the spoon from me, and I lean both of my hands on the counter on either side of her hips. She feeds me another scoop. I don’t think I’ve ever been this close to her before. I can see every little freckle that’s speckled over her nose and cheeks. I stick my finger in the trifle and smear it onto the tip of her nose before standing up straight.
“What’d you do that for?” She laughs.
“I don’t know, felt like it.”
“Ohhhh, okay.” She takes the spoon, that’s full of trifle, and presses it onto my nose so it stays there.
I take a deep breath and remove the spoon. I pick up the container and reach for her head. She squeals and hops down from the counter.
“What’s the matter? I just wanna talk.” I say.
“No, you want to shove my face into that.”
“No, really, I just wanna talk.” She races to the fridge and pulls out a pie. “Is that supposed to scare me?”
“I don’t know.” She walks towards me. “You tell me.”
“Alright, Baker, drop the pie, and no one has to get hurt.”
“Drop that trifle first, Styles.”
“We’ll put them both down on three. One, two, thr-“
“Harry, what’s that?!”
“What?!” I look behind myself and don’t see anything. I turn back to her and then…chocolate cream pie is being thrusted into my face. “Rowan.” I say lowly, wiping pie out of my eyes. “I literally just showered.”
“Guess you’ll have to spend extra time on your skin care routine.” She snatches the trifle from me and puts it back in the fridge.
“You know what? You’re right. I’m so glad you’re here.” I open my arms. “Come give me a hug.”
“No way.” She laughs.
“Come on.” I start walking towards her.
“Harry!” She squeals and I snatch her just in time, and I rub my cheeks all over hers. “Stop, stop!” She laughs, and that’s when I start tickling her sides. “I tap out!” I let her go and wipe my face with my shirt. “Gross.”
“Welp, you’re in the boy house now, darlin’.” I make sure to add my best country accent, and she pushes my shoulder. “Get used to it.”
“Ugh, come on.” She takes my hand and pulls me out of the kitchen.
“Where are we going?”
“To the bathroom.” She tugs me upstairs and into our newly shared bathroom. “Sit.” She pushes me to sit on the lidded toilet. Then, she pushes some sort of head band onto me to pull my hair back. “I’m doing myself first. You can sit there and wait.” She puts an identical headband on, along with two sweatbands on her wrists.
“Sweatbands?”
“Oh my God, Morgan said the same thing. They’re not sweatbands, they help make it so water doesn’t run down my arms.” She flips the hot water on and dabs at her face with a washcloth.
“How many products do you use?”
“Well, first, I fully wash my face.” She does so, and I watch her. “Then, I pat dry. Once the skin is dry, I use a cotton pad and rub cleanser onto my skin, followed by toner.”
“And what do those do?”
“Cleanse the skin-“
“Didn’t you just do that?”
“No, I exfoliated. You exfoliate and then you cleanse. The toner helps with pigmentation and scarring.” She dabs it onto her skin. “Lastly, a light, oil free, nighttime moisturizer.” She fans her face afterwards. She sits up on the counter, then gestures for me to come to her. “Okay.” She dips a new washcloth into the hot water in the sink, then presses it to my face, over and over, getting it wet. Then, she pumps her exfoliant into her hands, rubs them together, and starts working it into my face. “Close your eyes.”
“Sorry.” I close them and try to relax. It feels kind of good to have her massaging my face.
“I’m draining your lymph nodes.” She explains. “Feels good, right?”
“Yeah.”
“You should really get a professional facial done sometime. They’re life changing.”
“Hey, honeybee?” She hums her response. “You’re not in LA anymore.”
“I’m well aware.” She dips the washcloth into the water and starts rinsing my face. “There are spas in Hawthorn.”
“I’d have to go out of town.”
“That can be arranged.” She pats my face dry with a cloth, then starts putting the cleanser on with a cotton pad, followed by the toner. “Some time you should let me put one of those blackhead strips over your nose after a shower.”
“Is it that bad?”
“No, but it wouldn’t hurt to do it occasionally. With all the sunscreen you wear, and all the dirt from the ranch, your pores get clogged like crazy.” She rubs the moisturizer into her hands, then spreads it over my face. “There, all clean.”
“Wow.” I look at myself in the mirror. “M’all glowy.”
“Yup.”
“Are you gonna do this for me every night?”
“Do you want me to?”
“Yeah, kinda.” I can’t help but laugh.
“Then you can pitch in for the products. I’m happy to help you with skincare. Just wait until the morning routine.”
“I’ll be counting down the minutes.” I take the headband off. “Is it okay to brush my teeth now, or will that throw everything off?”
“Don’t sass me.” She hops down and grabs her toothbrush. “Brush away.”
We take care of the rest in a comfortable silence, lingering after we’re done.
“Well, I guess…this is goodnight.”
“Did you finish unpacking your room? Do you need help with anything else?”
“Just putting away clothes. All my furniture is built and in place. You’re probably exhausted.”
“I’ve caught a second wind. I’ll come hang out while you finish. You’ll feel better if it’s all done tonight.” I follow her into her bedroom. “Any other lingerie you wanna show me?” I ask as I lay back on her bed, crossing my arms behind my head.
“Very funny.” She rolls her eyes with a smile. “I don’t have a ton of frilly things.” She bends over and picks up a ton of socks to put in her top drawer. I decide to sit up and see what other boxes she has. There’s one that’s labeled, ‘bedside table’, so I open it. I want to be helpful. I notice her double take as I rip the tape open. “Harry, wait!”
“What?” I look down and I feel my cheeks flush.
“Don’t you know that a woman’s bedside table is filled with her…goodies?!”
“Jesus, look at this thing.” I pull out a rather large, purple, silicon dildo. The internal end has ridges on it, and the external attachment is diamond shaped. I’ve never seen one like this before. “This is huge, it actually fits in you?”
“Don’t touch it!” She snatches it, and the box, from me, putting it back in. “Weirdo.”
“We’re adults.” I lean back on my hands. “It’s a bonding experience for us as roommates. Now answer my question.”
“Of course it fits in me. It’s my favorite one. It’s called a g-thumper. The inside thumps and vibrates against my…my spot.”
“Why is the external part diamond shaped? I’ve only ever seen rabbit ears, or those ones that are for suction.”
“It…Harry, this is embarrassing.”
“Just answer the question.”
“It kind of slips between and under the hood, so everything gets stimulated. It vibrates.”
“Ohhhhh.” I nod. “Cool. What else do you have in there?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“You shoved a pie in my face. Show me your goodies.”
“Why? So if you hear me you’ll have a better picture for your imagination?”
“Don’t be gross. I’m not a voyeur.”
“You’re only a voyeur if you’re watching.”
“Whatever, you know what I mean. Come on, teach me what women actually like to use. You just did the same thing with the skincare. You have to unpack the box regardless.”
“Fine.” She kneels on the floor and opens her bedside table drawer. “I have organizers for them and their chargers. I already put those in. Okay, so you’ve met big purple. This one is just for internal use, it thrusts on its own.” She holds up a pink silicon dildo. “And this one is just for external use, but I can never get it to work right, and takes too much effort to use, but it’s nice to use with a partner.”
“Why with a partner?”
“So the guy can focus on the fucking.” She closes the top drawer, then opens the bottom one. “Here’s my toy cleaner. And my different lubes. There, are you happy now?”
“Yup, very.” I lay back down with my arms crossed behind my head. “Continue on with your clothes.”
“Gee, thanks.” She shakes her head. “What toys do you use?”
“I don’t use any on myself.”
“Really?”
“Well, not when I’m alone.”
“Now, why is it okay for you to use one with a partner, but not me?”
“It’s not that it’s not okay, I just don’t think a lady should have to worry about getting herself off. That’s the man’s job. He should be in charge of the toy. Or at least telling you where to use it.”
“Harry?” She sits on the end of the bed.
“Hm?”
“You know what’s nice about not being related to you?”
“No, tell me.”
“I could never have a conversation like this with Tim. It would be weird. I…I was really hoping for us to grow closer with me moving here, really be friends, you know? Even though I’m still five years younger than you, that age difference doesn’t feel so big anymore.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“Do you think…I mean, I can’t talk to my mom about Tim, she’ll get sad in a way I can’t even comprehend, but do you think if it’s a particularly hard day that I could come to you, and we could talk about Tim?”
“I’d like that.” I sit up and give her shoulder a squeeze. “I don’t like talking to your mom about him either. It would be nice to have someone to talk to.”
“I’m really glad you’re letting me live here with you.”
“I never would have said no. It’s been so quiet these last two weeks, I’m really glad you’re here.”
She throws her arms around me, and I wrap mine around her. I feel my neck getting wet, she’s crying.
“Sorry.” She lets go of me and wipes her tears.
“Don’t be.” I cup her cheeks and rub her tears away with my thumbs. “It’s okay to cry.”
“Harry…could I ask you to do me a massive favor? It’s going to seem really childish, and you can feel free to say no, but…would you lay with me until I fall asleep? I always have trouble sleeping in a new space for the first time.”
“Yeah, I can lay with you.”
“Thank you.” She leans in and I turn my face, her lips pecking my cheek.
“Go on, get under the blankets.”
She nods and crawls to the other side of the bed. I’m not planning to sleep in here the whole night, so I don’t bother getting under the blankets with her. I turn the light off, and keep my arms crossed behind my head. Rowan cuddles up next to me and rests her head on my chest. I let one of my arms fall around her.
“Goodnight, Harry.”
“Goodnight, Rowan.”
**
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happymimi01 · 2 years ago
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i am currently working on another wally animation- but this time! it is going to be a full animation and not just another gif! i might finish in a 5-10 hours or two days depending on how motivated i am
Heres a little part of the sketch ;3
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sorry i made him bald- ITS JUST A SKETCH
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the-boy-meets-evil · 9 months ago
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not according to plan | hjs
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summary: your ex-fiance is getting married and everyone you know is going to be there. when he calls to ask if you're coming, you accidentally mention a boyfriend. which would be fine, if you weren't very single. thankfully your best friend comes through with the perfect solution when he sets you up with a friend of his. what could possibly go wrong?
pairing: joshua x f.reader genre: fake dating, strangers to friends to ?? | fluff, slight angst, smut rating: explicit, minors DNI word count: ~22.1k notes/warnings: johnny suh as the ex-fiancee (sorry, he's not great in this), other idols born in '95 used as background characters, mentions of past cheating, food & alcohol, lots of "dates", reader is referenced as coming from a rich family, mention of being an escort (minus the sex?) smut warnings: making out, multiple smut scenes (kind of, it could be a continuation), multiple orgasms, teasing, they're both v obsessed with each other's bodies, protected sex, fingering, nipple play, oral sex (f. receiving), scratching/marking, squirting, overstimulation, use of lube, i think that's it (but let me know if it's not)
author's note: this fic is dedicated to the lovely @shuadotcom, i'm so sorry it took me literal months to finish fake dating!joshua but here we are anyway. i'm not sure how this one got so away from me either lmao. banner credit to the beautiful @wongyuseokie who (again) did this very last minute. thank you to @wonwussy & @kwanisms for the mid-fic beta. thank you to @wooahaeproductions, @horanghater, @cheolism, & @hannieween for listening to me talk about this and helping with things like petnames & dates.
taglist at the end (& join my permanent taglist here)
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“It’s fine, it’s been years and I’m over it. Plus, I’ve been seeing someone anyway and he’s great. So I wasn’t ignoring your invite,” you say without a second thought. 
It’s just a stream of consciousness. The lie comes flying out of your mouth faster than your brain can process it. That’s exactly what it is, too. A lie. You’re not seeing anyone and haven’t been in a serious relationship since the person on the other end of the call broke your heart. 
“Oh, wow, sorry, I didn’t mean to…well, I didn’t know. My mom didn’t say anything when she said she had spoken to your mom about whether or not you were coming to the wedding,” Johnny says with a little bit of ramble. 
“You know how my mom can be, I haven’t had the chance to tell her yet,” you deflect. 
“I’m happy for you, then,” Johnny says. 
“Thanks, I’m happy for you, too,” you force out. Somehow, it doesn’t sound like the lie you know that it is.
“So, it’s not weird, then? I mean our moms are best friends, so the rest of your family is all going to be there. A lot of your friends will be there. I know you haven’t RSVP’d yet, but…” Johnny starts.
“Nope! Not weird at all,” you utter, hoping that your voice sounds even. “It’d be weirder if I wasn’t there, right?” 
“Probably, yeah,” Johnny says. “That’s great, though. Do you want me to mark you down as a yes? I can even add a plus-one, if you want to bring your partner.” 
“That’s so thoughtful, but I wouldn’t want to put you out. I know how expensive weddings can be,” you say and try to sound sincere.
“No, it’s no issue, actually. We have a few extra seats that we left just in case we forgot someone or didn’t know about someone’s partner,” Johnny presses. “So we’ll see you both there?”
“Yeah, you will,” you hurry out. This conversation needs to be over. 
It’s only an hour after hanging up with your ex-fiancee that your mom calls to tell you she can’t believe she had to hear it from Mrs. Suh that you’re dating someone. Which includes a whole lot of deflecting and promises about when she can meet this mystery man. Another twenty minutes after you hang up with your mom, you get a pointed text from your younger sister. The two of you haven’t ever been all that close, so she shouldn’t be surprised that you haven’t mentioned him. She made her side pretty clear when she maintained her friendship with Johnny’s new fiancée. That new fiancee, a close friend of your sisters, also just so happened to be the girl he cheated on you with. So, she can hardly expect to have a close sister bond. Yet, she seems oddly suspicious that she didn’t know you were seeing someone seriously. 
Your quiet Saturday afternoon turns into a full blown headache all thanks to one call from the asshole that you really thought you left in the past. Of course, now is the perfect time for him to pop back up. Now, when you’re even between any sort of casual sex. Now, when you don’t even have someone that you can call up to pretend to date you. This is going to be one of the worst calls that you have to make when you have to admit you made it all up, that you will absolutely not be showing your face at the wedding, and you will also be changing your name before moving away.
For now, you do the only thing that you can think of doing. You call the only person that can give you any perspective on this whole fucking disaster. 
“Well hello,” your best friend answers. 
“Jeonghan, I fucked up,” you say without preamble. 
“This is gonna be good,” he responds. 
“I just got off the phone with my mom,” you begin.
“What did she want?” he asks, knowing that it won’t be anything good.
“Well, you know, to talk about this new boyfriend of mine,” you continue.
“You haven’t dated anyone in forever,” Jeonghan chuckles. 
“Thank you for that,” you snark. “And then, of course, I get a text from my perfect sister wondering why she’s also just hearing about this boyfriend of mine.” 
“Why do your sister and your mom think you’re dating someone?” Jeonghan asks.
“Oh, well, you know. Johnny called today,” you offer.
“Fuck that guy,” Jeonghan interjects.
“He wanted to know why I hadn’t responded to his wedding invite and assumed it was awkward because I was single, so I told him I was seeing someone,” you finally finish.
“For fuck’s sake,” Jeonghan says into the silence and you can imagine his face.
“Right? My life is a fucking mess and now Johnny thinks that I’m bringing my boyfriend,” you groan.
“I’ll start planning the story for why you suddenly left town,” Jeonghan says. 
“For real, my life is over,” you whine.
“What are you gonna do?” Jeonghan asks softly. 
This is really why you called him. Jeonghan is a shithead, sometimes, and he can be a bit of a chaos demon. He also can be a bit of a schemer, especially when it comes to winning a game. But, he’s unfailingly kind and caring to the people he holds dear. He absolutely hates getting into any kind of real conflict with his friends. There’s that whole side to him that honestly wouldn’t hurt a fly and always has a way to comfort. That’s the side that you get now. 
“I don’t know,” you answer, voice just as quiet. “I’m just…I don’t want to let him win, you know?”
And Jeonghan does know. You’ve been friends since before you started dating Johnny. Even though he never liked him, Jeonghan supported you in your relationship. When Johnny proposed, he called your other friends and set up the best engagement party anyone could ask for. From the outside, nobody would ever know that he hated your partner. Honestly, he’s the best friend anyone in the world could ask for. 
Before he got around to setting up the bridal shower, which he’d been quietly planning for months, your whole world turned upside down. Johnny cheated, had been cheating awhile, actually, and Jeonghan was there to pick up the pieces. Somehow, he was the only one that seemed to make it better, probably because he didn’t want to act like things were okay when they weren’t. It was easy to cry in front of him, easy to be vulnerable, easy to just let the process play out so you could heal. Even though he never liked Johnny, he also didn’t say he told you so. This had never been something that crossed his mind. 
“Okay, you’re gonna hate it, but I have an idea,” Jeonghan says.
“Those are never comforting words coming from you,” slips out of your mouth.
“Usually I’d yell at you, but…” he trails off. 
“I swear, if you’re about to say that we pretend to be dating like some romcom, I will hang up the phone,” you warn.
“First of all, that’s rude, I’m a great boyfriend,” Jeonghan says. 
“I never said you weren’t, Hannie, you know I think you’re gorgeous,” you sigh. 
“That’s true, I am,” Jeonghan says through a laugh.
“But, I also know you remember what an unmitigated disaster it was when we fucked,” you point out, earning an even louder laugh. 
“Wow, and here I thought that it was actually great sex,” he says. 
“I’m not gonna keep stroking your ego, I already admitted you were gorgeous. I don’t need to praise the sex, too,” you declare.
“Stroking my…come on, you’re making it too easy,” Jeonghan points out.
“Funny, because I remember you being the easy one that night,” you say, finally managing to get a shot in.
“I hate you,” Jeonghan snorts. 
“I know,” you answer. “Didn’t you say that you had an idea?” 
Jeonghan clears his throat. “Right, yeah. Well, I know this guy and maybe he can help you out.” 
“What is he, an escort?” you snort out.
“Do you want my help or not?” Jeonghan asks.
“Yoon Jeonghan, are you about to set me up with an escort?” you challenge.
“No, of course not, just trust me,” he says.
Just trust me might be the three most terrifying words that could come out of Jeonghan’s mouth, especially when you’re not usually on the receiving end of his schemes. It’s not like you have much choice, though. The wedding is in six weeks and you have to find a solution, fast. So, what choice do you have other than trusting your best friend? How could this go wrong? 
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You still think this is a terrible idea, yet agree to meet Jeonghan’s friend, Joshua, anyway. Apparently, he’s somewhat new to the area, doesn’t know many people, and is incredibly easy to be around. There’s no mention of why Jeonghan thinks he might be willing to pretend to be your boyfriend. A part of you wonders if your friend even told him, but he’s not that cruel. So, whatever the case, Joshua must at least have some idea of what he’s walking into. 
Several days pass between the nightmare of a call from Johnny and you actually meeting Joshua, which only adds to your anxiety about whether or not this is going to work. Johnny is asking for a name for the seating chart and for dinner selections. Your mom wants to know when they’ll be able to meet this new boyfriend before the wedding (because “meeting him for the first time at a wedding is gauche” and we wouldn’t want that). Your sister is convinced that he doesn’t actually exist since you haven’t posted him on social media. That you can at least answer to say that not everyone posts their entire life online like she does. It doesn’t seem to allay her suspicions, though. 
Then, there’s the fact that you’re actually meeting Joshua for the first time at dinner. All you wanted was to go for coffee, yet he insisted. You couldn’t exactly press the point. Not when you’re planning to ask this stranger to pretend to date you just so that you can avoid the embarrassment at your ex’s wedding. On top of that, because Jeonghan really is a demon at his core, you don’t know what Joshua looks like. Don’t know who to look for. Which leads to you doing the only sensible thing and showing up 5 minutes late for dinner, hoping that he’ll already be at the table when you get there.
It works.
When you give the reservation name at the host stand, you’re immediately led back to a table. Without even thinking about it, you smooth your hands down the front of your dress, looking for a small amount of comfort in this situation. It’s not even that you struggle around new people, this is just…well, it’s a lot. It’s out of anyone’s comfort zone. Whatever you’re expecting, it’s not the man sitting at the table the host leads you to. He nearly stops you in your tracks. 
His black hair is perfectly styled down to the pieces on one side that come down over his forehead. The black dress shirt he wears is open at least one button too many, but he makes the exposed chest look work in a way models would envy. Even though his pants are black as well, he makes it look classic and effortless, rather than too dark. That’s all without even acknowledging the soft smile on his face. This man would break a thousand hearts without even saying a damn word. While you’re appreciating him, you miss the way his eyes rake over you appreciatively. Miss the way his eyes trace your curves and the way the dress clings to you. 
In one fluid motion, he’s standing up to greet you, a gentle kiss placed on your cheek. Is it weird if your knees are a little weak? Well, even if it is, there’s nothing you can do. You’re completely captivated. 
“You must be Joshua,” you say. Brilliant, you think. That’s obvious.
“It’s nice to meet you. Jeonghan had nothing but good things to say,” he answers with another smile as he pulls your seat out for you. 
“I feel like he hardly told me about you,” you respond. Joshua raises a perfect eyebrow at that.
“Then why did you agree to go out with me?” Joshua asks. 
“Go out with…is this a date?” The question comes tumbling out. 
Joshua’s eyes widen in genuine confusion. “Is it not?” 
“What, exactly, did Jeonghan say to you?” 
A lot and nothing at all, it turns out. Joshua tells you about how he’s somewhat new to the area, which you knew. About how he met Jeonghan through work, kind of. They work in the same building doing very different things and happened to run into each other getting coffee a handful of times before Jeonghan introduced himself. The two had hung out several times, something Jeonghan had not really mentioned, and gotten to know each other over drinks more than once. The very first time, Jeonghan had mentioned you and Joshua admits immediately being intrigued without pressing for more information. 
In any case, Jeonghan talked about you pretty freely, a fact that’s hardly surprising. Before Joshua texted you, Jeonghan had mentioned, in what Joshua calls an offhand way, that you were sick of dating the same people. According to Joshua, through Jeonghan, you were looking to possibly be set up. (Read: Jeonghan thinks he’s crafty and isn’t going to come out and tell this man what you’re really looking for. Typical Jeonghan, honestly. You know that “offhand comment” was anything but. And you had the audacity to think Jeonghan would have to tell Joshua what he’s getting into. Rookie move.)
Now you’re in a bit of an awkward situation because this man is honestly gorgeous, one of the prettiest humans you’ve ever met. And, already, he seems like he might be sweet with a pretty good sense of humor. It’s just…well, you’re absolutely not looking for a relationship and this is the last person you want to get involved in your mess. Thankfully, you get a moment to catch your breath when someone comes by to take a drink order and suggest an appetizer. It’s just enough time for you to talk yourself into telling Joshua the real story.
To his credit, he only looks mildly surprised as you outline your whole situation, inform him that yes, Jeonghan does know all of this, and clarify why you didn’t actually realize it was a date. It’s hard to miss the way his eyes seem to sparkle a bit when you also admit that he’s absolutely stunning in a way that hurts your feelings. Easier to miss is the way his face barely falls when you say that you’re not actually looking for something right now. Interesting. 
“So that’s the whole thing and now that I’ve embarrassed myself in front of you, I’m sure you’ll understand if we never see each other after tonight,” you finish.
“How am I supposed to go to a wedding as your boyfriend in a matter of weeks if we don’t see each other after tonight?” Joshua wonders.
“I…what?” you sputter out. 
“Well, sure, we need to work out a few details, but I’m game,” Joshua says with a shrug.
“I’m sorry, I think I’m just really confused?” You don’t even have food yet and this is already the most interesting date you’ve been on, possibly ever. 
“I, uh, may have left a part of my past out when I was sharing what Jeonghan knew about me,” Joshua says. “And honestly, I can’t believe I didn’t catch it or that he did this. I’d be mad if I wasn’t so impressed by how crafty it was.” 
“I’m going to need you to connect some dots for me,” you admit. “Oh and also never tell Jeonghan you appreciate him being crafty. His ego is too big as it is.”
“The first time Jeonghan and I hung out, we went out for drinks, got a little wasted, and I told him about how I got through my university studies without any debts,” Joshua says, pausing long enough for someone to set the appetizer down. “He’s observant, Jeonghan, I’ll give him that. He noticed I had designer clothes, shoes, that kind of thing. And he noticed I didn’t pay attention to the prices of the drinks. So I made a vague comment about being lucky to have found a way through my studies without taking out loans.”
“I’m sure he asked you about that, he loves it when he thinks there’s a scheme,” you note with a smile.
“You’re right about that,” Joshua agrees. “So I, well I told him. When I was in school, I met this woman out one night and she paid me to go to events with her. She wanted, and these were her words, ‘someone young and hot’ with her. And the next four years, that’s what I did. I let people pay for me to go to events with them. Never more than that. I was clear that I wasn’t selling sex or anything, just company.” 
You lean back in your seat with an appraising look. “An entrepreneur from the beginning.” 
“Hey, no judgment,” Joshua says. All you can do is smile.
“I’m not judging, that was really smart and you’re obviously attractive enough for it,” you acknowledge.
“Thank you,” Joshua says. It doesn’t have the air of cockiness Jeonghan’s answer would. He actually seems sincere in accepting the compliment. 
“But, I’m still not going to pay you to pretend to be my boyfriend,” you say, even if it’s a bit reluctant. 
“I wasn’t asking you to,” Joshua shrugs. “You don’t have to pay me.”
“Why would you offer to pretend to do something like this? You don’t even know me,” you point out.
“No, I don’t. But, you seem like a good person. And I like Jeonghan, he’s nice…” Joshua says, stopping when you try to cover a scoff. 
“Nice?” you question when you’re caught.
“Wrong word choice,” Joshua dismisses. “He seems like the kind of person that’s a loyal friend, like he would go into battle to protect you. Like someone you can actually trust.”
“He is all of those things, yeah,” you admit.
“And if those things are true, then him holding you out as his best friend means you’re probably all of those things too,” Joshua reasons. 
“I try to be,” you agree. 
“Plus, Jeonghan did mention you had seriously dated someone that was pretty rich, so I figure it’s probably the guy getting married and it’ll be a nice wedding,” Joshua says with a smile. The joke is obvious by the look in his eyes.
“It’s interesting that he mentioned Johnny, that’s my ex, being rich,” you idly comment.
“Is he not?” Joshua wonders.
“Jeonghan is a lot of things, but he’d never lie to his friends,” you answer first. “So, yeah, he is. Well, his family is at least. His mom and mine run a lot of events together, like galas and shit. That’s how we all know each other.”
“Are you rich, too?” Joshua wonders. There’s that little twinkle of something in his eyes again, but there’s also sincerity.
“I’m still not paying you,” you retort.
“Fine,” Joshua agrees. 
You roll your eyes. “Okay, so what’s the plan?” 
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There’s a weird world’s colliding feeling to having both Jeonghan and Joshua in your apartment. But, Jeonghan doesn’t like to be left out of things. Once you told him that you and Joshua both knew about his scheming, he offered to help in any way he could. Which is likely just so he’s included. You’ll take what you can get. Now, it means that he and Joshua are sitting on your couch, scrolling through pictures on Joshua’s phone to decide what to include in an instagram post. That’s the first step you and Joshua agreed on. If you’re going to sell this whole fake relationship, then your sister actually is right. There has to be some sort of proof of it online. Which also means that your post has to talk about how you’ve been keeping it quiet and just enjoying getting to know each other without any pressure. Jeonghan takes credit for that, even if you got there on your own. 
“I think I like this one,” Jeonghan says and turns the phone around to show you. 
“Why that one?” you ask. 
“Why not? Don’t you like it?” Joshua worries.
“I don’t know, I feel like my hand is doing something weird,” you point out.
“You look great,” Joshua assures you.
“Oh, ew, you’re not really dating,” Jeonghan complains. 
“You do know you’re going to have to stop saying that, right?” you ask.
“Maybe I didn’t know either,” Jeonghan shrugs.
“No, I’m with her, you’re her best friend and you definitely would’ve known,” Joshua agrees. 
“Why are you on her side already?” Jeonghan whines.
“Because she’s cool and she’s not the one who knew what I did in college and set me up,” Joshua says with a laugh. 
This is how it’s been going for the last hour. You’re not really much for putting a lot of effort into your posts, so this all feels like too much. But, you know that it’s important for it to feel real and it’s important to get it right. You’re honestly pretty happy to just let the guys take the lead and go with the flow of it all. There are going to be plenty of opportunities for you to take the lead. You’re going to take your breaks where you can. 
(That had also meant not putting up too much of a fight when Jeonghan told you to bring multiple outfits with you. Or when you had to change your hairstyle and makeup between the photos so it looked like they hadn’t all been taken the same day. Honestly, this was so much easier for Joshua. Then again, he’s the one doing you a favor. So maybe you can let him have it.)
After you finally get your couple pictures posted, and get a flurry of messages ranging from surprise to congratulations, you move onto preparing Joshua to meet your parents, your sister, and her husband. Jeonghan is actually a lot of help with that because he’s been around them a lot. Well, he’s helpful after he tries to scare Joshua about how intimidating it’s going to be only to give up when Joshua is unbothered. He’s so calm about everything that it’s actually kind of nice to be around. And he has no problem firing back at Jeonghan, which is really fun to watch. 
You go through what your parents are like, what they do both for work and as hobbies. Joshua perks up at the mention of your dad loving music and sometimes spending his weekends just exploring new venues. It seems like there might be more to that, though you don’t press when he waves it off. It’s different when you talk about your sister, two years younger and already married. Not that you’re dying to be married or even care that she got married before you. That’s always seemed like a weird societal expectation, anyway. What does it matter when anyone gets married? If it’s their right person, then it makes sense. You being upset over your failed engagement really doesn’t have anything to do with your sister’s marriage, despite her instance it does. 
It becomes obvious that you’re losing Jeonghan’s attention when you turn down his request to start playing games or watch a movie. It’s not that you don’t want to do those things, it’s just that you have a lot to cover in far less time than you realized. Sure, the wedding is still weeks away. What’s not weeks away is your first dinner with your family. That’s going to be around the corner. The least you could do, you figured, was plan a time before posting pictures on instagram. So, Jeonghan asks if it’s okay to leave and you almost sigh in relief. This will be easier without an extra person.
“Not to pry, but what’s the deal with you and Jeonghan?” Joshua asks when you settle back on the couch with a glass of wine. 
“What do you mean?” you ask.
“I don’t know, I feel like I was picking up on something,” Joshua shrugs.
“We’re really just friends,” you assure him.
“Sometimes those are the best…” Joshua starts.
“Don’t,” you cut off. He worries for a second before he realizes you’re smiling. “We did try. Not so much a try, I guess, but we slept together maybe 6 months after Johnny and I broke it off and it just wasn’t it.” 
“You and him slept together?” Joshua questions.
“Is that weird for you?” you ask.
“No, it’s just interesting that you’re still so close,” Joshua observes.
“I guess,” you say with a shrug. “He’s great, obviously attractive, but we just, I don’t know. I didn’t feel anything. Neither did he. So, staying friends seemed like the right choice.”
“Interesting,” is all Joshua says. “Have you dated anyone seriously since Johnny?” 
“Not that seriously, no,” you admit. “I’ve gone on dates with different people and some of them stuck around for a bit, but nothing serious.” 
“Not finding the right people?” Joshua presses.
“I just haven’t found anyone that made me feel like Johnny did at the beginning or even like I did when he proposed,” you say. 
“I can understand that, even if I don’t really get it. You’re gorgeous, anyone would be lucky,” he says smoothly. You cover a blush with a slight eye roll. 
“I guess that’s why most of my close friends will also believe that I kept a new relationship on the low. They saw me post-Johnny and have seen me try to date,” you share.
“Yeah that’s good for us, at least,” Joshua agrees.
“What about you, though? When was your last relationship?” you ask.
“Ah, well it’s been a little over a year,” Joshua says. 
“Bad ending?” you wonder. You’re not sure why you press him on it.
“It wasn’t great,” Joshua says with a chuckle. “She, uh, well she decided that she just really would rather be with one of my friends than with me.”
“I’m so sorry you went through that,” you say, suddenly sorry.
“No, no, it’s fine,” he says. “She didn’t actually cheat on me, but she had started getting close to him and sharing everything with him.”
“Arguably worse, in my opinion. Emotional cheating is still a thing,” you say, trying to offer comfort. 
“Thank you,” Joshua says. His eyes are soft and full of care. “And, like you, I have dated since then, just nothing worth talking about.” 
It’s an easy transition from that into talking about your backgrounds. Like speed dating, except somehow more intense. You learn Joshua’s birthday, his parents names, that he’s an only child, and where he grew up. Nothing is too small and you joke about taking notes before you actually go to get a notebook. Joshua tells you his favorite color and his favorite food, tells you about his favorite memories, favorite places where he grew up, and favorite places he’s found since moving here. There’s a way that his face lights up when he talks about his friends that’s drawing you in. You tell him the same. That all feels a little surface level, which you point out. If this is going to work, it has to be deeper, more serious. 
That’s when something seems to almost break down. Joshua suggests that you tell each other the deep stuff, the things that you don’t always admit to someone you’re dating. Or, maybe you admit it and don’t get into the reasons why. When Joshua goes first and admits that he’s happiest when he’s playing his guitar, even if nobody else is listening, his whole face changes. It’s like a completely different version of him. He’s got an open face as it is, that hasn’t changed, but you realize maybe he’s a little guarded behind the smile as well. Maybe there really is more depth than he wants anyone to realize. Maybe this is going to be more interesting than you thought.
“Can I hear you play?” you ask. His face is adorable with his eyes full of surprise.
“You want to hear me play?” There’s an emotion you can’t place when he looks at you.
“I love music, too, Joshua,” you say softly. “I’d love to see what you’re passionate about.”
“Oh, well, I usually play at this acoustic night on Thursdays at a coffee shop downtown,” Joshua tells you.
“You do? That’s so cute!” you say before second guessing it. He looks away like he’s a little embarrassed and you worry for a split second.
“I’d love it if you came by,” he says.
“It’s a shame that we can’t say that’s where we met,” you admit.
“Wait, that would be a good idea, actually,” Joshua says and you smile. 
“It would be, but I also know events like that. It’s always a similar crowd so I’m sure someone will know that I’ve never been,” you reason. 
“Fair point,” Joshua concedes. 
“Why don’t we just say we met on a dating app?” you suggest and Joshua pulls up his face. “Okay, I know apps are lame and honestly, I don’t use them much. But, think about it. That’s the perfect reason why we didn’t bring it up until now, we didn’t want to answer the ‘where did you meet’ question by saying an app.” 
“Okay, yeah, I do actually like that because it’s easy and it doesn’t feel like a wild story,” Joshua says. 
“What about your parents?” you ask. “Do we need to make plans to meet them if you’re also posting about me?” 
“We can figure that out, but they live pretty far away so it would probably just be over FaceTime or something,” he says.
“I also understand if you don’t want to do that because we’re just pretending,” you suggest. 
“No, it’d be cool to have you meet them. Even if the relationship isn’t real, I’d like to be friends for real, so that’s not a total lie,” Joshua reasons. 
“I’d like to be friends too,” you agree. “How long have you been living here, now?” 
“Oh, um, like 8 months?” Joshua says like a question.
“I was figuring like a month or two with the way Jeonghan talks about you,” you laugh. 
“You’ve been friends with him for years, you’re not actually surprised,” Joshua points out. 
“Okay so now I guess we have to figure out when we started dating,” you comment.
“And everything else, but we can do it,” Joshua says. 
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You’re a little nervous sitting on your couch waiting for Joshua to show up. Even though you offered to pick him up for dinner with your family tonight, he insisted on being the one to drive. Of course he’s right on time, which you’re already realizing is a trait of his. He’s even a gentleman when he opens the door for you, just like he pulled the chair out the first time you met for the date-not-date. As you put your seatbelt on, you notice that there are a few things in the backseat. 
“What’s all that?” you ask as he slides into the driver’s seat. 
“Flowers for your mom, a bottle of scotch for your dad, and a cheese board for your sister because you said they just moved and she likes to host,” Joshua lists off as if it’s nothing.
“You did not have to get things for all of them,” you point out. 
“Of course I did, but I also wanted to. I’m trying to make a good impression,” he says, making your heart a little light.
“That’s so kind,” you whisper out.
“Oh, I thought of something else,” Joshua shifts. You’re worried you made him uncomfortable until he speaks again. “Are you a pet name person in relationships?”
That makes you snort, something that would embarrass you in any other situation. It’s not the first time he’s heard it, though. “That depends on what you want to call me.”
“That’s a dangerous way to say that,” Joshua answers. His eyes are still on the road, yet you don’t miss the way he reacts.
“I don’t like overly cutesy names,” you say to diffuse a little bit of the moment. “Like, I don’t know, if you want to call me sugarplum or honeybunch or something like that, please don’t.”
“You’re just giving me ideas to take away my fun,” he pouts.
“Well, what were you thinking of calling me? Or are you even a pet name person?” you ask.
“I do like them,” Joshua says. “I’m not sure that I have a go-to or anything. For you, I might say angel or possibly darling.”
“I think I prefer angel, if I’m allowed to pick,” you say after a moment.
“Of course,” Joshua replies. Studying his face, you’re looking for a hint of mocking or insincerity, but there’s nothing to find. This is just him.
“Do you want me to use a pet name for you?” you wonder.
“I’d happily take one, no pressure, though,” he says. 
“I’ll have to think about it,” you tell him. “Something generic like babe doesn’t feel right.”
“Are you saying I’m special?” Now you can hear the light teasing in his voice. 
“I take it back, any more compliments are going to go to your head,” you huff out. 
As you get closer to your parents’ house, you start to bounce your knee with an excess of nervous energy. It’s not until Joshua reaches a hand out to take one of yours that you’re even sure you’re doing it. There’s something calming about it, though. Nothing about him reaching out feels like he’s trying to stop you, just show that you’re not alone in this. Which is more than welcome. The last person you brought to meet your parents was Johnny. Given how that ended and why Joshua is around in the first place, it’s not exactly the most comforting thought.
Once you pull up to their house, you take a deep breath. It’s only to settle your rising nerves, but it also serves to give Joshua enough time to come and open your door. Even though you’ve told him that he doesn’t need to be this sweet, he insists. Without saying a word, he holds out a hand to help you out of the car. Instead of dropping your hand once you’re out, he uses it to pull you into him and wraps his arms around you. There’s this immediate sense of comfort, like you have actually been dating for months. You inhale his cologne without meaning to, something warm and woodsy. 
“It’s going to be fine, parents love me,” he assures you when you pull away.
“I don’t doubt that,” you say, releasing the breath you were holding and your tension with it. 
“So come on, my little granola wrapper, let’s go,” Joshua says as he lets you go to get the gifts out of his backseat. 
It takes you a full few seconds to register what came out of his mouth. “I’m sorry, what did you just call me?” 
“Is that not the one?” he asks, eyes alight with some kind of mischief. 
“I’m not going to encourage this,” you huff.
“Whatever you say, jellybean,” he throws out casually. 
The second you step into the house, you see exactly what Joshua means. Your mother is fawning over him in a matter of seconds, your father is making plans to show him his records, your sister’s husband is asking when they can go out for drinks, and your sister even holds back the snark. All during the course of the pre-dinner drinks and largely, you think, due to the gifts that Joshua brought. He had a reason for the meaning behind the type of flowers for your mother, a favorite musician who swore by the scotch for your dad, and even bought the cheese board from a small business that customized things. 
Dinner comes along and you still feel like you’ve barely said anything with Joshua masterfully steering the conversation. He even makes it sound good that you met on an app, with his improvised story of wanting to meet people in a new city. According to him, he wasn’t expecting to meet someone like you and was done for the second he saw you sitting at dinner. It’s something real, that you met him for dinner the first time at a fancy downtown restaurant. And you realize you never actually asked what his impression was that first night. More than once, you catch yourself watching his profile as he talks to one of your family members. Everything about him is at ease and you wonder if it really is all fake. Not that you think anything about him is disingenuous, he’s just really good at making people like him. 
The only hiccup doesn’t come until your mother is pulling out dessert. According to your sister, she’s got an excellent pie in the refrigerator that you simply have to try. You’re about to say something when Joshua beats you to it. 
“I don’t think my little sugarplum likes fruit pies, but it sounds amazing and I’d love a piece,” Joshua interjects smoothly. 
Your sister nearly spits out her drink, whether it’s at the nickname or him speaking up for you, you’re not sure. In any other situation, you would scold him for the name, but you’re a little stunned he remembers you don’t like pie. It came up once in a rapid fire of likes and dislikes. 
“You’re right, she doesn’t,” your sister agrees. “I’d almost forgotten.” 
(That’s when you’re sure it was another of your sister’s tests. Trying to catch you in some kind of lie about your relationship. But, it doesn’t work and you feel a little victorious for that.)
The doorbell rings through the house and you look to your mother, silently asking if she’s expecting someone. It’s unusual for them to have company calling this late on a Friday night. It’s usually reserved for dinners with friends or family or galas. Unsurprisingly, your mother doesn’t seem to know who it could be, but disappears to answer the door all the same. When a voice drifts through from the hallway, you freeze on the spot.
“I really just came by to drop that off for my mom, I didn’t realize it was so late. I’d hate to intrude on dessert,” the guest says. 
“Nonsense, you’re not interrupting,” your mother insists. 
“I saw an unfamiliar car, so I figured you might have guests,” he says as they come through the doorway into the living area. 
Your heart stutters a little in your chest, feels heavier for seeing him. Somehow he looks taller and broader than the last time you saw him. He’s wearing his hair shorter and he looks more mature, somehow, like he’s seen so much more of the world than when you were together. Which is probably true, if you think about it. It’s been a couple years and that means he’s had more time working with his father. 
“That would be my car,” Joshua says, getting to his feet immediately and extending his hand. “I’m Joshua.” 
“Johnny,” he answers and shakes Joshua’s hand. Yet, his face looks a little tense and his eyes mostly stay on you. 
“It’s just family,” your mother shares, though Johnny can obviously see that himself, “since our darling daughter finally brought Joshua around to meet us.” 
“I’m glad she did, dinner was wonderful and the company was even better,” Joshua says with a smile at your mother. She nearly blushes at his compliment. 
“Oh, hush,” your mother says with a wave of her hand. “I was just getting some pie if you’d like to stay for a piece, Johnny. Although, I’d hate to keep you from home.”
Joshua sits back down next to you, a little closer than is strictly necessary, and puts his arm along the back of the couch behind you. You feel safe pressed up against his side like that. Johnny clears his throat when he looks away from the pair of you. “Gabby has been out of town all week, actually, so I’m going back to an empty home anyway. I’d love to stay for a piece of your famous cherry pie.” 
“Great!” your mother says and disappears off into the kitchen. 
“What’s got Gabby away?” your sister asks. 
“Just a conference,” Johnny answers. “There was a final banquet tonight and she’ll be home tomorrow.” 
“She’s busy, away this week, bachelorette next weekend,” she says offhand. 
“Keeping tabs on when everything is?” you ask of your sister. She looks at you like you’re crazy and Johnny looks awkward.
“No, I was invited to it,” your sister answers evenly. 
Before you can even answer, Joshua is speaking up. Probably sensing your discomfort. After all, you hadn’t gotten to tell him that Johnny’s fiance is friends with your younger sister. They had gone to school together and been close. Stealing her sister’s fiancée doesn’t seem to have impacted the friendship. 
“You must be excited with the big day getting so close,” Joshua says. He moves his arm from behind you so that he can take your hand on your thigh. It makes you look down at your hands before glancing at him, only to find his gaze on you already. It also means you miss the way Johnny follows the movement. 
“Uh, yeah, I mean, I’m definitely excited. It’s just been a lot of planning,” Johnny says. 
“I bet,” Joshua says. “Thank you so much for inviting me, I know how stressful changes can be.” 
“It’s no problem, I’m happy you’ll both be there,” Johnny says. 
With almost a practiced subtlety, Joshua squeezes your hand. There’s so much in that one movement. A reassurance, a reminder to breathe, a reminder that he’s there, a promise that everything is going to be okay. Your heart hurts seeing Johnny sitting in the living room so casually as if nothing happened, but it doesn’t hurt as much as you expected. Maybe that has something to do with this impossibly kind, completely idiotic person next to you. You also can’t help the way your gaze lands on him. Just in profile, at first, before he senses your look and turns to you with a dazzling smile. It’s like there’s nobody else in the world but the two of you.
The conversation shifts slightly when your mother comes back in with a tray full of pie slices and your father comes back with whatever record he was looking for to show Joshua. Just like that, you survive your first in-person interaction with Johnny. Actually come out of it feeling like you might be able to handle this. The smile you send Joshua while he’s eating his pie is so fond that you’re not even sure who you are. 
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“I can’t believe you didn’t call me last night,” Jeonghan says in lieu of a hello.
“Hello to you too, I’m good, thanks for asking,” you retort.
“Greetings are for people who remember their best friends, not for people who send a single sentence recap after bringing their fake boyfriend home to meet the family,” Jeonghan states immediately.
“That’s a very long rule,” you note.
“Deserved, though,” Jeonghan says.
“I was tired, Han, it was a long night,” you explain.
“A long night where your ex showed up,” he reminds you.
“That actually wasn’t so bad,” you admit. “Joshua made it feel pretty easy.”
“Oh did he now?” 
You don’t have to be in the same room as Jeonghan to hear the expression on his face when he says that. “It was just easy, Jeonghan, nothing more than that.”
“What did your parents think?” he asks, switching gears.
“They loved him, like actually loved him. My mom was enamored and kept calling him handsome. My dad was talking about music with him and making plans to go check out some acoustic music venue. Even the ice queen couldn’t find anything to fault him for,” you share.
“She’s less of an ice queen and more of a mean girl and a bitch,” Jeonghan adds.
“You said it,” you mumble.
“I mean, come on, who thinks it’s okay for their friend to sleep with their sister’s fiancé? And then stays friends with the girl?” Jeonghan gets really defensive with this. He would ride for you to the ends of the world, which you do love. Just not today. 
“I don’t wanna relive that whole thing, it’s done and over. Nothing to do now,” you say, weariness seeping into your voice.
“Would you want to do anything about it?” Jeonghan asks.
“What do you mean?” You answer the question with a question.
“Like would you want to go back to when you were with Johnny?” Jeonghan asks.
You think about it for half a second. “No.” 
“That was fast,” Jeonghan comments.
“What’s there to go back to? He made his choice and I’m fine, honestly. It was weird seeing him and hearing him talk about his wedding, but it wasn’t as bad as I thought,” you say.
“Is that because of your Prince Charming?” Your best friend, always doing the most, puts this question into a sing-song voice. 
“He’s not a Prince Charming. You’re so annoying,” you scoff. 
“I don’t know, he sure seems to be saving you,” Jeonghan presses. 
“I can’t with…” you start, trailing off at the knock on your door.
“Who’s there?” Jeonghan asks. 
“No clue,” you answer, getting off your couch to go see. 
“I bet it’s Prince Charming,” Jeonghan laughs out.
“Would you fuck…” you begin as you open the door to find the very subject of your conversation on the other side, “off.”
“I’m right aren’t I?” Jeonghan is nearly shrieking with glee.
“Sorry, gotta go,” you say.
“Oh no, no, no,” Jeonghan tries.
You’re stepping aside to let Joshua into your apartment. “I’ll see you tomorrow for brunch.”
“Let me know if I need to add one more to the reservation,” Jeonghan says. 
“Goodbye,” you say with an eye roll Jeonghan can’t see, but will surely hear. You hang up as soon as he also says goodbye.
“Jeonghan?” Joshua guesses.
“Unfortunately,” you confirm. 
“I hope I wasn’t interrupting,” Joshua says. It’s nothing like when someone says it out of forced courtesy. He actually seems like he’s making sure he’s not intruding. 
“No, not at all, I just wasn’t expecting you,” you admit. 
“Sometimes that’s the best time to come over,” Joshua says with a shrug.
“Does that mean you have a plan?” you wonder.
“Yup,” Joshua says.
“Gonna tell me what it is?” you ask.
“Nope,” he says with a concerning smile, popping the end of nope. “Go put on something comfortable but with layers. And we’re not going hiking or anything like that.” 
An hour later, you’re pulling off the road in an area you’ve never been to, even with as long as you’ve lived here. The views are instantly enough to take your breath away. You can see the whole city below you, all the bustle of traffic and skyscrapers. Somewhere, you know there are people rushing to and fro, too busy to stop and appreciate what’s around them. Straight ahead, you can see the way the low clouds glide around, splitting around the very tops of the buildings. It’s beautiful and it also makes you realize just how small you are. 
While you’ve been appreciating the views in front of you, Joshua has been gathering his supplies from the trunk. By the time you turn around, he’s laying a blanket and basket down on the ground in front of the car. 
“Is this…did you set up a picnic?” you ask.
“I wanted to show you this place and figured some food might be nice,” he says with an easy smile. 
“That’s so sweet,” you say earnestly.
You settle on the blanket next to him and look through the food he’s pulling out. There are some of your favorite things and some things you’re not even sure you’ve seen before. Somehow, though, you feel like they might become some of your new favorites. He even brought plates and he sets about putting one together for you to pick at.
Joshua tells you about how this is his favorite place and he found it completely by accident. He loves being down in the city and around all the people, but there’s something nice about seeing things from this perspective too. It’s like he can just disconnect for a while. Turn off his phone. Read or listen to music. Just be totally alone. It’s how he works through a problem or gets the perspective he needs.
“I can’t believe you’re sharing it with me,” you admit and his eyes light up with his smile.
“I just thought, after last night, you might appreciate having a place to get away from it all,” Joshua says.
You want to say something, anything, really, to acknowledge what Joshua just said. Try to say something. Your throat doesn’t want to cooperate, it seems. Your brain, either. In fact, all you can manage to do is turn away to hide the tears. Joshua is observant, though. He doesn’t say anything, just pulls you into his chest and runs his hand along your back. He quietly soothes you as you cry out a lot of emotions you didn’t even realize you were experiencing. 
And something about him comforting you, this near stranger who doesn’t actually owe you anything, sets you off more. In the early days of your relationship with Johnny, you know it was good. It must have been. Surely, it was more than a relationship between two people who had known each other for years with families that were intertwined. You don’t remember it anymore. Don’t remember him ever holding you like this without even knowing what was wrong. Don’t remember him taking you on a date like this just because he thought you would enjoy it. Since you haven’t seriously dated anyone since the break-up, he also feels like your only frame of reference. That makes you sad for an entirely different reason. Who loses it over someone just being a little kind?
“I’m so sorry,” you finally say when you manage to pull yourself together. 
“For what?” he asks. 
“For just crying like that and being such a mess,” you say. 
Joshua shakes his head. Moves his hand up to your face and waits for confirmation that it’s okay. When you nod, he gently wipes the tears from under your eyes. “You have nothing to apologize for. What you’re going through with your ex, most of us could never even imagine that kind of pain.”
“But still, you barely know me and here you are trying to be kind and all I can do is cry,” you say. 
“First of all, I think last night and the food I put together show I’ve actually learned a lot about you in a short time,” he says and you have to laugh at that. He’s right. “Second, I’m just happy you feel safe enough with me to cry. It’s not healthy to hold all that in. You’re not in this alone.”
That brings you up short more than anything. He’s right, again (an annoying habit, if you’re being honest). You don’t feel any hesitation around him. Nothing to stop you from crying if you feel like crying. That’s unusual, to say the least. Normally, you’ll do anything to avoid anyone seeing you emotional. But, this man you just met is different. He’s safe. You’re not sure how or why, but you know you can trust him. 
“Are you free tomorrow for brunch?” you ask. Joshua gives you a quizzical look for a moment at the sudden topic change. 
“Yeah, why?” he asks. 
“I just need to send one quick text and then I want to do what you said you normally do here. Disconnect from the world and just appreciate the afternoon,” you say and find yourself smiling along with his smile. He really is so beautiful. 
You: add one to the reservation for brunch tomorrow and i’ll call you tonight when i’m home
You switch your phone into Do Not Disturb before the response comes and turn all your attention back to Joshua. 
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Over the next couple weeks, Joshua slips seamlessly into your life and your existing friendships. Some of them, like those closest to you that come along to the Sunday brunches, know the whole story. It’s not like they would believe you had kept a relationship secret for that long, anyway. And it’s good to have a few extra sets of eyes and ears helping to sell the story. Other friends get the same story that your family and Johnny got. It’s not that you don’t trust them, you do. It’s more important to keep the circle of people who know the real story as small as possible, though, so that it actually succeeds. All your friends adore him from the second they meet him. The only surprise is how well Jeonghan seems to be adjusting to sharing your time. He wants to give you a hard time, yet he doesn’t. 
You meet all Joshua’s friends and coworkers, too. It feels way easier than it should the first time you join him and his coworkers after work for drinks. They spend most of the time giving Joshua a hard time that he’s kept you to himself for so long. It’s easy to fall into step and you find that you do know him a lot better than you think. So, it’s just as easy for you to jump in when they’re giving him a hard time. He pretends to be annoyed, but you can tell by the way he smiles that he likes it. It’s one of those genuine smiles that makes his eyes bigger and brighter. Everything just feels…easy. Like this whole thing wasn’t actually a bad idea after all. 
Your favorite part might be the first time you got with him to an Open Mic Night and get to see him play. He’s got that easy kind of confidence on the guitar. Like he knows he’s talented, but not in a cocky way. It’s his singing that catches you off guard. His voice moves over the notes with an ease that makes you wonder why this isn’t something he’s doing for a living. He’s got this way of pulling you into songs that you don’t even know. And he’s so kind with the people that show up just to see him play. They all seem just as happy to meet you and know that he’s happy. 
There’s only been one part that’s been difficult. Not difficult, exactly, but not as comfortable as some of the other things. While you and Joshua talked through anything and everything to prepare to start a fake relationship, you covered comfort levels with physical affection. You both say you’re comfortable with physical touch, though he seems to seek it out more than you do. That includes at least some level of PDA as a couple. You’ve never really been one to just randomly make out with a partner in public, but you’ve never been shy about expressing affection either. It was fine, when it was all theoretical. 
In actual practice, it’s been a little more difficult. The first time Joshua had pressed a kiss to the side of your head while you were out with people that didn’t know it was fake caught you off guard. It shouldn’t have, he asked before doing it and you confirmed it was fine. What you hadn’t been entirely prepared for was how it would feel when he did it. Or how it would feel that he was so casual about it, like it was the most normal thing in the world. Like it wasn’t making you rethink everything in your life. 
Tonight, you’re hanging out with friends at Hyejin’s house. You and her have been friends since before you even started school. So, she knows what’s really going on with Joshua. Your other friends there, though, are mostly not in on it. Which is fine. You’re shockingly comfortable with the song and dance. 
It’s not actually fine. 
It starts the same as any other time you’ve been out somewhere with him. You’re sitting close together on the couch, thighs pressed together, with his arm behind you along the back of the couch. Periodically, his fingers play with the sleeve of your shirt. It’s an absentminded habit and you’re used to it. He’s usually keeping some sort of contact with you in a very subtle way. You learned right away that he did like physical touch, but it was rarely something obvious. One drink in and his affection got a little more obvious. Arm wrapped firmly around you. More kisses pressed to the side of your head. 
Two drinks in and it changes again. He removes his arm from around you in favor of holding your hand. Playing with your fingers while he’s having other conversations, like he doesn’t even realize. Hand squeezing your thigh. Or tracing patterns into the material of your pants. Head dropping down on your shoulder when he’s not talking to someone else. And it’s definitely not fine. You’re nursing your drink, but even if you weren’t, his constant presence would sober you. Since you’ve just finally finished your first, you think maybe a second is a good idea.
It’s not. Joshua gets another drink, his third, and you decline. Instead, you stick with the water you’ve been drinking since you couldn’t even finish your second. You want to be able to respond, whatever happens. Respond to whatever new form of affection unlocks with this next drink. 
“I hope you stick around, you’re my favorite of the partners that we’ve met,” Mimi announces to Joshua when he plops back down next to you. 
You’re glad that you hadn’t taken a sip because it would’ve come out immediately. Mimi has been a friend for a long time as well, and you love her, but she doesn’t know the truth. 
“Don’t I know it,” Joshua agrees, earning a lot of laughter. 
“Have you met Johnny yet? I know you’re going to the wedding,” Taehyung wonders. 
“Yeah Johnny showed up magically the night I brought him by to meet my parents, sister, and brother-in-law,” you say, regaining some composure. 
“I think you traded up,” Joshua says, eyes laser focused on you. 
You’re not so lucky this time and you just took a sip. You nearly choke. “Do you?”
“Definitely,” Joshua insists. 
“I agree,” Jimin says and Mimi elbows him in the side. “What?”
“You’re going to the wedding,” she says. 
“So? He’s a fucking tool,” Jimin shrugs off. 
“Are you all going, then?” Joshua asks. 
“A good portion of us, yeah,” Hyejin says. “Family connections, you know?” 
“I wasn’t invited,” Mimi pouts. 
“Want to come?” Taehyung asks and Mimi laughs. 
“Tae, my love, you can’t just invite people,” Mimi says and shakes her head. 
“I have a plus-one,” Taehyung says with a shrug. “I think we all knew I wouldn’t make it to the wedding in my relationship. But, Johnny still thinks I’m bringing someone.”
“Damn, okay. I’m in,” Mimi says. 
“I’m not going either, my family ties weren’t enough to get an invite,” Jeonghan says without any sorrow in his eyes. 
“That’s because of what you said to him after the break up,” Hyejin interrupts with a laugh. 
“I don’t remember saying anything that bad,” Jeonghan shrugs, and examines his finger nails to show how little he cares. 
“Remind me to show you what he said some time, it was fucking gold,” Hyejin says to Joshua.
“Do you have it saved?” you ask.
“I should have it framed, honestly,” Hyejin says. “Get you a best friend like Jeonghan, for real, for real.” 
“Hey, that’s my best friend, get your own,” you joke. 
“That’s a shame you won’t be there though, Han, I could’ve used the familiar face,” Joshua says.
“Like you’re going to be paying attention to anyone but your date,” Hyejin teases. 
“Can you blame me? I still can’t believe how lucky I got,” Joshua says without any hint that he’s pretending. It makes your heart skip a couple beats as you try to catch your breath. 
“Ugh, I’m so single,” Mimi whines. 
“Maybe not after the wedding,” Hyejin teases. 
The conversations devolve from there into separate, smaller chats. Joshua is back to tracing patterns into your leg. Without warning, he pops his head up and places a quick peck on your lips before dropping his head onto your shoulder again. He’s so nonchalant about it that you’re not really sure it even happened. You’ve kissed a couple times like that, quick pecks in public. But, it’s always been when you’ve talked about it. It isn’t until you look up to meet Jeonghan’s eyes that you know it all really happened. 
Joshua, unaware that he’s just turned your world a little upside down, moves his head to look at you again. “You’re beautiful, you know.”
It’s barely a whisper and you know he’s not drunk. He’s not sober either, though. And you’ve had drinks around each other before. He’s just never been quite so glued to your side or free with the compliments. You’re also not usually so singularly focused on him. A fact that doesn’t go entirely unnoticed. 
“Thank you,” you whisper back. 
“I’m kinda hungry,” he continues in a bit of a whine. 
“Well you were the one who thought skipping dinner was smart,” you tease him. 
“But my little honeybunch,” he teases back. You snort and miss the way several of your friends watch the interaction because they know how you are about weird pet names. 
“Try again, sweetheart,” you answer. 
“Sweetheart, I like the way that sounds,” he says, distracted. 
“Just a little longer and we can leave and get something to eat,” you say and he sighs. 
“Fine,” he concedes and kisses your cheek, just barely a whisper away from the corner of your mouth. 
About half an hour later, you say your goodbyes. Despite your suggestions, Joshua continued drinking instead of switching to water. It’s as fine as it can be, though. He’s just an affectionate drinker. He wraps an arm around you, slipping a hand into your back pocket so that he can whisper thanks again. You do your best to shrug it off and let him drape his arms around your shoulder instead. 
The car ride is quiet, initially. You pick a playlist that he made for you after you first met. Something he seems to enjoy. You’re nearly back at his place when he says that he doesn’t have anything to eat. But, luckily, there’s a place around the corner that he loves that’s still open. He manages to place an order on the app, gets something for you as well, and pays before getting there. All you have to do is walk in. 
“I hope you’ll come in and eat with me,” he says when you get back into the car. 
You’re not really sure how to tell him that you don’t want to. Not because you don’t want to spend time with him. Or that you don’t appreciate him ordering something he knows you’ll like. No, it’s so much deeper than that. It’s that you don’t know if your heart can handle it. You’ve got a couple more weeks of this and your heart is taking a beating. All of this is fake. It’ll be over after the wedding. But, the compliments don’t feel fake. The kisses don’t feel fake. The affection doesn’t feel fake. Your heart racing is real, oh so real. You don’t need anyone to tell you that you’re in way too deep. 
None of that comes out, though. 
“Sure, sweetheart,” you say and hold your breath for a second. You hadn’t meant to say that when it was just you. 
Joshua smiles over at you. “Really do like that.” 
Does he know what he’s doing to you? Can he hear your heart hammering in your chest? Can he hear your breath catch? Does he know how insanely beautiful he is? Or that he’s all the more beautiful because he’s so unfailingly kind? 
Probably not, because he gets distracted and starts singing along as the song changes. It’s welcome, but also a little devastating. His voice cuts through you in a way you’re still very unprepared to handle.
After another few minutes, you’re at Joshua’s place. He springs back into action and tries to open your door for you, even though you’re the driver. He settles for taking hold of your hand as he walks to his door, only reluctantly dropping it when he gets to the door. 
His apartment is familiar to you, it has to be for this to be believable. So, he sets the food out and you grab plates. You grab a couple waters from the fridge while he takes the food over to the couch, bypassing the table. You sit next to him, leaving enough space between you that you’re not touching. Hoping he doesn’t think anything of it. 
It’s useless, apparently, because he slides over to press into your side.
What’s worse (not that you thought that was possible) is that he picks things off of your plate and gives you food off his plate. Tries to feed it to you, actually, and pouts when you don’t let him. It takes everything in you not to beg him to be gentle on your heart. He doesn’t even seem to realize what he’s doing to you as he smiles and jokes. Doesn’t seem to think twice about playing with your hands or his hand on your leg or any of the things he usually does when you have an audience. There’s nobody here to see and he’s not usually this touchy when you’re alone. Maybe it’s the drinks.
“I like your friends a lot, you know,” he says out of nowhere.
“They like you, too,” you assure him.
“What about you?” he asks.
“I’d assume they like me as well,” you laugh out.
“No, I meant me. Do you like me?” he asks, eyes big and vulnerable.
Please, Joshua, I’m begging you. Be gentle with me, you think so loud you’re worried he might hear.
“I’m actually a little sick of you,” you joke. 
“But, but,” he begins and dramatically throws himself in your lap. 
“You’re the worst,” you say without any bite. Your hands find their way into his hair, softly running through the strands.
“That feels nice,” he says softly. “Can I just stay like this? I’m tired.” 
“Of course,” you whisper.
“You’ll stay with me?” he asks, sounding like he’s about to drift off.
You’re sure he won’t remember any of this. Not because he’s drunk, but he’s on the edges of sleep. So, you answer in a whisper. “Always.” 
Maybe he’s not the one that needs to be careful with your heart. Maybe it’s you that needs to be careful. You know that you could walk away. That you could just remind him that this is all fake and there’s nobody around to see now. That’s not what you do. So, maybe you’re just as much to blame. 
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Sunday Joshua: thanks for taking care of me last night Joshua: idk why the drinks hit me so hard Joshua: when did you leave?  Monday Joshua: is everything okay? Did i say something stupid? Tuesday Joshua: i don’t wanna sound clingy but are we still getting together at your place after work?
Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you know that you need to respond. You know that what you’re doing isn’t fair to anyone. It’s not like Joshua can somehow read your mind to realize you’re spiraling. It just feels a little paralyzing. This is a weird limbo of knowing you might be in over your head, but still believing this is all fake. 
Jeonghan: hey dummy i know you’re ignoring joshua so i’m coming over tonight  Jeonghan: i told him you’ve been busy at work and i haven’t heard from you either but we have some talking to do
Leave it to Jeonghan. You had almost forgotten, with how well you’ve gotten to know Joshua, that it was Jeonghan who introduced you in the first place. Of course he would text your best friend when he couldn’t get a hold of you. Does that make you feel better? Not really, you think, because it feels like a real relationship in a way. Oh well, you can talk about it with Jeonghan. If he shows up, that is.
And he does, less than an hour later.
“I’m here,” he announces when he comes in the door.
“Thanks for knocking and giving me the chance to pretend I’m not here,” you call back.
“Your car is outside and you have your location turned on,” Jeonghan says. 
“Right,” you answer as he comes through the hall holding a bag from your favorite take out place.
“At least I come bearing gifts,” he says.
“You’re an angel, do you know that?” you ask and reach for the bag.
Jeonghan snorts. “I’m gonna remind you of that the next time you call me a demon.” 
“Well, Lucifer was a fallen angel,” you reason with a shrug. 
“I hate you,” he says.
“I know,” you answer. 
Jeonghan busies himself with taking out the food and making sure you have napkins. Tells you what he wants to drink when you get up to go into the kitchen. Calls for you to grab some utensils as well. By the time you sit back down with him, he’s flipping through a streaming service trying to find something to watch. It’s not at all what you’re expecting and you just let it happen. The two of you have been friends long enough to know you should just let things play out.
With some mindless show on in the background, Jeonghan talks about work and your friends and everything else that’s been going on the past few days. Like it’s been weeks since you last saw him. Mostly, he talks about how Taehyung has been blowing up his phone asking for advice about Mimi, which is actually news to you. Sure, you saw him ask her if she wanted to go with him to the wedding. What you had not expected was for him to actually be interested. Which he is, if his messages to Jeonghan are anything to go by. It’s been everything from advice about talking to her to what kinds of things she might like as a surprise. They would probably be cute, you think. 
“Yeah, well, sometimes feelings catch us off guard,” Jeonghan says when you admit your surprise.
Damn. Did you really walk right into that?
“True,” you admit, knowing that’s the best answer you can give.
“Talk to me,” Jeonghan urges. 
“About what?” you ask to buy more time.
“Joshua,” he says.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” you state. That makes him fix you with a look.
“Clearly there is or you wouldn’t be ignoring him,” he says. 
“We’re not really dating so I don’t owe him constant updates. I’m not ignoring him. I just have other shit to do,” you say without looking at him.
“Would you like to be?” he asks. That does make you turn to him.
“Like to be what?” you ask, though you think you know.
“Really dating him,” Jeonghan says.
It’s a crossroads kind of moment. You could say that you don’t want that. That would be a lie, though, and Jeonghan doesn’t like it when you lie. Can always tell the second you say something that’s not true. The truth is that you’ve spent nearly every moment since that stupid night at Hyejin’s place thinking about what you actually feel for your fake boyfriend. 
“I don’t…know,” you say slowly and earn a smile because it’s not a lie.
“I was there the other night too, I saw the way it all played out,” he says.
“I mean, does it matter? This is all fake and soon, it’ll be over,” you say.
“Of course it matters and it’ll be over soon? Please,” Jeonghan scoffs. “I know he’s told you that he wants to keep you in his life after Johnny’s wedding. So, what? You’re just gonna be like okay, that was fun, let’s never talk again?”
“I don’t know, maybe,” you say quietly.
He rolls his eyes. “Try again, buttercup.” 
“It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t like me like that, he’s just nice,” you say, avoidant as ever. 
“He looks at you like he’d give you the moon if you asked for it,” Jeonghan snorts out.
“He’s just nice, Han,” you disagree.
“Maybe,” your closest friend concedes, a rare move for him. It feels weird all the same. “Whatever it is, text him back. He misses you and I don’t want to hear anymore about how he’s worrying he upset you.”
“He’s been worrying that he upset me?” you ask. Your heart constricts at that.
“Yeah, for some reason he actually likes your company,” he says. “Can’t relate.”
You smack Jeonghan on the arm. “Says the man who shows up at my place unannounced when I ignore him for a day.”
“No, I was just bored,” he argued. “And you’re way too stubborn to sort out your shit on your own.”
 “I’m not stubborn, but fine, I’ll text him,” you relent.
“Now,” he says.
“What?”
“Text him now so that I know you actually did it.”
You roll your eyes at him, but pull your phone out anyway. Angling it away from Jeonghan so that he can’t see your screen. He’s such a nosy brat sometimes.
You: hey, i’m sorry. It’s been really busy and i had a lot on my mind You: wanna do something tomorrow?
The response comes right away and you ignore the smug look on Jeonghan’s face as you quickly make plans. If Jeonghan was anyone else, he would probably just let you be since he ultimately got what he wanted. But, he’s not anyone else. And he’s as caring to his friends as he is calculating when he wants something. So, he’s not doing it to be cruel, not at all. He just wants you to consider what you’re actually feeling. 
You’ll never tell Jeonghan how much you appreciate him talking everything through with you. Never tell him how good it feels to get all the thoughts out of your head. To his credit, he’s not smug and he doesn’t tell you that he’s been right about your feelings all along. He just listens, supports you when you need it, and encourages you to keep thinking through everything that’s going on.
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As a make-up for slightly ignoring Joshua (over your own internal freak out), you take him to dinner at your favorite restaurant. It’s this tiny little hole-in-the-wall that people seem to walk past. The kind of place where you couldn’t overspend even if you tried because the couple that owned it just wanted to share good food. The kind of place where they know everyone by name. It makes you feel instantly at ease. 
Joshua doesn’t say it, but he also kind of can’t believe you wanted to show him some place that meant so much to you. All he could do was watch, with so much fondness, as you spoke to the couple about everything under the sun. Watch as you turned slightly red when they scolded you for taking so long to bring Joshua by. Smile as you promised the both of you would be back. Despite trying to pay, you beat him to it. Even leaving a massive tip because you insisted the couple had undercharged you. They made a big show of not wanting to take the tip and you only reminded them the cash would stay sitting on the counter. You weren’t taking it back either. 
You don’t really think about it when you take a picture of you and Joshua to upload on Instagram. At least, you try not to. Later, when you’re home and winding down for the night, you pull the picture back up. It’s amazing just how happy both of you look. You don’t need to read the comments to know that you’ve never looked so happy in your life. Every part of you wants to pull back again. It’s overwhelming. But, Jeonghan’s voice plays in your head and instead you push past. Make more plans that could break your heart. You have to just trust that he won’t. 
It isn’t until the weekend that you’re able to see him again because your schedules didn’t quite match up. That doesn’t stop him from calling you at night, though. Insisting that he wants to know how your day was, even if you can only spare a few minutes for a call. (Which never ends up being the case. You fall asleep on the phone with him twice. His voice is just so soothing when it’s all deep and soft.) 
Again, Joshua tells you the date is a surprise. He can be a little bit of a demon, when it suits him. Sure, he likes to pretend he’s not. That he’s above the chaos. Then, he does something like this and he can’t really escape it. But, he’s so sure he knows what you like that he’s positive you’ll enjoy the date. You remember how that chat had gone, too. You were ready to go to sleep, but unable to say goodnight. 
(“I have our next date planned,” Joshua says, voice soft to match the calm of the night.
“What is it?” you wonder.
“A surprise,” he answers.
“What if I don’t like it?” you ask back.
“You will,” he assures you.
“You sure seem to think you know me,” you joke. 
“Yeah, I do. Don’t worry, you’ll like this too,” he says.
There was no point in denying it. That confidence sent a bit of a shiver through you.) 
It turns out that the date is at a winery where you’re painting with wine. You have to ask him to say it again because you’ve only ever heard of wine and paint classes. Painting with wine is entirely new to you. It sounds fun, though, and you know how crafty Joshua can be, have seen all the projects around his apartment. So, even though you’re definitely not that artistic, you’re excited to see this as well. 
Admittedly, by the end of the session, your painting isn’t bad. It was a bit weird to use wine in that way, but they let you drink as well. Which makes it a lot easier to just go along with the idea of painting. Joshua’s painting, on the other hand, is beautiful. Not for the first time, you think his talents might be wasted at an office job. You’ve seen the bracelets he makes and now you’ve seen him paint. You’ve heard him sing and play the guitar. He’s impossibly artistic in a way that should make you jealous. Instead, it just makes you more endeared to him. 
You snap a picture of him and his art when he’s not looking and upload it before he can even realize it. It’s only when a notification goes off on his phone that he realizes. He doesn’t even say anything, just gets a sparkle in his eyes that makes you weary immediately. He’s busy tapping away on his own phone before a notification sounds on yours. Maybe you weren’t the only one to steal a candid shot if the picture of you laughing with a glass of wine in one hand and a paintbrush in the other is anything to go by. It’s the caption that really ruins you, though. Just a simple “think I’m addicted to her light”. It’s so simple and also so much sweeter than yours. You fight through the urge to run away. 
Which lasts until you get home from dinner. It was the perfect date, truly. Joshua always seems to know exactly how to plan out a day so everything works. After sipping wine and painting, he took you to one of his favorite restaurants. Nothing too pretentious, just kind of unassuming. The kind of place where you get good food and even better conversation. It’s (mostly) easy to keep your mind off the way your heart keeps racing.
When you’re back home, you’re not so lucky.
Back home, alone in your apartment, there aren’t any distractions. Nothing to stop your mind from all the ways that it can sabotage your own happiness. Nothing to stop you from thinking about how nobody, not even Johnny, has ever planned out such thoughtful dates for you. Nobody has ever taken the time to really know you like Joshua. Even if you won’t admit it, he knows you better than anyone you’ve ever dated. Which is terrifying, since this is all fake. And he hasn’t even known you that long. 
So, you do the rational thing and you pull back again. Answer his texts so that he doesn’t send Jeonghan over to figure out what’s wrong, but don’t make solid plans. Talk a lot about a work project that you really need to get done ahead of schedule so that you’re not stressing leading up to the wedding. And you throw in some easy suggestions in the meantime so that it still seems like you’re making an effort. 
Lunch on a work day so that it has a set ending time. Which still tugs at your heartstrings a bit because he takes a longer lunch just to meet you closer to where you work. 
An event where your parents purchased a table for charity because he’s in high demand with your family around. And he can’t be as affectionate. 
His Open Mic Nights, but with the excuse that you can’t stay too late because of your project and he should stick around with his friends. You’ll get home safely.
Small little things that keep you around him and keep up your conversations while still giving you time to breathe. You’re sure that you’re pulling it all off. And then, the wedding is around the corner. The finish line is in sight. 
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You: I’m not going to the wedding You: you don’t have to come pick me up Joshua: what are you talking about? You: i’m not going Joshua: but it’s literally in a few hours? You: yeah and i don’t wanna go, so you’re off the hook You: thanks for everything, but you don’t have to pretend anymore
Even if you know you’re being a little petulant, you don’t really care. This whole thing was supposed to be about protecting your heart. Protecting your pride. Not showing up to your cheating ex-fiance's wedding alone and looking like some kind of loser. It was not supposed to be about your heart getting clobbered anyway. So, you’re doing the only logical thing you can think of. Ignoring your problems. Avoiding both the wedding and Joshua. What you’re not prepared for, though you should be, is the knock that comes at your door half an hour later. 
Joshua is on the other side of the door and your heart actually stops. He’s got his tux on and his hair styled back off his face. His eyes are soft as they take you in, noting that you have your hair and make up done. Though, you’re still in your sweats. You got at least that far before you decided this was a stupid fucking decision. 
“Can I come in?” he asks when you don’t say anything.
“Sure,” you say and step aside. 
“You look like you’re getting ready,” he comments once he’s inside.
“I was, until I texted you,” you answer. “Speaking of, why are you here?”
“Because we had plans,” he says. 
“Yeah to go see my ex-fiance marry the girl he cheated on me with. Oh, and for you to pretend to be my boyfriend so I didn’t look pathetic,” you say with a huff. 
“You’re not pathetic. He’s an asshole,” Joshua says. He doesn’t swear often, so it catches you a little off guard. 
“Well, whatever, you don’t have to go. So, I’m not really sure why you’re here,” you say. 
“You’re being so cold. What’s going on?” Joshua asks and reaches out to you. Instead, you duck away from his touch. 
“Nothing is going on. It was stupid to care what Johnny thought or to try and save face somehow,” you say. 
“It’s not stupid. He hurt you and you didn’t deserve that,” Joshua urges.
“You really don’t know me that well. Maybe I did deserve it. Maybe I was awful to him and he had no choice,” you say.
“We both know that’s not true,” he says.
“Do we?” you challenge. 
“Yes, we do,” he presses. “There is nothing you could do that justifies cheating instead of just breaking it off. But, I also know you didn’t do anything wrong. Jeonghan and I talked about it.”
“You spoke to Jeonghan about my relationship behind my back?” you question. 
“What is going on? We’ve been hanging out for weeks and getting to know each other. I just wanted to know more about someone I was going to be helping. And I like knowing you,” Joshua says and you have to look away. You don’t need the reminder of how much time you’ve spent with him.
“Yeah, sorry about all that time we wasted. I’ll pay you back for the tux or anything else you had to buy to pretend to date me,” you say and he looks genuinely confused.
“I don’t…want you to pay me back for anything. It wasn’t a waste of time. I did this because I wanted to,” he says.
“Yeah, well, you don’t have to pretend anymore because I’m not going to the stupid fucking wedding. It was a really bad idea in the first place,” you say.
Joshua clenches his jaw and looks away. Like maybe he’s frustrated. “What is going on? Do you still have feelings for him?” 
“For who? Johnny?” you ask, so insanely caught off guard that you forget you’re mad.
“Yes,” Joshua says tightly.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you bark out.
“Well? You’re being really weird and now you don’t want to go to a wedding that we’ve been planning on,” he starts.
“Yeah, which should make you happy, since you don’t have to pretend to be my boyfriend anymore,” you say.
“Because you’re still in love with Johnny,” Joshua finishes like he hadn’t even heard you.
“Oh my god,” you nearly scream. “I’m not fucking in love with Johnny. This isn’t about him.”
“So, you don’t want to go to the wedding and it has nothing to do with him? That doesn’t make any sense,” he says. 
“No, I don’t want to keep doing this,” you say, gesturing between the two of you. “I don’t want to keep pretending to date you when I -”
You clamp your mouth shut. Unable to believe that you almost blurted out how you feel.
“When you what?” he challenges. “What? Is it that bad being around me? Is that it? Are you just sick of me? Ready to toss me aside?”
You laugh bitterly, not even able to appreciate the irony in the situation. “No, Joshua, I don’t want to toss you aside.” 
“Then, what? What am I supposed to think when you’ve been pushing me away for the last couple weeks? And I have to act like I haven’t noticed all the ways you’ve kept me at arm’s length since we went to the winery. Why did you just decide, literally today, that you don’t want to go to the wedding after all?” he asks, rambling. He’s pacing in front of you. “Why are you trying so hard to get rid of me?”
“Because I don’t want to get hurt!” you blurt out. “Because I don’t want to go to my fucking scumbag of an ex’s wedding where everyone is going to be giving me these looks of pity or focusing on my relationship with him when all I want is this.”
“This? What?” he asks, coming to a stop.
“This, Joshua, you and me. Having this just all be pretend is breaking my heart. I can’t keep doing it. It was supposed to keep me from getting my heart broken. It sucks and I hate it and I just wish it wasn’t pretend. I don’t want to go to the wedding and have you be so sweet and kind and caring when I’m going to know it has an expiration date. That it’s all just been for show,” you admit. You turn away, clutching your arms around your center because you’re so tired. And so exposed. So vulnerable. It’s awful.
The tears won’t stop, so you don’t notice how Joshua has closed the space between you until he wraps his arms around you from behind. Pulls you back against his chest and presses a kiss into your hair.
“So, let’s stop saying it’s pretend,” he whispers. 
“What?” you whisper back.
He turns you in his arms so that you’re facing him and gently brushes away the tears. “Let’s stop saying it’s fake. It doesn’t feel fake, does it?”
“No,” is all you can manage.
“So, it’s not fake and we’re not pretending,” he says.
“But,” you start to protest. 
“I knew I was in trouble, really deep trouble, as soon as we left your parents’ house. I was just waiting for you to catch up,” he says as he gently runs a thumb across your cheek to wipe away a tear . Your eyes go wide.
“That was barely a week in,” you say and he just shrugs. “And I’d dumped all my bullshit on you.”
“I think that’s actually what made me like you so much,” he says. “It was supposed to be fake and we were trying to get to know each other well enough to pull it off. But, instead, I just realized you were actually perfect.”
“Perfect? I was broken,” you joke and he shakes his head.
“No, you’ve been hurt. Who hasn’t? You’re also strong, kind, funny, a fiercely loyal friend, and one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever met, inside and out,” he says. 
“That’s so, you’re so sweet,” you say and try to hide your face. He doesn’t let you. “You like me?”
“I’ve liked you the whole time. I did think it was a date, after all,” he says. “And do you think I’m that affectionate with everyone?”
“We were pretending,” you argue.
“I wasn’t,” he argues back.
“Our closest friends thought you were,” you disagree.
“And was anyone else there in my apartment when I was still being affectionate?” he asks.
“Well, no, but…” you start.
“I heard you say always,” he tells you.
“You did?” you ask, sure that it’s been your secret this whole time.
“We don’t have to go to the wedding. But, if it’s just because you don’t want this to be over with me, then it’s not going to be over. I’m yours for as long as you want me,” he says so earnestly it nearly makes you blush.
“Careful, you might get sick of me,” you joke.
He puts a finger under your chin so he can look you in the eyes. “I’ll say it again. I’m yours as long as you want me. I won’t get sick of you.” 
“I…” you start and don’t know where to go. So you do the only thing you can think of and kiss him. It’s clear he’s a little caught off guard, but he recovers quickly. His arms wrap around you to hold you tight against him. It’s the first time you’ve really kissed him and you’re so screwed because he really is perfect at this too. 
“So, do I get you for the rest of today?” he asks.
You take in his tuxedo again, for real this time. Appreciating how well it’s tailored and how amazing he looks. With a sigh, you say, “you know, it’s a shame to waste such a nice tux.”
“Are you…I thought we weren’t going,” he stutters.
“I’m probably gonna have to fix my makeup in the car, but why not? I want to show off my super hot and very real boyfriend,” you say and watch him choke on air. 
“You can’t just say…” he starts.
“Damn, sick of me already?” you tease.
“You know I’m not,” he answers and moves to follow you.
“No, no. You don’t get to see me changing. I’ll be back out in a second,” you say. 
You’re in the middle of shimmying into your dress when you realize that you do still have a lot to talk about. A lot to figure out. This whole situation has been unusual, though, so it probably makes sense that there isn’t a template. Once you have your shoes on, you walk back into the living room, prepared to say something, only to find Joshua speechless.
“You look…” he starts.
“You’ve seen the dress already,” you say and smile.
“Not on you. Not in person. You look amazing,” he says and crosses to pull you into his arms. “Are you sure we have to go?”
“Yes,” you say and swat him. “But, I do know we have a lot to talk about.”
“I’m not in a rush,” he says and allows you to step away.
“We might need to be in a bit of a rush,” you say, checking the time and gathering all your things. 
“Let’s go, then,” Joshua says and offers his arm. 
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The wedding passes in kind of a blur. In truth, you barely even register Johnny or what he’s doing beyond the actual ceremony. The reception is so massive that it’s easiest just to focus on the people around you. Especially when you’re at a table with your friends. Thankfully, you’re not at a table with your parents or your sister. It does mean, though, that you’re sitting next to Hyejin, who has definitely realized that something shifted between you and Joshua. So, she’s trying to sneak in a question any time she can. Which is hard, given that Joshua is more attached to you than ever. And Hyejin doesn’t want to draw unnecessary attention to you. All you manage to let her know is that it’s real now and that you’ll fill her in after the wedding. (You’re also thankful that people seem to be cooing over Taehyung and Mimi since they’re the shiny new topic.)
It’s also nice to have Joshua there because he’s a built in way to excuse yourself from any conversation that you don’t want to be part of. It’s easy to just say you’re going to go back to the table. Or, in the case of a good song coming on, he’ll be quick to drag you to the dance floor and away from whatever conversation you’re stuck in. He’s a good dancer, too. You don’t miss the way Hyejin catches your eye when the first slow song comes on and he pulls you close to him. But, that’s a conversation for another day. All you wanted was to appreciate the way his hand felt on your lower back or your hand felt in his. 
When it was finally time to leave, Joshua led you out of the event, arm around you to guide you. Neither of you were drunk, but you had still hired someone to take you to and from the wedding anyway. A gift from your parents to appreciate you “doing the right thing” and coming to the wedding. For the sake of the families. It made you roll your eyes at the time, yet you’re thankful now. It would be far better than having to take an Uber or trying to get a room at the hotel (and risking seeing everyone else staying there the next morning). The ride home also gave you the chance to talk. Really talk. Neither of you cared much that someone else was driving (and he had the partition up, anyway), as you talked about your feelings honestly for the first time. 
As it turned out, you had a lot to say. Both of you. You hadn’t been nearly as good at hiding your feelings from Joshua as you had been at hiding them from yourself. He had hoped you were going to admit them to him after that night at his apartment. Instead, you avoided him. Yes, he knew that you had been avoiding him. You also weren’t very good at picking up on the signs he dropped about his feelings for you. He admitted that he could have just said something, but he was trying to be subtle so he didn’t scare you off. Trying to let his actions speak through more affection. You admit you were scared to think it was anything more than it actually was. Scared of your feelings. Scared of getting hurt again. Joshua completely understands that and admits that he’s a little scared, too, because you’re definitely more important to him than he was anticipating. He’s also confident that you can work through it together. It gives you a feeling of hope. Makes everything about you feel lighter. You see that relief reflected in Joshua’s eyes when they scan yours. 
The car pulls to a stop and he gets out first. He holds his hand out to help you out of the car. You’re not really sure what comes over you.
“Come up with me,” you ask, but it’s more of a statement. 
He hesitates, conflicted. “I don’t know if I should.”
“Why?” you ask, clearly confused.
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to leave,” he answers and you smile.
“Then stay,” you shrug, “at least for breakfast.” 
Without waiting for him to respond, you turn and head for the front door of the building. It means you miss the way he freezes in place, but you can guess at that by how long it takes before he catches up to you. He’s unusually quiet and still beside you as you go up the elevator and then behind you as you unlock the door. 
“I’m gonna go change,” you announce after you drop your keys by the door. You look back at Joshua, appreciating him in the tuxedo one last time. “I’ve got some clothes in the spare room that should fit. They’re Jeonghan’s ” 
You take the opportunity to breathe for a second, to let it settle in that you asked Joshua to come in with you and stay the night. Then, you set about changing out of your dress. Carefully clean your face free of the make-up. Brush through your hair and twist it back off of your face. Once you’re in comfy clothes and bare faced, you head back out into the living room. It’s odd that you don’t even feel self-conscious about Joshua seeing you like this, you’re instantly comfortable. 
Joshua’s back is to you in the kitchen. When he turns around, you see that he’s put together a little platter of snacks. You also were right, the t-shirt and shorts he picked out seem to fit him well. Jeonghan is a little slighter than Joshua, but he wears most of his clothes on the baggier side. 
“Thanks for the clothes,” he says when you both meet on the couch. “I was worried when you said you had spare clothes they were gonna be from an ex or Johnny or something.” 
Your laugh is sudden and clearly catches Joshua off guard. “I wouldn’t have kept any of Johnny’s clothes. I gave them all to charity.” 
“I’m sure he was thrilled with that,” Joshua laughs.
“They made a killing reselling them,” you laugh in response. “Wanna watch something?”
“Sure, you pick,” he says.
You start clicking through your saved list to find something that the two of you can watch. Once you settle on something, Joshua motions you over. Even if you want to pretend you’re considering it, you can’t. Every part of you wants to be close to him. When you slide over, he pulls you in tighter to his body and you fit like you always belonged there with him. 
If you thought he was physically affectionate when he was pretending, it’s nothing compared to now that he knows you’re both in this. He has one hand running along your arm or the other along your thigh. Sometimes he reaches out to take one of your hands. Other times he presses kisses into your hair. It’s pretty clear right away that he’s not paying much attention to the show. 
If you’re being honest, you’re not really either.
Everything is distracting. The way his fingers on the bare skin of your arm raises goosebumps. The way his kiss in your hair makes your eyes close in appreciation. The way he squeezes your thigh and short circuits your brain. 
You can’t help it. You turn your head so that you can look at him. He caresses your cheek, so gentle. Runs his thumb across your lip. You’re holding your breath, just waiting to see what he’s going to do. When you feel like you’re going to go a little bit insane, his hand moves to the back of your neck and pulls you in. It’s exactly like the first kiss before the wedding. At least, at first. It’s gentle, but full of so much desire. It’s also slow, like there’s no rush to any of it.
The position is really uncomfortable, though. You shift your legs so they’re draped over one of Joshua’s. He doesn’t miss a beat. It just allows him to pull you closer. There’s something incredibly intimate in kissing him like this. There’s this weird contrast of desire and comfort. It’s heated, but also a little lazy. Like you have all the time in the world. Which you do, you think, now that you’re being honest about your feelings.  When Joshua pulls back from the kiss, you chase his lips for a second before realizing that he’s pulled away. The way he looks at you nearly melts you into the couch.
“I don’t want to assume where this is headed, but maybe we should take it to the bedroom?” he asks. It’s cute, the way he’s a little shy. Like you didn’t invite him in to spend the night. Yeah, you’re in way over your head. At least it seems like he might be too. 
You pull your legs back so that you can stand up. His eyes track your movements as you reach your hand back to him. He accepts it without a word and lets you lead him to the bedroom. Even if he’s seen your bedroom before, this feels different. You’re waiting for him to look around, but his eyes are glued on you. Joshua even waits for you to lead him all the way to the bed, so you direct him to sit on the edge. 
Once Joshua is seated, you step between his legs and tilt your head down to kiss him. He wraps his arms around you so that he can pull you against him. There’s barely any space between you. It sends a little bit of a shiver as his hands run up your back and back down. The touch is gentle and caring. Like he’s trying to put everything he feels into it. Something about it just makes you feel so insanely safe. 
He’s the one to break the kiss again, but this time it’s to move back onto the bed and grab your hand to pull you along with him. It’s easy to just follow suit and get comfortable laying next to him, bodies facing each other. The kissing picks up when your lips meet again. Joshua kisses you breathless with a passion you’re eager to explore. One of his hands rests on your hip, casually sliding beneath your shirt and caressing up your side. You press your body further into his and capture his moan with a kiss. It feels like you’re a bit drunk off each other.
When Joshua’s hand moves back down, you take the chance to throw your leg over his hip, allowing you to press further into him and feel how this is turning him on. Part of you knows that he’s still waiting for you to set the pace. Or that he wants things to be a little slower. So, you help him out and roll the two of you over so that you’re straddled on top of him. Putting his hands on your hips, you lean over to kiss him again. In this position, you can also grind into his lap. You delight in how he’s already getting hard beneath you, enjoy the way his hands grip the soft flesh of your hips.
He pulls back and looks at you with blown pupils. “Baby, please don’t tease me.” 
“No silly pet name?” you tease him. 
“Not when you’re getting me this turned on like a horny teenager,” he whines. 
“You mean like this?” you ask, injecting as much innocence as you can when you slowly drag your clothed pussy across his dick again. 
Joshua throws his head back, eyes squeezed shut, and grips you tighter. “Yes.” 
“So you don’t like it?” you ask, grinding a little more. 
“Fuck,” he hisses out. And somehow that’s the thing that almost breaks you. Why is that one swear so hot on his lips? 
Without saying anything, you sit up a little bit, still making sure you’re straddling Joshua, so that you can pull his shirt off him. Your eyes go wide because you’ve never seen him shirtless. You’ve seen him in well fitted suits or shirts, but this is entirely different. His chest looks like it was sculpted by an artist. All your attention is on your fingers running along his chest and you don’t see the way it makes him a little shy. 
His hands reach for your own shirt, playing with the hem like he’s asking permission. So, you move his hands aside and pull it over your head, leaving your skin bare as well. You watch him drink you in, feeling almost empowered by the desire you see in his eyes. He pulls you back towards him so that he can get one of your breasts into his mouth. The way he teases your nipple with his tongue has you clenching around nothing. You can feel how wet it’s making you and try your best not to squirm when he moves from one breast to the other. 
“I need you,” you utter. 
“I need you, too,” he says against your skin. His hips buck up into you almost involuntarily. 
You slide off of him and pull your shorts down and he gasps that you don’t have any underwear on. It isn’t like you were expecting anything, you just wanted to be prepared. While he’s still a little drunk on the sight of you fully naked, you help him discard the rest of his clothing. The sight of his cock springing free, precum leaking out, has you wanting to get your mouth on him. 
But, you’re realizing, what you really want is to feel him inside you. After so much tension and wondering, you just want to have this moment together. You want to be as close as two people can possibly get. You want all the intimacy and to be able to see his face. It’s this thought that pushes you back to the bed to lay with him. 
Joshua repositions and runs a hand down your body. Lets his fingers run along your thighs and tease their way up to gather some of your wetness. Your eyes close as he runs a finger up your slit. It’s such a little amount of contact and it makes you moan anyway. 
“Damn, are you this wet just for me?” he asks and presses a kiss into the first bit of your skin he can reach.
“I want to feel you,” you admit. Joshua makes you press a finger into your pussy, but you stop him. Confusion takes over his features.
“I thought…do you not want this?” he asks. 
“I do, but I want…I want all of you,” you admit. “I want to feel you deep inside of me. I want to be completely ruined by you. I want to come together.” 
“Shit,” he hisses, hand stilling against your body. “On one condition.”
“What’s that?” you ask.
“I want to taste you soon,” he says, pressing a kiss into your shoulder.
The thought of him between your legs makes you shiver. It’s almost enough to forget that you want this first time to be together. “Deal.” 
“Do you have condoms? I wasn’t exactly expecting…” he says, trailing off.
“That drawer,” you say and point. 
He rolls himself off of the bed to open the drawer. You’re not sure why you expect his hands to be a little unsteady when he rips open the wrapper and rolls it onto himself, but he’s so calm. Maybe it’s just you that’s a little nervous. At least, that’s what you think until you catch the look on his face. It has to be the same as yours, naked want mixed with a little bit of uncertainty. Everything else has been so easy with you, what if this is where it goes wrong? 
“Just lay back,” he urges you, voice calming any lingering nerves. His voice drops to a whisper, like the next statement is just for him. “You’re so beautiful, every single inch of you.” 
It makes your heart constrict in a way that you’re not really prepared for. It would be nice if your feelings could stop flooding in all at once like a dam breaking. It’s overwhelming. You do as he says, though, and lean back against the pillow. Joshua gently spreads your legs apart and takes another moment to appreciate you. He can’t seem to help himself from running a finger along your entrance. 
Even though he would fully be within his rights to tease you, he doesn’t. He lines himself up at your entrance and looks to you for final confirmation. All you can manage is a nod. You know he wants to hear you, but you can’t bring yourself to form the words. So, he accepts the nods and slowly presses into you.
“Fuck,” you hiss as you adjust to him. 
“Are you okay?” he worries.
“Feels good,” you say with a slight whine. “It’s just been a bit.” 
He presses the rest of the way into you and then stills so you can get used to him. It’s really overwhelming. Not just because you’re finally feeling him inside of you. More so because he’s looking at you with more adoration than you’ve ever felt in your life. Like this is it for him. Like you’re it for him. It’s too early to be thinking of love, but you really don’t know if anyone has ever loved you so completely. You think he’s probably it for you too. 
Once he finally starts to move, you know it’s going to be over entirely too fast. He starts with slow thrusts, testing what you want. You dig your fingers into his arms as a way to ground yourself. To anchor yourself to him and in the moment. When he picks up the pace, your mind goes entirely blank. It’s just the right speed. While you love the hard and fast fucking, there’s something so much more intimate about this kind of in between speed. 
“God you feel so good,” he whines as he snaps into you again. “So tight and perfect.” 
“You’re so - oh my god,” you moan out, unable to finish the sentence as he hits you just right. 
Joshua moves one of your legs so that it’s over his shoulder and presses further into you, hitting deeper than you were prepared for.
“Fuck, Joshua, holy shit,” you scream out. 
“Love the sound of my name on your lips,” he manages as his thrusts pick up pace. 
You want to respond that you love saying it, want to say anything, but the thrusts are entirely too much. As if it wasn’t already too much, Joshua adjusts again so that he can press his thumb against your clit. He rubs circles in time with his thrusts and you think that you might see stars. You throw your head back, eyes pressed shut.
“Look at me, baby. I wanna see you when you come,” he urges, his own voice sounding ragged. 
Despite wanting to focus on the pressure building between you, you do as he asks. Your eyes meet his and it’s that look that makes that coil snap. You’re coming hard and digging your fingers into whatever you can find to release some of the tension in your body. This might be the best orgasm you’ve had. 
When you come back to this plane, Joshua has stilled inside of you. One of his hands gently caresses your face as he mumbles quiet praises. It’s so impossibly tender.
“It’s okay, sweetheart, you can move,” you assure him.
“Thank fuck,” he mumbles. 
His pace now picks up to something fast and hard with one of his large hands anchoring your thigh to his body. Your hands grip any part of his body that they can reach and you relish the way he hisses when your nails drag patterns down his skin. Marking him so that he belongs to you. Just as you belong so completely to him. 
It seems impossible but you can feel the tension building low in your stomach again. His thrusts are so hard that you feel like his cock might split you open and something about it just works for you. You hadn’t thought anything about him would translate to this kind of hard and fast sex, but it’s somehow better than you could have imagined. With him so focused on chasing his own high, you rub circles on your clit to bring yourself over the edge again. You tumble over the edge for a second time just as Joshua’s thrusts get erratic. You do your best to take over the rhythm before slowing down. 
Joshua collapses on top of you, cock still buried in your pussy, and sighs. His weight on top of you feels like the best security you’ve ever had. Your hands find their way into his hair, gently stroking and scratching his scalp. As he comes back around, he presses his head further into your hand. 
“Hey,” you say when he looks up at you.
“You’re perfect,” he responds and you can’t keep the smile off your face. 
“You were pretty perfect yourself,” you say. 
“Am I too heavy, I could…” he starts and you pull him tighter against you.
“Don’t you dare,” you warn. 
He doesn’t say anything, just nuzzles his face into your neck. But, you know that you can’t stay like this forever. So you don’t protest when he gently pulls himself up and gets out of the bed. You’re right behind him, leading him into the bathroom so that you can get both of you cleaned up. 
After getting cleaned up, dressed, and doing your respective night time routines, you and Joshua are settled back into your bed (on top of a fresh set of sheets). Although you’ve never been much for falling asleep cuddling, you can’t imagine leaving any space between you and him. When he wraps himself around you, all you can do is smile and settle deeper into his perfect chest. Honestly, every inch of this man is perfect and you’d be annoyed if you weren’t so helplessly attached to him. 
And it’s the best sleep you’ve gotten in a long time. You wake up with his chest pressed into your back and his arm still wrapped around you. It sounds like he’s still asleep based on his breathing and so you’re just considering slipping out of the bed. He moves in his sleep and pulls you tighter against him, making you feel that he’s semi-hard again. You press back against him, almost testing if he’s really asleep. 
He’s not. 
Joshua’s hand, already against the skin of your stomach and underneath your shirt, moves further up to your breast. His hand squeezes your breast and then he brushes his thumb over your nipple. Your body responds to his touch embarrassingly fast, which only seems to spur him on. He’s got your nipple between his fingers before you press back into him again, wiggling your ass against his dick without pretending you’re doing otherwise.
“Good morning beautiful,” Joshua says in a raspy voice into your ear. 
The warmth of his breath along with the pressure of him rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger has you suppressing a moan. In the quiet of the morning, he hears it anyway. He removes his hand from your breast and you want to pout at the loss of contact. That is, until his hand works down between your legs, roughly grabbing hold of your pussy through your shorts. He runs his middle finger through your folds, likely feeling the way your shorts are getting soaked through already. 
“Feels like someone might have woken up ready,” he says into your ear, voice sinfully low. His finger is still slowly teasing you through the damn material of your shorts. Somehow that makes it feel hotter. 
“I wonder why,” you retort, undermined by the way you squirm under his touch. 
“Do you want me to stop?” he asks and stops his movements. 
Your hand immediately moves to his. To guide him back to your cunt. “Please don’t. Want to see what those hands can do.” 
His mouth is still by your ear, so you hear the dark chuckle and feel the air tickle you. He moves your hand aside along with your shorts as he slips his hand inside the fabric. His middle finger resumes the previous pattern almost lazily. You’re about to ask him to stop teasing you when he presses a finger inside you suddenly.
“Fuck,” you nearly scream. 
“Is someone a little sensitive?” he teases. He’s a fucking demon and you would gladly sell your soul so he didn’t stop. 
The way he pumps his finger inside of you is entirely too slow. But, when you try to meet his rhythm, he stops. Just when you think you might actually die, he inserts a second finger. It makes your back arch, pressing your ass further against his now very hard cock. He hisses and pulls his fingers out from you. As you’re turning over to adjust your position, you see him insert his fingers into his mouth. Holy shit. He really is the hottest man you’ve ever met. 
Instead of letting you carry on in any way, he pushes himself up and repositions. You’re not really sure what he’s doing until he reaches for your shorts to pull them off. His focus is on you, silently asking for permission again. All you can do is nod. 
“Told you that I wanted to taste you,” he reminds you once your shorts are off. 
“Are you sure…” you start to ask before he cuts you off.
His head snaps up so he can meet your eyes. “I’ve been waiting to taste you for weeks.”
That shuts you up pretty effectively. What can you really say in response to that? Anything you might have said dies in your throat as he licks a messy stripe up your folds. He quickly settles, using one hand to keep you spread open for him, and licks into you. It’s all you can do to keep your eyes on him as his head bobs between your legs. You thread your fingers through his hair to keep him in place even though you know he’s not going anywhere. (And okay, maybe it’s more to ground yourself to him than anything else.) 
It shouldn’t be surprising that his attentiveness translates this well, but it is a little surprising how well he seems to know your body. The way he knows just when to switch from licking into your cunt to flicking his tongue over your clit. The way he knows when he needs to add a finger and then a second. The way he can tell everything your body needs before you even realize it. 
By the time he pulls himself up your body, he’s got you nearly panting from the build up. The kiss he presses to your lips is sloppy and a little desperate. Like you’re both totally fucked out. His fingers inside you keep a relentless pace as he hooks them, hitting that perfect spot. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you yell out, breaking the kiss. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire in an entirely different way from the night before. 
There’s nothing in the world but Joshua and the way he coaxes everything out of you. The way he has you squirting on his fingers. You’re not even sure if the praise coming out of your mouth makes any sense and you’re definitely not sure what he says in return. It’s all you can do just to appreciate the moment. 
You think that you’re going to get the chance to get your mouth around his cock now that he’s given you another mind blowing orgasm. But, by the time you get your breathing under control, you see that he’s rolling a condom from your drawer onto himself. He pulls you to the edge of the bed so that your legs are hanging off. It’s instantly stronger than you’re expecting from him and pulls a gasp from you. 
Without even thinking, your legs fall open. Joshua seems to have found a bottle of lube, too, and spreads it over his cock. When he lines himself up at your entrance, you expect him to ease in like the night before. He doesn’t. He snaps his full length inside of you in one motion and you’re so overstimulated, but it feels so good.
“Fuck me, Joshua, oh my fucking god,” you say and clench down around his dick. 
“Shit, that feels so good,” he hisses. 
“You feel so good,” you moan. 
“You have no idea,” he answers and starts thrusting. 
It’s a complete haze from the moment you hear his skin slap against your own. Every coherent thought leaves your head. There is nothing in the world but you and him and the way you make each other feel. He leans over your body, crowds your space. Steals sloppy, desperate kisses. Praises you constantly and in broken sentences. It’s all you can do just to hold on, so sore and so unable to stop.
Your hands grip into the sheets around you that are completely rumpled. You try everything to keep your eyes on Joshua’s face. Memorize the way he looks when he’s concentrating. Appreciate how totally gone he is because you’re sure it’s the same look you have. Delight in the way his eyes get even wider when you clench your pussy around him. 
It feels a little like he’s using your body to chase his own high, except there’s total comfort in that. All you want is for him to feel as good as you do. All you want is for him to get that release, especially since you haven’t been able to get your mouth on his cock yet. 
“Harder Joshua, please. I know you’re close,”  you beg and he obliges immediately. 
Even though you’re trying to meet the rhythm, you can’t. It’s too erratic and too unpredictable. So you pull him down to you again and kiss him. Slip your tongue inside his mouth and let the kisses get as sloppy as they need to. You feel how close he is and only kiss him harder. He breaks the kiss for the last few thrusts, groaning as he comes. You’re right there with him. 
(Later, he tells you that he’s never seen anyone hotter than you when you come. It would make you embarrassed in any other situation. But, you realize that you’ve never been with anyone that’s come close to him, so maybe it’s okay to accept his praise. Maybe you deserve it. Maybe this is the person that you’ve been waiting for.)
Now, you really do have to get up and clean up. As tempting as Joshua’s offer to shower together is, you don’t want it to turn into shower sex because that’s just not sexy (or practical). Neither one of you can seem to guarantee keeping their hands off the other. Instead, you tell him that he can use the shower in your guest room. It’s fully stocked and there are still more spare clothes in there. He insists that he should get some laundry going because you must be running out of clean sheets and you definitely made a mess. 
With Joshua cleaning up some around the house, you’re the first out of the shower and dressed. Pleasantly sore in the kind of way you really enjoy. You’re sitting on the couch and scrolling through your phone, trying to decide if you want to order food or just cook what you already have. Before you can make a decision, there’s a knock at the door. It’s impossible to guess who it could be. Even Jeonghan wouldn’t bother you like this. Although he’s been texting asking for an update after you told him you finally got your shit together, he wouldn’t show up like this. 
When you open the door, you’d give anything for it to just be Jeonghan. Instead, you see a face that you’ve been seeing entirely too much lately.
“What are you doing here, Johnny?” you ask with a heavy sigh. 
“I need to talk to you,” he says.
“Why?” you ask.
“Come on, don’t be like that,” he pleads.
“Johnny, it’s the day after your wedding. What the fuck are you doing on my doorstep?” you ask, arms crossed. 
“Are you really going to make me do this in the hallway?” he asks. 
“I don’t see any reason to invite you inside,” you retort. 
“It’s about your, uh, boyfriend,” Johnny says a little awkwardly.
“Joshua?” you ask because that actually piques your interest a bit.
“Can I come in?” he asks.
“No. What about Joshua?” you ask.
“This is really awkward. It would be better if we were sitting down…” Johnny starts.
“My little honeybun, is everything okay?” Joshua asks from inside the apartment. He must be out of the shower. 
“Babe, we talked about the pet names,” you remind him as he joins you at the door.
“Oh, uh, I wasn’t expecting him to be here,” Johnny says.
“I’m her boyfriend, so I know why I’m here. What are you doing here?” Joshua says without hiding any disdain.  "Are you really her boyfriend, though?" Johnny challenges. You stiffen almost imperceptibly, but Joshua must notice it because he wraps an arm around you protectively. "Of course I am. Why are you here?"
“I needed to talk to her,” Johnny says stiffly.
“About you, apparently,” you say with your eyes on Joshua. 
“Right, so can you give us a minute?” Johnny asks with his eyes on Joshua.
“No, he can’t. If you have something to say, just say it. Then you can leave us alone,” you say.
“Fine, if you really want it to be like this, fine,” Johnny says. “I knew he looked familiar when I saw him at your parents’ house with you. It just took me a while. I ran into him at a couple of functions back when I was in college and traveling all around for my dad.” 
“Okay? And? I’m sorry, but I’m not sure why I care,” you say even though you know where he’s going.
“He was always with older women,” Johnny presses. 
“Can you just make your point so we can get back to our day?” Joshua asks.
“Fine,” Johnny says, irritated. “The whispers were that women paid him to come to the events with them. That he was selling himself to them.” 
You actually snort at the phrasing. It takes you several seconds to compose yourself. You wonder what the point of Johnny doing this and if it’s his way of trying to keep you on the hook. Then you realize that you don’t really care what he does. For the first time in forever, you’re genuinely happy. 
“I’m glad you think this is funny,” Johnny says. 
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I know how Joshua helped pay for his education. And like why am I going to give him a hard time over seizing an opportunity? There’s nothing wrong with profiting off of someone wanting his company platonically,” you say. 
“You’re assuming he wasn’t also sleeping with them,” Johnny says, a little stubborn.
“No, I’m not assuming. I know he wasn’t because we’ve talked about this. He told me all about it without even being prompted. And unlike certain people in my life, I have absolutely no reason to doubt him. I know I can actually trust him,” you say. “It was also years before we met. We’ve all got history.”
“Nice dig,” he says. 
“It’s not a dig, Johnny. Not everything is a slight,” you say with a sigh. “Where does Gabby think you are?”
“What?” Johnny asks. 
“Your wife,” you clarify. “Where does she think you are?”
“Oh, well, that’s not important. I just said I had some errands to take care of,” Johnny says and you roll your eyes.
“We’re done, Johnny,” you say.
“Wait,” he says as you’re moving to shut the door. “I know I fucked up, but…”
“There’s no buts. Not anymore,” you say. “Maybe there was a point where I’d want to hear the buts and the apologies and all that. I’m happy now, though, and you can’t even tell your wife that you came to see your ex-fiancee the day after your wedding.” 
“It’s not like…” he starts and you start to close the door at the same time.
“It’s exactly like that. Goodbye, Johnny,” you say. 
The second you close the door, you feel a giant weight lifted off you. You just feel tired. It’s obvious that there aren’t any feelings there anymore, so him pretending he cares as a pretense to see you just feels irritating.
“Are you okay?” Joshua asks, eyes raking over you.
“Yeah, I’m good,” you say.
“You sure?” he asks.
“Yeah, really. I think I knew when I saw him at my parents’ house that time you came over for dinner that I was completely over it,” you say. “I’m sorry he tried to bring something like that up or make it a big deal.” 
“I don’t care. It’s like you said, I did it and I’m not ashamed of that,” he says. “But, uh, I really wanted to thank you.”
“For what?” you ask.
“For defending me and for saying you trust me,” he says. It makes you a little shy for a second, so you look down.
“Oh, well, it’s not a big deal,” you say. 
Joshua closes the space and tilts your chin up to look at him. “It’s a huge deal to me. I know we started pretending, but trusting me means the absolute world.” 
“You make it easy,” you admit. 
That seems to render him a little speechless as well because all he does is pull you into him in the tightest hug he’s ever given you. Your body fits into his like a puzzle piece. Which sounds sappy, even if in your head, and you don’t actually care. It’s the safest and the happiest you’ve ever felt.
“What?” he asks when you pull away.
“Nothing, I just think this is going to work,” you say. 
Joshua smiles at you, that genuine smile he saves for when he’s at his happiest. “Yeah, I think so too.” 
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i hope you enjoyed this fic! let me know your thoughts 💕
tag list: @aaniag, @gyuminusone, @crepecakeu, @tinyelfperson, @dokyeomkyeom, @amoryeonjun, @miriamxsworld, @hongrizoon, @klecksstorys, @sunflowergyeomie, @straykidswhoo789, @holistic, @vanishingboots, @babybae-shisui, @matchahyuck, @sonybear40, @kimseokgen, @hyneyedfiz, @miujunhui, @graybaeismytae, @hyucksrealm, @livixxn, @sharonxdevi, @coupsystar8, @sana-is-ms-rmty, @pyeonghongrie-main, @naajaeminsgf, @beomesbabe, @magicshop913, @deletingthekisses, @lissiesykes (strikethrough means i couldn't tag, check your settings!)
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smutoperator · 1 month ago
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Lost in Bermuda Triangle
Kwon Yuri, Im YoonA, Seo Joohyun (Seohyun) x Male Reader
Part of Legends series
Tags: (a little) acrobatics, anal, breeding noonas, (a little) food play, foursome, full nelson, honeymoon, hotwife, mating press, mommies, multiple creampies, pearly gates, poolside sex, stacking, titfucking, vacation, visual line.
Word count: 6155
You had just managed to save some money for your first vacation. You decided to start rather slow, taking a typical cheap vacation to Jeju. One day, as you were eating at a cafe, you met a much older woman; she was about to turn 35, and you were in your early 20s.
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"Hi, my name is Yuri," she told you. "Hi," you said to her. You two started chatting, and quickly that turned into a date. Yuri took you to her apartment, where you too had an amazing night in bed. She truly felt reinvigorated, finding the young guy she was searching for for years. A few more days passed, and you two kept the routine until Yuri made a proposal.
"I think we should marry in secret," Yuri said. You were unsure about doing that in such a short span of time, but if this was the way you would get to keep your amazing in bed and hot noona alongside you, so be it. "I'm gonna invite a couple of friends to our wedding to be our bridesmaids; is that fine to you?" she asked. "Of course," you answered.
You and Yuri married each other under the watch of her friends YoonA and Seohyun. "We'll have the honeymoon at this address; come meet us there," Yuri said. You were surprised she said "us" instead of "me"; maybe it was a mistake. Who knows?
You arrived at the big house Yuri instructed you to. As you climbed upstairs, the first woman you saw wasn't your wife, but rather one of her best friends, who was completely naked.
"Hello," Seohyun greeted you, who was in shock looking at her tall body and her big tits. But you decided to be gentle and kiss her anyway. "Your wife brought us here. She's across the hall in her bedroom. You know, you're a lucky guy, about to get three girls for the price of one," Seohyun said. 
As Seohyun gave you the green light, you started sucking her big tits already, making her moan sexily. "There is more waiting for you, baby; follow me," she said. You entered a room where Seohyun guided you, but your wife wasn't the one in there, but another one of her beautiful best friends, this time YoonA, lying completely naked on the couch.
Seohyun and YoonA shared kisses with each other as you admired their beautiful bodies from afar while they made out with each other. Both girls were already going wild, performing a 69 with each other, Seohyun on top, YoonA at the bottom. As both girls licked each other's pussies, you started to get hard too, and your honeymoon was just starting.
"Can you girls bring me to my wife?" you interrupted them. "Sure, baby," Seohyun answered as she and Yoona guided you to another room. Yuri was finally there, completely upside down as she performed a pole dancing routine while you shared kisses with YoonA and Seohyun. "Look at your beautiful wife; I think she's very eager to suck your cock," Seohyun said.
Yuri danced in front of you as you focused your attention on her. "Let's go, baby, shove that big cock in my mouth in front of my friends, show them why I chose you," Yuri said.
You had no choice but to unzip your pants and shove your cock in your wife's mouth. Yuri, despite being upside down, quickly took it all the way deep with ease, making you groan. "Oh fuck," you said as Yuri planted her hands on the floor and bobbed her head on it. You pushed your shaft against her face for a bit before bringing her down and spanking her tanned ass. Yuri crawled into the bed and kissed her best friends as you admired your wife's sexy body.
"So, hubby, who's going first?" Yuri asked you, who focused your attention on Seohyun and her big tits, sucking them like a baby. Yuri and YoonA quickly followed suit as you three teamed up on the maknae's boobs, Yuri also playing with Seohyun's pussy, rubbing her hands around her friend's clit.
"Take that cock," Seohyun said as YoonA pushed herself forward to bob her head on your shaft while you and Yuri stayed focused on sucking Seohyun's tits. Yuri soon slid under your body, heating up and licking your balls while Seohyun motorboated her tits in your face and Yoona kept sucking your shaft. "Your husband got such a nice cock," YoonA said.
You lay on the bed as all three girls fought for your cock, Seohyun on the left, YoonA in the center like always, and Yuri on the right. Your wife fed your pole straight into Seohyun's sexy mouth before taking her turn choking on it. Seohyun and YoonA now tongued your balls. "It tastes so good," Yuri said, handing it back to her friends. Seohyun got more aggressive this time, going for a fast and sloppy blowjob. "Baby is so lucky, having all those hot noonas fight like crazy for your big cock, aren't you? Look how naughty they are sucking your dick; doesn't it look so good?" Yuri asked.
"My pussy is getting so wet watching my friends suck your big cock, hubby; they are so hot and nasty." Yuri said before getting into a sloppy blowjob of her own. "That fucking cock is so nice; you're so lucky, Yuri," Seohyun said.
"Bring those big, juicy tits and wrap them under my husband's cock," Yuri demanded of Seohyun, who quickly followed and gave you a very aggressive and bouncy titfuck. "Fuck yeah," Yuri said, watching Seohyun's big boobs bounce like crazy up and down your cock, adding a little spit as Seohyun kept squeezing your shaft. "Her tits are so fucking perfect," Yuri said, licking them while Soehyun kept performing her titfucking show. You quickly started meeting the bounce of her boobs with thrusts upwards, increasing the friction with Seohyun's wonderful melons. "Let's go, baby, fuck those titties; they are so big and soft, perfect for fucking." Yuri cheered on as she kissed Seohyun while YoonA licked the tip of your cock every time it emerged out of Seohyun's boobs.
"Tonight, this cock is our fun stick; we can do whatever we want to it," Yuri told her friends as Seohyun continued to squeeze her boobs around it, taking every chance she could and then deepthroating. "You suck it so good, but I'm not surprised; you got a lot of practice with microphones," Yuri praised her as both teamed up on your cock, while YoonA kissed you up top.
YoonA moved down as all three girls sucked your cock as hard as possible. "This cock needs to be put to good use," Yuri said as YoonA deepthroated it and jerked it hard. "Whose pussy should go in first?" she asked. "I think you need to lay back and let us use you," she continued.
You followed your wife's instructions as Seohyun sat on your face while YoonA sat her pussy on your cock. Yuri watched as her friends had fun with you, Seohyun grinding her cunt in your face while YoonA bounced on your cock nice and slow. "I love watching that big cock stretch that pink pussy," Yuri told YoonA, while Seohyun leaked the first juices into your mouth.
"Then come here and get this privileged view," YoonA instructed Yuri as your wife ducked down to suck your balls while YoonA kept bouncing on your shaft."YES, YES, YES, IT'S SOOO GOOOD," she moaned as she increased her pace, grinding on your dick while Yuri fingered her cunt, YoonA soon reciprocating the favor and reaching her hands into your wife's pussy as well. "Keep going, girl, bounce on that dick," Yuri cheered on Yoona. "Look at me; show me how much of a slut you are for my hubby's big cock; take all of it, all the way deep," she continued.
YoonA pulled your cock out of her pussy, letting your wife have a taste of it. "Bounce on it," Seohyun ordered, dropping out of your face and lining behind YoonA to spank her sexy butt. Your blood started boiling, and your urge to pound YoonA's warm cunt hard only increased each second. You grabbed her waist and pushed YoonA down against your body, thrusting upwards as hard as you could. "Oh my God," she moaned, caught by surprise but enjoying her dream fantasy of getting her cunt destroyed by a young stud with endless stamina.
You grabbed YoonA's long legs and locked her in a full nelson position, putting one of Korea's most sought-after pussies at full control of you. "OH MY GODDDDD," she screamed as your cock now pounded her cunt like a piston, using her like a fuckdoll, which YoonA enjoyed a lot. A big young cock treating her like a toy is like heaven to her. "FUCK ME JUST LIKE THAT," she screamed just in time before Seohyun shut her mouth, Yuri enjoying as she licked your swinging balls, hitting her face and landing right against YoonA's walls, while your hands reached from behind to grope her tits. "Fuck me harder; make me your dirty fucking whore," she begged as you showed no signs of slowing down.
"USE HER FUCKING PUSSY, THERE YOU GO," Yuri commanded and enjoyed as you locked YoonA's legs further up in the air and increased the speed of your poundings. "FUCKKKKKK," the visual screamed as you turned her into just a cocksleeve, slamming her cunt with hard thrusts and fulfilling the dream of every Korean dude who grew up under the Girls' Generation domination era. YoonA turned into a screaming mess as your cock ripped her pussy apart under your wife's watch. "YES, YES, YES, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK." She couldn't stop screaming while both Yuri and Seohyun enjoyed watching you use her pussy to the maximum and dreamed of taking their turns on your big cock next.
Yuri got extra dirty, licking Seohyun's asshole while the maknae licked your shaft that still pumped YoonA like a piston. As soon as you pulled out of her, a numb YoonA could only think of tasting herself in that cock, bobbing her head as hard as she could and racing to take first dibs in tasting her juicy cunt. "Give me that fucking cock," Yuri ordered, but it was too late, as Seohyun quickly jumped ahead of her, sliding your cock in her pussy shortly after YoonA stopped sucking it off. "AHHHHH," she screamed as your big shaft ripped through her hole.
You pushed Seohyun's body closer to yours as YoonA slid on top of the maknae, interlocking the lips of her pussy with the ones of Seohyun's mouth. Seohyun now had the best of both worlds, able to taste your cock fresh from YoonA's cunt while her own cunt got pounded hard by it. You didn't let Seohyun even adjust to your cock ripping her pussy apart, picking up right where you had left off with YoonA, while the visual grinded her cunt on the maknae's face. Yuri loved to see it, her friends having fun with her hubby.
"GIVE IT TO ME, USE ME LIKE A FUCKING TOY," Seohyun begged as your cock pounded her pussy balls deep. Yuri chimed in and played with her friend's big, bouncy boobs as they jiggled with every hard thrust you gave to Seohyun's pussy, slapping them against each other. "Look at those big fucking tits jiggling like jelly," Yuri said, loving how submissive Seohyun looked as YoonA continued to grind in her face. Your hands reached into Seohyun's clit as you pounded her into a crazy pearly gates position, and she enjoyed every second of it. "AHHHH, YES, YES, YES, YES," she screamed as loud as possible.
"Fuck her, take that pussy," Yuri commanded as you destroyed Seohyun's pussy to the fullest as well. "AHHHHH, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," she kept moaning, clinging to YoonA's pussy as your thrusts kept stabbing her insides and Yuri kept playing with her tits. You and YoonA started fingering Seohyun's clit together, quickly triggering a reaction from the maknae. "OH SHIT, DON'T STOP, DON'T STOP," she begged, getting weaker and weaker.
"I'M GONNA CUM," Seohyun screamed, making you, YoonA, and Yuri only push harder against her. "Give me that fucking cum," Yuri commanded as all three of you rubbed Seohyun's clit, her head resting on YoonA's lap as the pounding didn't stop. Seohyun got away from your grasp and started bouncing on your cock, while Yuri fingered her and you fingered YoonA, making the visual squirt all over your face. The room only got louder, filled by the endless moans of Seohyun and YoonA. "Come on, girl, cum for me," Yuri commanded. "Show me how much you love this cock; ride it hard until you cream all over it," she continued, looking at Seohyun.
Seohyun turned into the center of attention, all the girls teaming up on her as your cock kept pushing. Yuri sucked her tits, and YoonA licked her clit. "God, that's so amazing," Seohyun said as she was overwhelmed. You chimed in and kissed her, then moved down into her amazing boobs. "OH YEAH, MAKE ME CUM," she screamed, finally releasing her juices.
"Wifey, it's your turn now," you directed your attention to Yuri, who quickly crawled in your direction on all fours as you exited the bed. The other girls cheered. "We wanna see those two lovebirds," YoonA said as you carried Yuri in your arms, taking her to the pole dancing apparatus she was at when you found her in that room, sitting at the bottom of it and letting her squat down on your cock.
"Oh shit, oh fuck," Yuri moaned as she perfectly bounced on that dick, YoonA and Seohyun giving her kisses from up top and enjoying the view. "That's so sexy," Seohyun said as she spat on Yuri's mouth. "Dirty whore so addicted to cock," YoonA said to her as she pushed her pussy on Yuri's mouth for your wife to eat, you just watching as she kept riding your cock. YoonA put one of her legs up, letting Yuri and Seohyun both stimulate her, Yuri licking her cunt while Seohyun fingered it. The it girl in the end always gets herself to the center of attention, you becoming a sideshow to YoonA's squirting all over your wife's face while Yuri bounced on your cock.
"Kiss my ass," YoonA tells Yuri as your wife moves into her asshole, making the visual moan hard as her licks got more frequent with the speed of her bounces on your cock picking up. Seohyun tries to match and pushes harder, fingering YoonA's clit. "AHHHHHHH," the visual queen screams, both girls now teaming up to eat her holes, Yuri in her ass, Seohyun in her pussy. "YES, YES, YES," Yuri screams as she continues to impale herself on your cock, enjoying one of the best rides ever while YoonA shoves her butt in her face.
Yuri twerks on your cock, leading to you spanking her ass and spreading her cheeks. YoonA pushes your wife's head further into her anus, getting tongued really good while Yuri moans all over her anal fuckhole; Yuri increases the pace of her twerking, thinking of the night before her wedding when she made you cum all over her pussy with that same move. But she decides to be a kind, sharing wife and spares you from it, letting her friends enjoy more of your cock as she pulls out of it and brings YoonA in your direction. "Looks like she's very horny; we can't satisfy her anymore," Yuri says as YoonA gets closer to you, and you jerk your cock off in anticipation. You already knew how beautiful she was, but face to face and completely naked, she looks even more amazing.
You kiss YoonA, then lift her right leg, pounding her pussy hard from the start as she clings to both poles: yours and the dancing instrument. "Oh shit, oh shit," the beautiful visual moans as Yuri watches it closely, massaging her pussy while Seohyun eats your wife's ass to take a little break. "You like the way he fucks you?" Yuri asks, but YoonA doesn't answer as she kisses you, but Yuri can see your cock bulging under her friend's fit belly. "OH FUCK, OH FUCK, OH FUCK," YoonA screams as you increase the speed and lift her leg further up in the air, stretching her out to the fullest once again. Your wife truly wasn't lying when she said YoonA got one of the most fuckable cunts to ever exist.
"Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop," YoonA begs. Not like you ever would; her pussy is just too good for that. You take it at full speed, making Yoona moan really hard as her legs are fully spread and her eyes roll. She clings to you with more kisses as Yuri just enjoys her friend getting destroyed the way she likes the most. "OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD," she screams as you keep going, Yuri now letting Seohyun have a privileged seat and finger YoonA's pussy as she gets fucked hard while your wife eats Seohyun's ass. YoonA decides to go full acrobat, facing Seohyun and kissing her as she puts her opposite leg up in the air and lets you keep railing her cunt even harder.
"Yes, yes, yes, keep going, OH FUCK," YoonA commands as her cheeks clap hard, and she turns into your free-use fuckslut. This is better exercise for her than any trip to the gym; she loves the way your cock destroys her cunt. You grab YoonA from behind and give her a rough standing doggy while choking her. "OH YEAHHHH," she screams in excitement as loud noises come out of her cheeks getting clapped. "So fucking good," she moans, Yuri and Seohyun making out to the scene of her friend getting pounded into oblivion.
"Who wants to go next?" you ask Yuri and Seohyun as you rub your shaft between their mouths, both of them enjoying it a lot. YoonA soon joins, and you are in paradise, having three beautiful women's faces all over your cock. Yuri clings to your balls as YoonA and Seohyun rub their mouths against your shaft and take turns deepthroating it. 
"Let's stack them up," you tell the girls. Seohyun gets at the bottom, Yuri in the middle, and YoonA up top. You start with the maknae. "OH FUCK YES, GIVE ME THAT COCK, PLEASE, KEEP GOING, THAT FEELS SO GOOD," a needy Seohyun screams as you fuck her pussy and eat YoonA's ass at the same time.
You tease Yuri, fingering her cunt before it's her turn to take your cock inside her. Grabbing YoonA's slim waist up top, you thrust hard against your wife's pussy. "OH FUCK YES, I LOVE THAT BIG COCK," Yuri says as you pound her and spank YoonA's ass. Soon, it's the visual's turn. Your wife can tell how addicted you are to her friend's pussy as you fuck YoonA the hardest among all three, making her live up to her reputation as a free-use toy. "OH FUCKKKK," she screams as you push hard into her cunt for a third time that day.
You keep taking turns among the girls, moving back to the middle to fuck Yuri while kissing YoonA and groping her tits, the visual queen slapping your face while you slap her tits. You then finally drop all the way down to the floor, sliding your cock under Seohyun's body until it reaches deep in her cunt. "AHHHH!" she screams, her walls still very sensitive from the crazy pounding you gave her. You push up into her pussy as the other two girls put all their featherweight on top of Seohyun. "OH YEAH," she screams. You then do the same to Yuri and YoonA, pounding them.
You take YoonA first as all the girls bend themselves over against the bed. "More fun," Yuri says. "How did you get so lucky?" YoonA asks her friend as you are already working her pussy once again while Yuri and Seohyun smile at each other. You use YoonA really hard, as she has proved to be able to take it, pulling her hair and spanking her butt hard as you show her who owns her delicious cunt. "Look at that perfect ass jiggling," Yuri comments.
Seohyun is next. "AHHHH YEAHHHH," she soon screams, getting overwhelmed as you grab her waist and the other two girls grab her tits, and you finger Yuri and YoonA's pussies as you pound the maknae. "I love that nice young stud cock; look how hard she pushes into that fucking pussy," Yuri says, staring at you and then kissing YoonA.
It's finally your wife's turn. "Ohhhh, stick that cock in there," she commands. You grab her neck. "Oh my God, I love watching that big cock fucking Yuri," Seohyun tells you as you fuck your wife the hardest of all three. "Baby, you're gonna make me cum," Yuri announces, her walls clenching hard on your dick as you keep pounding her. "HARDER, BABY, HARDER," she demands, and you keep pushing, grabbing her hair hard. "YES, YES, YES, DON'T FUCKING STOP, OHHHHH," Yuri screams as you spank her ass and go even faster, sharing kisses with YoonA and Seohyun. "Use my fucking pussy; take it all; I'm so fucking wet for you. Cum inside me; put a baby inside your hot wife's womb," Yuri begs.
"DEEPER, DEEPER, NOBODY HAS EVER FUCKED ME LIKE THAT. I WANT YOUR CUM IN MY PUSSY, PLEASE, BREED ME," Yuri screams as her walls tighten further; she's ready to cum at any moment, and so are you, taking her cunt at maximum speed as you enjoy your final seconds before inevitably blowing that huge load inside her. "TAKE THAT FUCKING COCK," you say to her, spanking her ass. Her wall clenches, and it's that way that everything ends, both of you cumming at the same time as Yuri's cunt squeezes your cock until it milks your sperm that lands in her womb. 
YoonA and Seohyun take the sloppy seconds of your cum oozing out of Yuri's pussy. "That was amazing, hubby," your wife says, kissing you as both girls swap your cum with her, and then she spits it on Seohyun's big tits. "I love spitting cum all over those tiddies," Yuri says. Your cock needs a rest; fucking those three beauties isn't easy.
The three girls take a rest at the hot pool, their bodies completely naked as Yuri praises you. "Nobody fucks you like us," she says. "Thanks, Yuri, for helping us fulfill our young stud fantasy," YoonA says. You pick up a bottle of champagne and pop it up, spraying it all over their tits.
"I'm gonna make you guys some food," Yuri says as she heads inside and puts her bikini on. YoonA takes her towel and washes herself, moving inside as well as she picks back her clothes, leaving you and Seohyun alone at the pool. You just can't stop staring at her boobs. Until she finally makes a move.
"You wanna fuck those tiddies again?" Seohyun asks. "Well, I don't say no to a girl like you," you tell her. You sit on the border of the pool; your cock is still flaccid, but it gets back up as soon as Seohyun squeezes it between her tits, her moving them beautifully up and down and sucking your tip from time to time, smiling at you each time she does it and getting your cock harder and harder.
Seohyun's boob massage keeps going for a while. "More, baby, more," you tell her. Suddenly, YoonA appears back on the frame as she was watching it from her room and licking her chops. She picks up a can of cream on the table to the side of the pool and sprays it all over Seohyun's tits, catching both of you by surprise. 
"What are you doing, YoonA?" Seohyun asks. "Shhhh, we don't want Yuri to hear us; let's have him all to ourselves." YoonA replies as the covers your cock in cream, letting Seohyun eat it now and suck your cock by the pool under YoonA's watch. Soon, you pick up the cream and pour it on YoonA's midriff, licking it while Seohyun keeps taking your cock in her mouth. 
You bring Seohyun out of the pool, eating the cream from her tits, kissing the torsos like crazy afterwards, then feed your cock in each of their mouths for them to deepthroat, taking turns fucking their faces while pouring extra doses of cream on your cock for them to taste as YoonA and Seohyun have fun getting dirty.
You carry Seohyun and suck her tits while YoonA keeps choking on your cock. "I want this fucking dick back inside me," Seohyun whispers in your ear. You promptly oblige, getting her back on the floor as you and YoonA warm her up, you licking Seohyun's ass while YoonA eats her pussy. "Fuck yes," Seohyun moans as both of you team up on her holes.
You finger fuck Seohyun a bit, making her moan and squirt, but it doesn't take long for your fingers to get replaced by your cock." "OH FUCK YEAH," she moans as she gets caught off guard, you fucking her hard from behind and making her scream as you start pounding her cunt under YoonA's watch, her cheeks getting clapped hard and her boobs jiggling like pinballs while YoonA licks them. "YEAH, YEAH, YEAH, FUCK ME, MORE, MORE, MORE," Seohyun begs as you pick up the speed and spank her ass and grope her tits as well. "GOD YES, FUCK ME," she keeps screaming. 
YoonA tastes your cock as you and Seohyun kiss each other. "Come here," you tell her, carry fucking the big tit maknae and sucking her tits while your cock stretches her pussy at full speed. You push her to the couch to the side of the pool, any fears of Yuri being able to hear it dissipating when you see how loud the sounds coming out of the kitchen are; she's too focused on making dinner now. You seize the opportunity and pound Seohyun in a hard missionary that makes her tits bounce even further, which quickly turns into a mating press as you get more and more determined to cum inside her like you did moments before to your wife. YoonA sucks her friend's tits as Seohyun gets nailed hard.
You're much more sensitive now, so it doesn't take long for you to explode again inside Seohyun's womb. "Hmmmm, my tits are gonna grow so much bigger when I get pregnant," she tells you with a sexy smirk. "I think YoonA wants that too," she says, cleaning your cock and sucking it to get it back hard for her friend. "I love how big those fucking tits are," YoonA says, sucking Seohyun's tits as the maknae warms your cock up for her.
Soon, YoonA is back sitting on your cock as you pound her from above. "Be a nasty fucking girl and lick that shaft," she orders Seohyun, but she decides not to follow her unnie and instead spanks YoonA's ass, which she enjoys a lot. "Fucking spank that ass," YoonA soon starts saying, and Seohyun quickly follows as she continues to bounce on your cock. You and YoonA go crazy, trying to outduel each other to see who can fuck the hardest. "Nasty boy, keep spanking that fucking ass," she says as she rides you. 
But as YoonA tries to push further, you deny her, carrying her body and pushing it against the wooden dinner table. This is where you will breed her. No nice couches like with Seohyun; that pretty bitch deserves it raw and hard for being such a slut from the second you met her. Another mating press ensues, this one even rougher as you climb on top of the table and manhandle YoonA's cunt. "Fuck that pussy, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," she begs as she spits on you, getting you even angrier as your cock bulges under her tummy. YoonA is now your dinner, her body smashing that table. It only takes a couple of minutes of such animalesque fucking to get you close to cum; well, that is until a familiar voice emerges out of the house.
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"Baby, I made some dinner for you g... Holy fuck," Yuri can't finish the sentence as she drops the food onto the ground. Your wife can't believe what she's seeing, rubbing her eyes as she watches you breed her hot friend in front of her. "I leave for half an hour, and you couldn't help but stick your dick in my friend?" an angry Yuri asks. "S-sorry, baby," you tell her, feeling very embarrassed.
"Well, the party is over, baby; I think I'll have to offer more for you to remain faithful to me; you got too addicted to my friends," Yuri says. "Let's try something for the first time," Yuri says, taking her bikini off and showing you her ass. "Are you ready to fuck me in the ass, baby boy?" she asks.
Yuri sucks your cock. "I can feel the smell of their pussies all over it," she says. Although Yuri planned the whole foursome thing, she was really angry, feeling like you had taken advantage of her goodwill. "Come here, girls; I want you to watch him fuck me hard in the ass," Yuri says, giving you a crazy deepthroat and biting your cock while doing so. "This is your punishment for being such a naughty boy," she says.
Yuri bends over as you start eating her ass, YoonA and Seohyun staying by her side. "She's got such a great tanned booty; look how good that bikini mark looks on her," Seohyun says. "Right there, ahhhhh," Yuri starts moaning as all three of you do some teamwork around her anus; you then finger her pussy while letting Seohyun and YoonA do the dirty anal work. "Yuri's got quite a nasty ass; it isn't like mine that smells like flowers. You should try it one day, by the way," YoonA says. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Yuri says, shutting her pretty friend down.
Indeed, you don't get ahead of yourself, taking on Yuri's pussy at first. "AHHHH FUCK, YEAH, YEAH," Yuri screams as you fuck her while playing with Seohyun's tits in your mouth. You grab her waist and clap her cheeks hard. "AHHHHHHH," she keeps screaming as you fuck her in a much rougher manner now, beating her ass like a drum as well. "You like that, bitch?" you ask her. "Yes, I love it; keep fucking me like that," Yuri demands.
After a little pussy warm-up, you shove your cock inside Yuri's loose butthole, mounting on top of her from the get-go. "Oh my God," you say as you destroy Yuri's asshole like a raging bull, YoonA and Seohyun adding to the pressure and spanking her friend's butt. You pound Yuri balls deep, showing no mercy for her anus and only taking some breaks for YoonA and Seohyun to lube your cock up with their mouths. Yuri's butthole queefs as she masturbates herself to cope with the heat you put in her ass. "Like this, like that," is all she can say as the roles are fully reversed, as you turn Yuri from a mommy so sure of herself to an anal fucktoy.
"AHHHH YESSS, MORE, MORE MORE," Yuri begs as her asshole gets destroyed balls deep, her gaping butthole getting larger and larger as you use it like it's only meant to be a cocksleeve, nothing else, as you're fully determined to make Yuri unable to walk or shit as you want to punish her asshole until it gets sore.
"Spread that fucking ass, bitch," you tell her, getting rougher and rougher. Yuri is no longer your lovely wife; now she's just a fuckhole for you to use and destroy. "Yeah, give it to me; fuck my ass harder," she commands, ready for more as you get very animalesque, giving her a lot of spankings and getting deeper and deeper while YoonA and Seohyun make life harder for her, stacking on top of Yuri. "AHHHHHHHH," Yuri keeps screaming as you grab her and thrust hard against her ass. "Fuck her, fuck her, fuck her." Meanwhile, Yoona and Seohyun cheer on, pushing you further.
You bring Yuri to the same wooden table you were breeding YoonA at moments ago and start worshipping your wife's pussy; she opens her legs as you lick and sniff her cunt, while YoonA and Seohyun also want to take a piece of it. Both girls then move up and kiss Yuri's sexy midriff, letting you take on her pussy all by yourself. Soon, your cock is back in your wife's ass, you grabbing Yuri's legs as she lets YoonA finger her clit. "I'm so fucking wet with that big cock in my ass and those hands all over my clit," she says. You use her pussy a bit as a little relief before going back to her asshole while YoonA and Seohyun spread her friend's clit, but soon, things are about to be even crazier.
You get on top of the table. At this point, you don't care if you are going to break it or not; you just want to fuck your wife in the ass as hard as possible, giving her an insane anal mating press that makes YoonA's and Seohyun's look easy. Yuri's back smashes the table as you press her hot body nonstop, her ass completely up in the air as your cock drills it balls deep. YoonA and Seohyun just watch now, letting you two have this moment by yourselves. It's been years since they last saw Yuri get pounded like that, probably not since the days SNSD was still fairly active. You switch between her pussy and ass, toying with your wife and using her like a fuckhole, enjoying watching her moan and scream like a dirty whore as you completely top Yuri.
"I think I'm gonna cum," you tell her. "Not yet, baby boy, I'll make you cum; you'll be a good boy for mommy," Yuri says, taking back control and getting on her knees to suck your cock for one final round. YoonA and Seohyun push her face against it and help suck it too while also slapping it on your wife's face. Yuri deepthroats you, almost making you blow it prematurely. "Don't cum now or I'll divorce you tomorrow," she threatens. YoonA and Seohyun seize the opportunity and perform deepthroats of their own; after all, if Yuri divorces you, then she won't hesitate to pounce on that big cock.
You sat on top of the table and pounded Yuri's ass like crazy. "Damn, you're such a fucking slut," you tell her. That motivates Yuri, as she quickly gains control of the ride and starts bouncing on your cock like crazy. "You're gonna cum for Mommy right now," she says, ramping up the speed and twerking on your cock. You try to hold as hard as you can, not wanting to give your wife such an easy win, but she keeps moving faster and faster. "AH, AH, AH, AH, AH, AH," she screams. 
"FUCK, YOU'RE SQUEEZING MY COCK SO HARD I'M GONNA..." This time you were the one who couldn't finish the sentence. If there is one thing Yuri can do to perfection, it is milking a cock using her sexy, tanned ass. And you, as just another young guy, couldn't resist her mommy moves, filling her asshole to the brim for your fourth and final load of the night. She had drained your balls to the fullest. You didn't even know what to do anymore. What started as a calm vacation in Jeju had ended with you lost in the turbulent waters of a Bermuda Triangle of beautiful mommies that had milked you completely dry. 
"I love you, hubby; your cock is amazing. Hope you have more in the tank for later tonight," Yuri said as she left, getting ready to take a shower. YoonA and Seohyun follow suit, leaving you contemplating the stars and finally thinking to yourself that you had won in life after so many failures before.
And things were only going to get better.
The three girls were taking their shower together. As they talked about all the sex they had during the night, YoonA asked Yuri a question.
"Can your baby boy be my secret husband too?"
"I want him as well," Seohyun followed.
"Hmmm, I'll think about it," Yuri says.
"We are taking it as a yes," YoonA finished. "My birthday is in around six months; I want him for that weekend," she finished.
753 notes · View notes
finelinevogue · 6 months ago
Text
something in the orange
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summary - you are harry’s ex and you happen to rekindle at his sisters wedding
word count - ~2k
pairing - ex-boyfriend!harry x reader
🌞✨🌟🌞✨🌟🌞✨🌟🌞✨🌟🌞✨🌟🌞
It wasn’t a complete surprise that your ex-boyfriend was at his sisters wedding, but nonetheless you were still shocked to see him.
You had been friends with Gemma, your exes sister, way before you were dating her brother, Harry, which is probably the main and only reason you had been invited to her wedding.
Gemma and her family were still very nice towards you, even though you broke their Harry’s heart.
Well for the most part.
You had been sat on a table at the back of the reception room for the evening meal, with a couple of distant friends of the groom. You had been trying to make small talk as best you could, but your little introverted heart could only try so hard.
“Are you staying in Italy after the wedding?” You asked a man called Gordon who was sat next to you, with his girlfriend.
“No.”
He then went back to talking to his girlfriend.
You took a sip of your mocktail, glancing around the room to enjoy the happiness of others.
Gemma was happily chatting with Michal, her now husband, whilst Anne, Gemma’s mum, was arguing with one of the chefs that the cake had to be ready in ten minutes. It was quite funny to watch Anne get angry, considering she’s the loveliest person on the planet.
You noticed Harry, of course you did.
He hadn’t looked your way once, or if he had he’d been so discreet about it that he was making you feel invisible.
You didn’t blame him for keeping his distance, after all you had broken his heart. It was a surprise you had even been invited, but friends first and all that.
He looked good.
He looked better than good, he looked ridiculously pretty.
Harry was dressed in a black tuxedo with a bow tie that had now been untucked and was loosely hanging around his neck. He looked tanned and well. He looked happy, you thought.
You turned to a girl next to you and tried to start conversation with her.
“How are you enjoying the Amalfi Coast?” You smiled.
“It’s nice.” She smiled back before turning to speak to whoever was next you.
It wasn’t particularly nice having the people on your table kind of ignore you, but then again they didn’t know you and had no reason to get to know you.
You ate your meal in silence as you simple people watched.
It was nice seeing familiar faces, even if yours was one they’d rather not see.
Once you had finished, people had started to get up to go and dance on the little dance floor on the terrace. It was laden with fairy lights strung high above, along with an abundance of citronella candles that casted a warm orange glow over the area.
You watched as some couples slow danced. A little girl had a dance competition with her dad. Gemma and Michal busted whatever shapes they were doing.
“Have you finished, ma’am?” A waiter asked you, breaking you away from watching the evening continue without you.
“Oh yes. Thank you, it was really lovely.”
“Our pleasure.” They smiled at you, before cleaning up.
You fiddled with your fingers as you watched more and more people get up on the dance floor to enjoy their evening.
You pushed your chair back then, deciding to go to the toilet before you made the decision whether or not to join people out on the terrace.
The wedding location was gorgeous.
A beautiful historical hotel, overrun with flowers cascading down the stone walls, that was built into the cliffside along the Amalfi Coast.
It was no surprise that the wedding was here, considering Gemma and Harry called Southern Italy their second home. Harry had taken you to his house in Maiori multiple times when you had been together and you completely understood why he loved this area.
You missed going to that house. The crazy adventures you’d get up to.
You missed Harry.
You locked yourself in a cubicle before you could make yourself upset over it.
You’d just finished up when you heard some people walk in.
“Did you see Y/Ns here?” They said, but you couldn’t work out who they were - at least it wasn’t someone you recognised.
“Yeah. Wonder why.” You didn’t recognise the second persons voice either.
“Fucking ballsy if you ask me.” They both laughed. “If I’d cheated on my best-friends brother and still been invited to her wedding, I wouldn’t go.”
“Did Y/N cheat on Harry? I heard that she had a mental breakdown when he stopped buying stuff for her and stopped taking her on expensive holidays.”
You sat down on the toilet lid, not finding the courage to go out there and speak up for yourself.
“No. Pretty sure she cheated. Doesn’t surprise me though, she always was a little bit… different.”
“You mean, not model worthy?!” They both laughed again.
You carefully and silently ripped off some toilet paper before using it to dab the tears that were falling from your eyes and down your cheeks.
It was tough, trying to not take things to heart but you were a sensitive person. This didn’t make you a bad person, in fact it just meant that you carried extra love around with you.
It hurt when other people couldn’t see that when you tried to live with your heart on your sleeve as much as you could.
“God… Wonder why she came?”
“Probably to prove that she’s not the bitch everyone thinks she is.”
“Yeah.”
“Harry hasn’t even spoken to her.”
“Weren’t they together for like five years.”
6 years and 3 months, you thought to yourself.
Best 6 years and 3 months of your life.
“Something like that.”
“Poor Harry.”
“Yeah. Must’ve been rough for him.”
“Means he is single though.”
“Wonder whether he’s ready to mingle.” They both laughed again, before leaving the toilets discussing their plan to make Harry see them.
You finished dabbing your eyes free of tears, breathing out a heavy breath before standing up and heading to the sinks to freshen up.
You patted your cheeks with water to cool you down and looked at yourself in the mirror with a smile.
You are okay. You thought to yourself. You know what they said isn’t true. You are a good person.
Once you’d collected yourself, you left the bathroom.
If you headed right you would find yourself back in the main room heading towards the terrace, but it you went left it would lead you to some stone steps carved into the cliff wall that lead down to a private beach.
Of course you headed left.
The night sky was burning a deep orange from where the sun was setting. You couldn’t wait for the stars. Stargazing had always been yours and Harry’s favourite pastime - it grounded you whilst simultaneously reminding you how grateful that you’d found each other in all of this.
The stairs were easy to walk down, even in wedge sandals.
It took you a good fifteen minutes to climb down, but the second your toes felt the cooling sand you knew it had been worth it. Would it be worth the climb back up? Hmm…
You crossed the beach, smiling when you realised you were the only one down here in this small alcove of a beach.
The waves moved in slowly, making that euphoric crashing sound as they folded over and onto the sand.
The water was turning a darker blue under the setting sun, but you knew in the daytime it would be a crystal clear blue - perfect for swimming or snorkelling.
You sat on the beach, toeing off your sandals and resting them beside you.
You pulled your knees up to your chin, hugging your arms around your legs as you sat and watched the waves crash again and again. There was something so therapeutic about it.
As you watched on you couldn’t help but think back to the conversation those girls were having in the toilet.
You didn’t realise what people thought about you being your back. It stung to think people were thinking such horrible things.
The moment your eyes started watering again you knew that what they’d been saying about you hadn’t really registered until now - in the quiet on your own. It hadn’t fully clicked that everyone now perceived you as this horrible, bitch of a woman that broke the heart of a man who is loved by millions.
You sniffled, looking up at the sky to hold back the onrush of any more tears.
“Here.”
“Holy fucking….” You scrambled from where you were sitting and jumped up to find Harry standing beside you, “Harry… My…”
You put your hand over your heart, having been scared shitless from him unintentionally creeping up on you.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jump.”
You then realised he was still holding out his handkerchief for you - the one you thought had been pretend from his suit pocket.
“It’s okay, thank you.” You took this handkerchief and wiped under your eyes with it, dabbing your nose too. “I didn’t realise you were down here, sorry. I’ll leave.”
You bent down to pick up your shoes, but were stopped when Harry gently bent his wrist around yours.
“Please don’t.”
You felt like you had stopped breathing.
Harry’s soft touch against your skin nearly made your heart cave inside your chest. You felt like time had stopped, but you wouldn’t care if you only ever got to see Harry in this moment, in this frame, for ever and ever.
The way the setting sun casted a golden hew against his skin made him prettier than anyone Michelangelo could sculpt. His eyes were just as green and perfect as always, if only with a little extra sadness spreading at the corners.
And those lips.
Well you only wished they were still yours to kiss.
“I don’t…” You started, not moving your hand away from his. “You don’t want me here.” You whispered, tucking your head down.
You missed the way he shook his head softly, furrowing his eyebrows with frustration.
Harry stepped closer to you, making you apprehensively look up again. He was so pretty.
“Stop.”
“Stop what?”
“Stop thinking I don’t want you around. Stop thinking that I never want to see you again. Stop believing that you have done something wrong. Stop thinking that you aren’t still the most important person in my life.” Harry’s eyes were now tearing up.
You shook your head, pulling your hand from his carefully.
“I.. I can’t.. sorry.”
“Y/N…”
You were about to run across the beach, away from Harry when his call stopped you.
“Y/N, no.”
Your feet froze and you turned around slowly to see him standing in place, ever so slightly shaking his head.
“Just no.” He said.
“I… I don’t understand.” You said.
“The last time you ran away, I let you.” Harry said, as you tried to refrain from thinking back to the last time it had been like this.
“I know.”
“Well, I’m not about to make that mistake again.”
Your eyebrows furrowed at that, bottom lip pouting which Harry always used to tease you about.
You stood still, your breath catching when he started moving towards you. You couldn’t move. You were frozen to the spot, like some force of nature wasn’t allowing you to move.
“The last time I let you walk out of my life was the biggest mistake I ever made. I should’ve tried harder - I should’ve begged you to stay, God knows I wanted you to.”
“Harry, please don’t say things you don’t mean…”
“What don’t you get, Y/N/N?” Harry stopped short of you, confused about how you couldn’t quite grasp what he was trying to tell you.
“You don’t want me to stay.”
“What—.”
“You don’t need me to stay.”
“Y/N…”
“No, H, listen to me.” You confidently took a step forwards towards him, still leaving a good enough space between you. “I can’t put you through another breakup like that again.. I… I don’t even think either of us have properly gotten over the last one. I meant what I said and did last time and I still mean it now.”
“Well fuck that. You don’t get to say things like that.”
“Harry…”
“No. Fuck!” Harry shouted, combing a hand through his hair like he did when he was stressed. “Do you understand how much you hurt me?”
You weren’t expecting him to ask you that, so you took a tiny step back in shock. You bravely answered, “Yes.”
“And do you know why?” His eyes were watering now.
“Yes.”
“So tell me.”
“Har—.”
“Just.. humour me and tell me.”
“You were hurt because I broke up with you. You were hurt because I gave up on over six years. You were hurt because I was cruel.”
Your voice was shaky but you stood strong, not wanting to guilt trip Harry into feeling sorry for you.
“No.” He replied. “No. I was hurt because the woman I love, the woman I was only weeks away from getting down on one knee for, broke up with me because she decided she wasn’t worth me loving. Not that she didn’t love me anymore, no, but because she felt unworthy of my love.”
Your eyes started free flowing with tears then as you stood and listened to him speak. Everything he was saying was true but it didn’t make it any more comfortable to hear back.
“I was hurt because I thought we could talk about things like that before the progressed into something we could never come back from. I was hurt because you chose to listen to all the sick and twisted voiced in your head, rather than the one voice that actually mattered; mine. I was hurt because you didn’t communicate. I had to find out from my sister that you were being abused online by, not only my fans, but close girl friends of mine over their jealousy. And I had to find out from my mum that yours had passed away a few weeks before you broke up with me.”
You let out a sob then, everything crashing around in your mind. Too many thoughts and too little left of you to put them all back together.
“Y/N, love, I was hurt because I was there for you when you didn’t believe I could be.”
“I’m sorry.” You sobbed out before your knees gave way and you dropped onto the beach beneath you, crying your what was left of your heart out.
Everything from your breakup, to the hate and losing your mum, the grief had all been collecting inside of your head and it was only now that you felt safe enough to let it all go.
You caved in on yourself, cupping your hands over your face.
It only took a couple of seconds for Harry to collapse onto the floor beside you, scooping your body up in his arms so he could pull you close into his chest. Your chest heaved as you cried, and you could only just hear Harry calming you down with a few ‘sshh’ and the occasional kiss to your forehead.
You kept repeating ‘I’m sorry’ over and over again, not really knowing who you were apologising to.
Harry? Your mum? Yourself?
“Sshh. You’re okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe.” Harry kept repeating in between your apologies.
You let Harry hold you for what felt like hours, but was actually only five minutes, before you had calmed yourself down and you could breathe again.
You emerged from Harry’s hold and gave him a weak smile.
“Probably look like a right state after crying.” You laughed at yourself.
Harry cupped your cheek with his hand and softly ran his thumb there. “Still as pretty as the day I met you.”
“H, you met me when we were less than a year old. You don’t remember that.” You stifled a laugh.
“I don’t remember much, but I remember you.”
You dipped your head with a blush as he said that, his words still having that charming effect on you.
Harry dropped his hand from your cheek, but you were quick to hold it again with yours. You threaded your fingers through his and gave a tight squeeze. He squeezed back.
“I am really sorry, Harry.”
“I know.”
“I have a lot to be sorry for and I’ll find the strength to write you a list of them all one day.” You promised.
“Maybe we can write them together? Perhaps in a couples therapy?”
Your head shot up to meet his at the hearing of the word ‘couples’.
“You want…”
“I want you to be mine again. I may be selfish but screw it, I’m taking this chance to ask you whether, with the right help maybe, we could become us again?”
“Are you sure?” You moved closer to him, knees touching knees.
Here on this little beach, tucked away from the crowds of the party and the rest of the world you felt everything was right again. Almost like a haze had been lifted and you could see clearer now more than even what you wanted - who you wanted.
“Trust me.”
“I do. I promise, I do.”
“Maybe it’ll take some time, but I promise to be there for you, always, and take care of you like I promised your mum all those years ago.”
“You’ve always taken care of me, H. My mum would be proud of you.”
“Like she’s proud of you, too.”
“Don’t make me cry again.” You whispered, eyes locked on his so you could focus on something else other than the tears that wanted to spill.
“So was that a yes? Do you want to try again?”
“Ask me properly.” You leaned closer.
“Y/N L/N.” He said with a smirk.
“Yes.”
“Will you be my girlfriend… again?”
You burst out laughing over that, dropping your head onto his shoulder to hide your blushing face from his.
You smiled to yourself before answering.
“Yes,” You kissed his neck before sitting back up again, “Yes, yes, yes.”
And with the smile on Harry’s face as you gave him your answer you knew that you would be alright this time.
There was just something in the orange of that burning Italian sunset that told you, you and Harry were far from done. In fact, you’d only just started.
2K notes · View notes
planetaryupscaled · 2 months ago
Text
Everything's Fine if You Pretend
Male Reader x Danielle
Tags: 28k, smut, first time, creampie, oral
The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.
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“I’m sorry, what?”
Danielle cocked her head with the same impish grin she always wore.
“She’s uh, asking if you would like to come to the wedding.”
“Why?” She almost seemed cocky—oh she always did.
“Because you’re a friend.” I said, stepping over the curb as we crossed the street. “She likes you more than me.”
“Your sister wants me to be her plus-one? Seems a little weird.”
“My plus-one, actually.” I managed. “She’s forcing me to take somebody and she wants it to be you.”
Danielle smirked. “Why me? Surely if she wants you to take somebody, you can just ask one of your pals to take to a boring wedding.”
“You’re really going to make me say it, aren’t you?”
Her knowing grin could light up the sky. “Absolutely. So, I ask again, why does it have to be me?”
The sigh that escaped my lips was filled with a mixture of defeat and deep embarrassment. “Because she thinks we’re dating.”
“There it is!” Danielle laughed loudly as we approached the roundabout.
“It’s not what you think! They wouldn’t stop bugging me about trying to find a girlfriend. ‘Girlfriend’ this, ‘girlfriend’ that and ‘how come you are twenty and still single?’ Ugh. It’s exhausting.”
“They?”
“Who else do you think? my parents, my sister.”
Danielle crossed her arms over her chest and playfully nudged me with her shoulder. “So, your first instinct was to lie and say that I was your girlfriend?”
“Well, I tried a few times, but it never worked out. Since they wouldn’t shut up about it, I figured the best course of action was to say that we were dating just to get them off my back.”
“Okay then, new question. How long have we been dating, sweetie?”
“I told them last November.”
Danielle’s eyes widened and her mouth was held agape in a smile of mock disbelief. “No way, we’ve been dating for a year and you haven’t told me?”
“We aren’t dating!”
“Hmm. It’s a wonder you haven’t proposed...”
“Danielle! We. Aren’t. Dating.”
“Well, apparently we are, since that must be the reason why your mom invited me to join at every holiday dinner since last year, and why my parents let me.”
“Wait, what?”
“We’re neighbours, you dummy! You think our parents don’t talk with each other? The day you told your mom we were dating, she told my parents, who asked me about it. I just played along.”
“You knew this entire time and said nothing? What was with the entire conversation up to this point?”
She grinned and leaned her head over my shoulder. “Do you have any idea how fun it is? You get all red and you tuck your head like a turtle.”
I pushed her off, but returned her smile. “You such a … “
“Hey now, you are the one who lied. I’m just having some fun with the consequences. So, what about this wedding?”
I sighed. “All you have to do is say that you can’t make it. Just say that you have to go visit a family or something.”
“Why do I have to do it?”
“Because she won’t believe me. If she hears it from you, then she will.”
“Why not just tell her the truth that we aren’t actually a couple?”
“And admit that I lied for almost a year? Pass.”
Danielle stretched her arms above her head and leaned back, which helped to accentuate her figure. One of the consequences to growing up with a female best friend was watching her develop into a beautiful young woman. She was slender but toned thanks to her years of being in cheerleader. Her body was shaped well underneath her light grey hoodie and black skinny jeans, with gentle curves and supple breasts. They were small but seemed to be fairly well shaped.
Did I have a crush on her? I used to.
Did she know that? Absolutely.
Did she seem to care? Not at all.
-
“Why not lie and tell that we broke up?”
“They like you too much. I think that might actually kill them.”
Danielle rolled her eyes. “You know this charade is going to meet an ugly end eventually, right? The longer it goes on, the worse it’s going to be when they peek behind the curtain.”
“I’ll burn that bridge when I get to it. For now, can you just tell her that you can’t make it to the wedding?” I pleaded. Danielle sighed as we turned the corner on the sidewalk and began walking up the driveway to my house.
“Fine. But you owe me. Anything else I need to know?”
“She was thinking about inviting you out for breakfast tomorrow. Again, all you need to do is say you already have plans.”
Danielle frowned. “You know I’ll be cashing in these favours sooner rather than later, right?”
I laxed in relief and unlocked the front door. “I’ll take whatever I can get. Just... please.”
-
My sister called out the moment the door opened. “How was the movie?”
Before I had a chance to open my mouth, Danielle chirped up with a wicked smile. “It was great, Unnie!”
My sister almost sprinted around the corner, and I could only hold my head in shame. “Danielle!” my sister cried gleefully and pulling her into a tight hug, her eyes glared daggers at me.
“Why don’t you go get her a drink?”
“Diet coke please, sweetie.” Danielle grinned.
I had to keep from cursing under my breath as I kicked off my shoes and stepped towards the kitchen. Over my shoulder, I could tell my sister lowered her voice as she quietly spoke to Danielle, but she was still so excited that I could easily hear them both.
“Sweetie? That’s new.”
I swear, I could see the grin on Danielle’s face even around the corner.
“Yeah, we kept it really casual for a while, but we talked and we’re ready to start taking things a bit more seriously. He’s actually taking me out for brunch tomorrow.”
I winced, but removed the requested drink from the fridge. Really? Her choice for alternate plans was a date?
“Oh really? we planned on having breakfast tomorrow. He never said anything about a date.”
“Oh, well if you two have plans, then we can easily reschedule...”
“Nonsense! You two enjoy your date. Has he told you about the wedding?”
I could see Danielle’s feigned curiosity when I stepped back into the room.
“What wedding?”
The death glares my sister gave made me silently vow to slap Danielle.
“I’ve been telling you to ask her for weeks.”
“Noona, I just…” she cut me off by turning back to face Danielle.
“We are going to a relative’s wedding in Jeju the day after tomorrow. I know this is extremely last minute...” Her dagger-like stare made a bead of sweat form on the back of my neck. “...but I was wondering if you wanted to come with us?”
Danielle tilted her head like she was remembering something. That, or dumping the bullshit out of her ears.
“Right, my parents mentioned that you two were gonna be gone for a few days. They never said anything about me coming with you, though.”
“Well, I wanted HIM to be the one to ask you, but obviously he still hasn’t after a month. You’d think that he would care at least a little bit.”
“Noona...” I fumbled for a lie that seemed more appropriate than ‘I didn’t ask her because we’re not dating’. “…I figured she wouldn’t enjoy it. It’s just a wedding, and I don’t want to force her to do something she’ll hate.”
I passed Danielle her drink. Unfortunately, my sister seemed intent on winning this battle. “That is her choice to make, not yours. Ask her.”
A sigh escaped my lips while I looked between the two women. One glaring like she was going to beat me with the business end of a flip-flop, and the other trying her hardest to keep from laughing out loud.
“Would you like to come to Jeju with me for the wedding?” Danielle’s smile dripped with her classic impish charm.
“I would love to.”
-
When the door was carefully closed, I turned back to Danielle who made herself comfortable sitting on the edge of my bed while sipping her drink.
“Dan, what the fuck?”
She chuckled. “What? Did I do something wrong?”
“All you had to do was say you had plans, and then you wouldn’t need to come to this wedding.”
“I don’t have plans, and I want to come.”
“You do?”
Danielle set her can on my nightstand and lied back on the bed, spreading her arms out towards either side like she was trying to make half a snow angel in the wrinkles of my comforter.
“Yeah. I don’t have anything to do, and this genuinely sounds like it will be fun. Three days in Jeju? Count me in.”
“You do realize we’re going to have to pretend the entire trip, right?”
“That’s what’s gonna make it fun.”
“You’re an ass.” I smiled and sat down on the bed, looking down at her.
“Again, I’m just enjoying the consequences of your actions.”
A moment of silence passed. I scratched the side of my face.
“Did you have to use a date as your way out of breakfast tomorrow?”
Danielle propped herself up on her elbows and grinned. “Hey, it gets you out of having to have breakfast with her too.”
“Okay, good point. But brunch? Really?”
“It’s the first thing that came to mind.”
“I thought only old people called it brunch.”
“You can call it whatever you want!”
“Late breakfast.”
“Fine.”
“Early lunch.”
“Sure.”
“Very early dinner.”
Danielle pursed her lips. “Are you done?”
“Midnight snack?”
She sighed. “Okay, this conversation isn’t going anywhere. Tomorrow, I’ll come over at ten, and then we can head out. What do you wanna do? Another movie?”
“Huh? I thought we were going to eat.”
“We don’t have to, dumbass!” Danielle laughed. “I just said that to get both of us out of breakfast. As long as we leave and stay gone for an hour or two, it doesn’t matter what we do. So, what do you want to do tomorrow?”
“I don’t know, what do you want?”
“Hmm, it’s like talking to a brick wall, except a wall is usually more decisive.” She said, rolling her eyes.
“Fuck. You.”
“That’s the plan.” she smirked. “You know, since we’re dating now, and that’s what couples do, but we’re gonna need to be quiet since your sister is right downstairs.”
“Dan...”
“No, actually, I’m supposed to be the one calling your name.”
“Danielle!”
-
As it turned out, late breakfast was exactly what we did. Danielle sat across from me in the booth, slowly picking away at her Bibimbap while I chowed down on my Bulgoki. As usual, we were both dressed in our hoodies and jeans like a pair of mannequins. But, something was different about Danielle. It was subtle.
“Are you wearing makeup?” I asked, and she batted her eyes.
“Just a bit of foundation. Why, see something you like?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear makeup. I’m surprised.”
“Well, if we’re going to a wedding tomorrow, then I need some practice.”
“During early lunch...”
Danielle rolled her eyes. “Well, a girl needs makeup for a date.”
“This isn’t a date.” I sighed.
“Yeah, but your sister thinks so, and that’s what matters.”
“There is no way she saw that you were wearing makeup.”
Danielle took another forkful and chuckled. “She noticed the moment I walked in the door.”
“I doubt that.”
“Hey, don’t get mad because it took you half an hour to see it.”
“Yeah, but you were only in the house for like, fifteen seconds!”
“And during that time, she commented about it and said that I did a good job.”
“When?”
“When you went back upstairs to grab your hoodie.” Danielle said, matter-of-factly.
“You’re pulling my leg.”
“Am not. Here, look at that couple over there.” Danielle pointed her gaze and I followed it to a pair that was sitting at a table towards the middle of the room. Why they weren’t at one of the many open booths near the windows, I didn’t know.
“What do you see about them?” Danielle asked.
“Well, a guy and a girl. They’re having a very early dinner together.”
“You’re never going to call it brunch, are you?”
“Not on your life.”
Danielle sighed. “Fine. The girl. Is she wearing makeup?”
I turned my attention away from guy, and towards his companion. From this distance though, I couldn’t make any confirmations on whether she was wearing makeup. She looked completely natural.
“No.”
Danielle made a quiet noise like a buzzer for an incorrect answer. “It’s subtle, but lipstick at the very least. If I had to guess, I would also say a bit of a touch of foundation.”
“How can you tell?”
“Because I can. Now, about more serious matters,” Danielle turned back to me, but I kept my gaze fixed on the couple. The restaurant was quiet, and I could faintly overhear the boy talking, even though his voice was lowered.
“Hey! You there?”
“Huh?” My attention was torn back to Danielle, who was staring with an amused expression.
“Did you hear anything I asked?”
“Uh, yeah?”
“You— I asked what the plan was for the wedding.”
I faltered. “We’re... pretending to be a couple?”
Danielle rolled her eyes so wide it must have hurt.
“That’s already been established! I’m asking when are we leaving? How are we travelling? What are we doing when we���re at Jeju? What’s the plan for the hotel? What time is the wedding? When are we coming back?”
I winced at the assault of questions. “Okay, okay, I get it.” I took a deep breath.
“As far as I know, we’re driving down to Jeju, and we’re leaving at noon tomorrow. Knowing my sister, we’ll actually end up leaving at eleven, and she would want you to be packed and at our house by nine thirty. When we’re at Jeju, we’re going to check into the hotel and hang out there until dinner, and then we’re going to Cheonjiyeon Waterfalls.”
“Sounds romantic.” Danielle joked. I ignored the red in my cheeks.
“Anyway, then we go back to the hotel and in the morning, we get ready for the reception. It starts at one, everyone is there by noon, she’ll makes us be there for ten, you know the drill. The wedding ends after dinner, we stay at the hotel again, then head home in the morning.”
“Alright, but that still leaves one question.”
“What’s that?”
“The hotel.” Danielle raised her eyebrows like I should know what she was implying.
“What about the hotel?”
Danielle’s eyebrows dropped to an annoyed glare. “How many rooms, dummy? Are the three of us staying in the same room?”
“Uh, no.” I said quickly. It was difficult to meet her eyes. “Two rooms. One for her, and the other for us two.”
“Okay, so we’ll have to be quiet when we have sex if your sister is in the next room.”
I decided not to speak, and buried my face into my bulgoki. It tasted great just a minute ago, but now it tasted like shame. Danielle just smirked and pressed her opening.
“Who knows, maybe while you’re railing me, she’ll be able to hear us on the other side of the wall.”
Danielle had always been... blunt, but this vulgarity was new. Hearing her talk like that made all the blood in my body rush to my face. Well, that, and one other place.
“Dan! What’s wrong with you?”
She holds up her hands defensively, like I was the one crossing the line.
“Hey, if we’re dating, your sister expects us to be having sex.”
“Again, we’re just pretending. And it’s only for three days!”
“What about when we get back? What’s your brilliant scheme then?”
I winced into the few bites left of my bulgoki. “I don’t know. I’ll think of something.”
Danielle polished off the last of her bibimbap and grinned. “Well, you better think quickly. You done eating?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. I’m gonna go to the washroom, you can pay, and then we’ll head out.”
“Wait, why do I have to pay?” I protested.
“Because I know that your sister slipped you some money. I’ll be right back!”
Danielle left the table, and I took one last bite before signalling the waiter. Meanwhile, I tried to calm down the erection that had formed in my pants. I really didn’t need her to see it when I stood up to leave. Why was she being so care-free now godamit.
Did she like the idea of us being together? No, absolutely not. She expressed a long time ago that she didn’t see me that way, when I had the guts to confess to her in six grade. We barely talked for months afterwards. Now, she was just taking the opportunity of my stupid lie to torment me. There wasn’t any point in getting hung up on something that was never going to happen.
-
It was a few minutes before Danielle returned, and I gave her an exhausted smile. Her cheeks were red when she looked at me, and she almost looked shy when she sat down. I raised an eyebrow.
“What, did you fall in or something?”
Danielle shook her head. “No. You didn’t check your phone?”
“I left it at home. Oh god, what kind of horrible memes did you send me this time?”
Danielle paused. “Uh, you’ll see.”
“Great. I can’t wait to get home and question your sanity. Let’s go.”
-
Aside from Danielle stopping to play with a small terrier being walked by an older man, our stroll back was uneventful. Danielle returned to her house as I stepped into mine. I wasn’t surprised when I immediately heard my sister walk out of the living room.
“How was your date?” She called.
“Good.”
“Did you tell her about…”
She rounded the corner, and I cut her off. “Yes, I told her about the plans, what time we’re leaving, and everything else. Don’t worry.”
She didn’t look satisfied yet. “Did you pay with the money I gave you?”
“Noona, I would have paid even if you didn’t give me money.”
“Well, I’m sorry for worrying. Danielle’s a good one.”
“You don’t need to worry about it. Everything’s under control.”
The slight wrinkles in her face deepened.
“Do you really love Danielle?”
Sucker punch to the gut.
“Uh... what?”
“I’m just asking, because it seems like things aren’t going very well. You two obviously brought your relationship to the next level, but it doesn’t seem like you’re happy. Danielle is, but you aren’t.”
“Why do you ask?” I said cautiously.
She frowned. “You two have been dating for over a year, but I’ve never even seen you hug each other, much less anything else. I understand keeping things casual, but intentionally not inviting her to the wedding? Why do you not want her to come?”
I stammered. “Because... I don’t think she would enjoy it. There won’t be anyone she knows there, and...” My voice faltered. She sighs.
“If things are going badly between you two, all you have to do is tell me. I can help, you know.”
“Everything’s fine, Noona. I promise.”
She just got a sad look in her eyes and turned away. “I really wish you wouldn’t lie to me. I don’t want you to lose the best woman you’re ever going to find.”
“Well, I’m gonna go upstairs.”
“You left your phone in the kitchen.” She offered flatly. “Danielle sent some... interesting pictures.”
I winced.
“They’re called memes. Don’t worry, Danielle doesn’t actually mean those things.”
“Uh-huh.” Was her only reply while I grabbed my phone. I didn’t look at the screen until I was halfway up the stairs. At that point, my jaw dropped and I almost tripped. I could only manage to stumble up the rest of the steps and shut myself in my room before looking closer at the four pictures.
Only one was the horrible meme I expected. Instead, my gaze was affixed on the other three pictures.
They were photos, obviously taken in a public washroom.
Photos of Danielle.
The first was a classic selfie using the washroom mirror, but Danielle wasn’t wearing her hoodie. Her hand not holding the phone had her shirt pulled up to her chin, revealing her lack of a bra.
Fuck.
From her slender, smooth stomach all the way up to her navel, her skin was the same flawless shade of pale ivory as it wrapped around and under her supple breasts. They were perhaps a single handful each, with delicate skin and perfect, small, perky nipples in the center of each mass.
Danielle’s cheeks were red, but her smile couldn’t have been brighter.
The second photo was similar to the first, in the sense that the photo was looking into the reflection of the mirror. This time, Danielle’s shirt was removed altogether, but she was facing away so I could only see her soft back and a hint of sideboob. She grinned over her shoulder, and her other hand had her jeans and panties pulled down below the cheeks of her rear end, showing her small yet pert, bare and flawless ass. It was clear even in the soft shading of her bottom.
I knew I should have looked away—it was wrong for me to be looking at these pictures, much less staring at them. Surely, she sent them to the wrong person. Either that, or she had sent the wrong photos altogether. Either way, my lower appendage was as hard as granite and made my jeans very uncomfortable, very quickly.
The last picture made my throat catch. She was sitting on the floor of the washroom, using her hoodie like a towel underneath her. Her hand held the phone in between her legs, looking back up at her. The only thing she wore was a smile.
Her legs were spread, her other hand was placed on the smooth, hairless patch of skin in between her thighs. Because of that, the view of her lower lips was very obscured, but no less erotic. Only her thumb, forefinger and pinky were visible. I could take a wild guess as to where the other two fingers were.
I don’t know how long I stared at the pictures of my best friend, completely slack-jawed. I mean, sure, I’ve thought about what Danielle looked like naked. Every straight guy with a female friend has done the same. Still, I never expected to get proven so wrong. Every part of her was somehow better than the mental image my mind had conjured. It was different, yes, but definitely better.
Her breasts looked slightly different than I imagined, but they fit much better proportionally. Her ass was pert, years of cheerleader made it toned and smooth like two perfect globes.
Her pussy was clean shaven instead of having a small patch as I expected. However, the lack of hair simply let all of the attention be directed towards the beautiful flower being spread open by a pair of delving fingers.
Somehow, I fumbled around enough to sit down on the edge of my bed and start a video call. After undoing the button on my jeans and letting the bulge in my boxers have a bit more room to breathe, of course.
Danielle answered before the first ring finished. Her hoodie was discarded, leaving her in just her t-shirt. In my mind’s eye, I could still see it bunched up underneath her chin and showing her shapely breasts. Danielle still had the same smile from the photos.
“Calling so soon after the date? A girl would think you’re needy. I take it you liked my meme?”
“I uh... I think you might have sent me the wrong pictures.”
“Oh no.” Danielle frowned. “What pictures did I send?”
“Uh, there was um... they were photos of you.”
“Of me?” Danielle raised an amused eyebrow.
“Yeah.” I confirmed. “With... without clothes.”
Danielle grinned. “Why are you so awkward?”
“Huh?”
“I meant to send those. That’s what I was doing in the washroom before we left.”
I floundered. “So, you mean that…”
“While you were paying, I was taking... an artistic photo of mine, and sending them to you. It’s a shame you left your phone at home. I would have loved to see you get so embarrassed in public.”
“Why?”
Danielle giggled and laid back. I could tell that like me, she had been sitting on the edge of her bed, but had now lied down and was holding her phone in the air above her face. Her hair fanned out around her head like a halo.
“Because couples send each other nudes, dummy! If we’re gonna pretend to be a couple, it would be a lot more convincing if you have a few pictures of me on your phone. I can send some more, if you want…”
“No!” I said quickly. Danielle’s grin faded, and I took a breath.
“Dan, my sister saw those pictures.”
Her smile returned, but it seemed like it was only halfway there. “Good.”
“How is that good?!”
“Because,” said Danielle, “…that should help to convince her that we’re dating. Otherwise, why would I be sending you nudes? Speaking of which, how did she even see them? Don’t you have a lock on your phone?”
“No.”
“Why not? Aren’t you worried about random people going through your stuff?”
“How would they do that? I keep my phone on me all the time.”
Danielle just stared, unimpressed. “You have your phone at all times, huh?”
“Okay…” I relented. “I left it at home a few times, but my sister is the only person who’ll see it, and she’s not much for snooping.”
“And it’s because she doesn’t snoop that she saw a picture of me fingering myself?”
I swallowed my tongue along with the rest of my argument. Danielle had a point. She must have seen her victory, since her eyes twinkled.
“If you want to make my tits your home screen, I’ll just ask that you put a password first. I think one look at my goodies is enough for your sister.”
In the small image of myself in the lower corner of the screen, I could see the red on my cheeks. After a moment of silence, Danielle chuckled.
“What did she think?”
“What do you mean?”
“Did she make any comments about the pictures or anything?”
I shook my head. “Uh, no. She just said that you sent some interesting pictures, and that was it.”
The gap between Danielle’s eyebrows narrowed. “I know your sister, and that seems strangely vague for her.”
“I think...” The words struggled to form proper sentences. “…I think it’s because she doesn’t entirely believe us.”
“She doesn’t think we’re dating?”
“No, I think it’s more along the lines of her believing that we’re dating a little too much.”
Danielle looked confused. “Okay, you’re gonna have to walk me through this one because you aren’t making sense.”
I let out a sigh. “Think of it from her point of view. We’ve been ‘dating’ for a year, but absolutely nothing has changed. We still act the same way we always have—as best friends and neighbours. Now, I was so reluctant to invite you to the wedding.”
Danielle waited after I finished my sentence. Several seconds passed before she lifted her hand and made a keep going movement. “Come on, you gotta give me a little more here. Instead of beating around the bush, just say what’s the problem.”
“From what I understand, she fully believes that we’re dating, but also thinks that we’re having some problems and are on the verge of breaking up.”
Danielle frowned. “I literally sent you a picture of my—and she thinks we’re gonna split? What kind of logic is that?”
I struggled to find the best way to put my thoughts into words. No matter what way I said it, it sounded odd.
“Actually, I think she believes that you’re in the relationship, but not me.”
“And how does that work?”
“I actively avoided inviting you to anything. Now you’re sending me nudes. I think she believes that I’m going to break up with you.”
“Oh.” Danielle looked genuinely speechless. I could usually tell what she was thinking at any given moment. Right now, she was an enigma. She risked a half-grin.
“It sounds like you should pick up the slack, make her believe.”
“And how am I supposed to do that? We’re not actually dating. I can’t just start making out with you in front of her.”
“Why not? I sent you nudes. Take the leap.”
“Wait, what?”
Danielle just gave a weak smile, her cheeks flushing with a tinge of pink. “I’ve gotta start packing. See you tomorrow.”
The last thing I saw before the call ended was Danielle giving a kiss towards the camera. I was stuck there, dumbfounded, and trying to wrap my head around what was happening.
-
Danielle was taking this ‘pretend couple’ thing way too far. The worst part was, I couldn’t even bring myself to be mad about it. She had made it clear a long time ago that she wasn’t interested—basically just told me to grow a pair and step up the act on our fake relationship.
Take the leap?
I shook my head, trying to force the thoughts away like they were insects that had crawled in my ears. No. I buried those fantasies years ago. I won’t let them dig their way out just because of an act. I fell in love with her a long time ago. If that happened again...
I wasn’t sure if there was any way to recover from that.
I opened our text messages again and tried not to stare at the nude selfies as I deleted them. Sadly, I couldn’t make them vanish from my mind as easily as they vanished from the screen.
As much as I tried to ignore it, Danielle was the only person on my mind.
-
We were planning to leave at noon. My sister decided to wake me up at six. I couldn’t really complain. I had my alarm set for six-thirty. Damn that woman and the curse of punctuality she bestowed upon me.
Sleeping was peaceful. I rarely had dreams, so it was just a time where nothing could bother me. No worries. No memories. No apprehensions. No fears. No regrets. Not even Danielle could break the veil. She had plagued my thoughts for over a dozen hours after the video chat. It was only when I finally managed to drift away from consciousness that my mind went quiet. It was wonderful.
Unfortunately, I had to wake up.
From my extra-hot shower, to brushing my teeth, to double-checking that I had everything packed, Danielle resided rent-free in the forefront of my mind. Most of the images in my head weren’t even the precious memories of her nude selfies. They were there, absolutely, but the images of her naked form were drowned among the flash of her smile, the sound of her laugh, and the twinkle in her eyes.
This weekend was going to be a nightmare.
It only got worse when Danielle showed up a quarter after nine. I answered the door, and was surprised by Danielle jumping forward and embracing me in a tight hug. Even through her hoodie, I could feel the curves of her body pressing against mine. Her hair was loose and draping down to her shoulders like a shimmering curtain. It smelled like strawberries. Her face was cradled on my chest, and I heard her whisper in my ear.
“Hug me back, idiot.”
I hesitantly reciprocated, wrapping my arms around her lower back. I tried to ignore how wonderful it was. Danielle felt so good in my embrace. It seemed so natural to hold her like this, and I became painfully aware of the reality. We had been best friends for our entire lives, but I could probably count on one hand the number of times that we actually made physical contact with each other for anything other than a high-five or a friendly punch. When was the last time we hugged?
I couldn’t even begin to say. Maybe we never did.
We stayed like that for several seconds too long, breathing against each other in silence. Eventually, Danielle moved her head a tiny bit to look down the hall.
“Hey Noona!”
“Hello Danielle. Have you had breakfast?”
Danielle pulled away from the hug, slipped off her shoes, and casually began walking down the hall like nothing happened. “Not yet. I hope it’s okay if I raid your cupboards for some cereal.”
“You will not have cereal when I’m almost done making a true breakfast.”
“Oh, you spoil me too much.”
“Nonsense. You deserve only the best.?”
I snapped back to reality, still feeling the warmth of Danielle in my arms, and looked back to see a small, carry-on suitcase resting in the open doorframe. I pulled it inside and shut the door before following them to the kitchen.
My sister had returned to her self-appointed post, twisting and turning across the tile floor as she managed half a dozen things at once—she looked like a contestant in some extreme cooking show. I just kept my distance on the other side of the counter. It may have looked like she was drowning in her process, but in her own words, everyone else just got in her way.
“Need a hand?” Danielle asked with a smile.
“Nope, you are not to lift a finger.”
“Oh please, I can help.”
She turned around with an exasperated look. “Danielle, I will not let you do any work as a beloved guest in our house.”
“Come on.” Danielle grinned. “I want to help. We can take care of the eggs, at the very least. That way, you can make sure the other things don’t burn.”
“Fine. But don’t you dare try to help with the dishes!”
“Understood.” Danielle laughed.
What the fuck? Every time I ever tried to help with anything, she would practically tear my throat out, push me away, and then complain that I never did anything around the house. Yet somehow, with just a few simple words, Danielle managed to convince her to relinquish her iron chains.
I needed to take notes.
Danielle certainly got comfortable despite doing something as innocuous. She stood as close as she possibly could. Her body was pressed up into my side, which sent a frustratingly confusing shudder through my core. She was taking adorable little glances up into my eyes, and giggling every time I awkwardly looked away.
Take the leap.
Danielle’s words echoed through my mind. I instinctively knew that she wouldn’t mind if I did take a step up, since she was so... blunt, previously. I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to draw blood. I wasn’t quite sure, but I swore that I could see Danielle’s eyes sparkle when I wrapped an arm around her waist.
What was I doing? Feeling her pressed up against my side was doing terrible things to my heart. I wanted nothing more than to stay like that forever. Danielle felt so wonderful and soft. Not to mention, knowing that it was her I was pulling close—that was the forbidden cherry on top.
Despite the strain growing in my chest, I kept my hand curled around the side of her slender stomach. I even managed an awkward smile when Danielle swiped a butter-covered thumb on the tip of my nose.
I wanted to do it. I wanted it so badly that I could barely breathe. Her lips looked so inviting—like soft little pillows framing a smile that couldn’t have been more perfect. Resisting the urge to lean in for that wicked kiss made it feel like something in my chest was under tension so high it would snap.
How did I let this happen? Just yesterday I promised myself that I wouldn’t let her hurt me again. I wouldn’t let Danielle burrow her way into my chest and carve another hole that took years to heal.
Yet, at what was literally the very first opportunity for failure. So much for my willpower to resist the charm of a succubus. I knew this would only end in flames. The moment this act ended; I would be left with a vicious wound in the shape of her.
Despite that, I couldn’t bring myself to care about the consequences yet. That was something I would just have to deal with later. The glint in Danielle’s beautiful brown eyes was far too intoxicating.
I didn’t let go of her until the three of us were sitting down to eat. Even then, Danielle shifted her chair adjacent to mine. We sat so close we were practically wearing each other’s pants. Every time I caught a peek at my sister, she just gave a curious smile.
It only got more complicated from then on. Thankfully, she went upstairs to do her classic quadruple-check over every single thing she packed into her suitcase. Unfortunately, that left Danielle and I alone on the couch while we waited for our departure time. I desperately hoped that Danielle wouldn’t fixate on this weekend. Thankfully she seemed to stay her normal self, even if she was cuddled up into my side. It was such a casual display of affection that it almost made my heart flutter more than our hug when she entered the house. Unlike the hug, this lasted so much longer. There was nothing stopping Danielle from nesting into me as we scrolled through Netflix for anything that piqued our interest. As I expected, we ended up in the horror section.
“Exhuma?” I asked.
“Nah. We’re only gonna be able to get through like half a movie before we have to go. I just want something I won’t really get invested in.”
“The Conjuring?”
“That movie literally only gets interesting right when we would have to leave.”
“Fine. What would you like to watch?”
Danielle rolled her eyes. “I don’t know! I already downloaded all three seasons of Sweet Home onto my laptop so we could watch it in the car and hotel. Got a headphone splitter and everything.”
“We aren’t in the car or hotel yet, so you need to pick something.”
“Why do I need to pick? You have the remote.”
“Yeah, and you’ve already vetoed both of my suggestions. You’re the only one being stingy here, so you choose what you want to watch.”
“Oh jeez.” Danielle twisted her head up to glare at me. “If you don’t pick a movie, I’m just gonna start making out with you in order to keep myself entertained.”
“I—uh, what?”
“What? You don’t think that making out would be interesting? It looks like a lot of fun.” She grinned. “Plus, it would be a good way to convince your sister. She comes downstairs and I’m sitting on your lap while we’re using each other’s throats like straws.”
I could only tuck my chin with a blush, prompting a loud laugh from Danielle.
“Relax, I won’t. Unless you ask nicely, of course.”
“What’s so funny?” I heard my sister voice call out from around the corner of the living room, along with her approaching footsteps. Faster than I could react, Danielle grabbed both of my hands and pushed them into her sides just below her ribcage. She started twitching and giggling against me.
“Stop, stop! Please!”
It took far too long for me to realise that Danielle just provided both of us with a perfect cover. Still, I plastered my own mischievous smile and started scratching and tickling away. Her fake spasms and noises quickly became real just before my sister stepped into view. I pretended not to notice her presence and held tightly onto the squirming girl while assaulting her sides with quick and playful fingers. My sister remained quiet for several moments and watched on. I took the opportunity to really dig in and double down on my efforts. What were once gentle pushes to try and get me to stop my tickling quickly became genuine actions of desperation. Danielle’s years of cheerleader made it difficult to get any good grip on her. Still, her breathing became ragged and strained as her face turned bright red. Tears were even streaming down her face.
“You two having fun?” my sister finally spoke, and I lifted my head to meet her gaze. Beneath me, I could see Danielle do the same. I never stopped tickling, and she never stopped fighting.
“Ahh Help!”
“Hey, let her go.”
I ceased my assault and lifted my hands in surrender. Danielle used the opportunity to scramble away on the couch. She drew several heaving breaths before leaning forward and punching me in the shoulder.
“Ow! What’s that for?”
“Dummy! You know I’m ticklish.”
I didn’t, actually.
“You two better not be acting up in the car. Traffic on the highway is already going to be bad enough, I don’t need more distractions.”
Danielle gave a smile that could make a corpse blush. “Don’t worry noona. Unlike him, I can keep my hands to myself.”
“Uh huh.” Was her response.
“Are we leaving soon, or...” I had to break the silence.
“Relax, it’s only ten. We still have another hour before we need to leave. Do you mind if I sit here with you while we find something to watch?”
“Not at all. Sit down and relax all you like.”
Danielle giggled sweetly. “Now—you tickle me one more time and you don’t get any more cuddles.”
Before I could respond, she crawled back into her original position. If anything, she nuzzled up into my side even more than before. Most of her weight was on me, and her head was resting in the crook of my neck. Her hair was so soft. The smell of strawberries was almost overpowering. She grabbed my arm and curled it around her so that my hand was resting on her stomach. Her shirt had even ridden up slightly, allowing my pinky to sit upon the bare skin just below her belly button.
“You’ve decided what we’re gonna watch, right sweetie?”
I swear I’m gonna shoot her. After I shot myself, of course.
“Uh, yeah. Exhuma.”
My sister sighed. “Just know that we’re going to be leaving in an hour.”
“That’s okay.” Danielle smiled. “I prefer the first half anyway. That part’s more interesting.”
-
Thankfully, the car ride was a lot less traumatic. I was worried that spending a few hours in an enclosed space with both Danielle and my sister would be the end of the world. It seemed as though Danielle decided to throw me a bone and play nice for the first time in her life.
I simply focused on trying to enjoy the show. It was significantly harder than it had any right to be, because of the way she held my hand over the dividing cupholder in between us. For the entire ride. As in, the entire ride. From the instant that our doors closed to the moment we parked outside the hotel, she did not let go of my hand once. If she switched the laptop to the next episode, took a sip of her drink or grabbed a snack, she always used her right hand since her left was firmly grasping mine. I could only imagine how gross it must have felt for her.
When we finally parked, both Danielle and I used our free hands to take off the headphones. She smiled at me and her eyes glittered like pools of melted chocolate. Granted, I had never looked particularly closely at her eyes—that was probably to avoid the fluttering butterflies trapped in my stomach.
Even more so than when the two of us were buttering toast, the simple act of us holding hands and looking at each other made every single other sensation in the world fade away. Every neuron in my brain was firing warning signals, screaming at me to let go and turn away. To admit to that I was lying about the relationship. However, this ended would be way worse than if I just cut my losses and ran.
I leaned in and kissed her.
There was no word that could describe it. Perfect was too tacky. Amazing wasn’t quite right. Wonderful just didn’t do it the justice it deserved. What surprised me was just how simple it was. I never expected that kissing someone would be so... plain. There wasn’t any feeling about it that was special. It was just like kissing the back of my hand, if a little bit softer. What made the act so unbelievable was simply the knowledge of who I was doing it with. Knowing that it was Danielle pressed up against my lips in what was arguably the most intimate of acts. My very first experience of the sort, and it was with none other than the best friend I had been in love with for longer than I could remember. The one person on the planet that I couldn’t have under any circumstance. The one person who made it clear way back then that she wasn’t interested. Sure, she was very obvious that she was willing to take this act as far as she needed to, but as for what happened next? There was no telling what kind of aftermath would be present when the dust settled.
The forbidden fruit never tasted so sweet.
“Ahem.”
My sister cleared her throat from the front seat. I abruptly pulled away and opened my eyes. I watched Danielle do the same. Her irises flashed with something I had never seen before. For the first time in my life, I saw Danielle genuinely taken aback. She was uncertain. Just as quickly as it appeared, that shaken expression was wiped clean by her typical grin. Danielle leaned forward and returned her lips to mine. It was only for a moment, but that second kiss felt entirely different. With the first, I could tell that I had broken through whatever mask Danielle was wearing as part of this act. No doubt I had screwed all of this up. At least it was obvious that Danielle was going to hold out for the duration of the wedding. Unfortunately, I had no faith that things were going to be the same after this was all said and done.
Danielle flashed a pearly smile and let go of my hand. “Come on, let’s go.”
“I’ll grab the bags.” I coughed. “How about you two get us checked in and we’ll meet by the elevator?”
With that, Danielle and my sister walked off. Danielle had her backpack and my sister her purse. Everything else was stuffed into the four suitcases in the trunk.
Five minutes later, I was awkwardly trying to shuffle the suitcases through the thin doorway while Danielle laughed and held the door open for me. Eventually squeezing our way inside the respective rooms. It was a very nice but simple room. Grey walls, two beds, a large TV and an attached bathroom. I hefted both of our bags onto one of the beds right before my sister appeared in the doorway.
“Alright, you two. We’ve got a dinner reservation at six, but we don’t need to leave for another two and a half hours. I assume that you two just want to hang out at the hotel until then?”
“Yeah.” Danielle answered for both of us. “We had to pause the episode halfway through. We were probably just gonna chill and keep watching.”
“Alright, I’m going to take a bit of a walk and see where everything is. I’ll be back before we need to leave for dinner.”
“Have fun.” I chirped.
“If you need anything, just call.”
“I will, Go enjoy your walk.” I said then shut the door.
“Dan, listen—about earlier.”
“What about it?”
“I shouldn’t have done that.” I shook my head.
“Why not? It’s all part of the act, right?”
“No— Yes, I mean...” I slumped down onto the bed and held my head in my hands. Danielle slowly walked forward and sat beside me. Her presence only made the feelings more complicated but I had to fight through it.
“You’re my best friend, and I don’t want to ruin what we have. I put us in this stupid position and I’m sorry. That—was too far.”
Danielle rolled her eyes. “I’ve basically been screaming at you to take this far. I sent you nudes. I could feel your dick pressing into me for the entirety of breakfast. If we’re pretending to be a couple, I don’t want to do it half way. I’ll fuck you right now if it makes you feel less awkward.”
“Hey!”
“What? Why are you freaked out?”
“I— it’s freaking me out—that you’re not freaking out.”
Danielle giggled. “Relax. Everything's gonna be fine.”
“Is it not weird to you?”
“Of course, it’s weird!” Danielle punched me in the arm hard enough that I winced. “We’ve been best friends since kindergarten!”
My shoulders slumped in defeat. Danielle leaned into me. “But being best friends means that we help each other with anything, no matter how weird it is. Granted, I figured that I would be helping you hide a body before I pretended to be your girlfriend.”
We sat there for several moments before Danielle twisted her head up and locked her eyes into mine. Sooner than I could do anything to resist, she pushed just a few inches vertically so that our lips met for the third time that morning. It wasn’t as quick as the kiss that she initiated before, but not nearly as passionate as the one that I gave her. It was a slow, simple, and sweet connection that only lasted for a moment. When Danielle pulled back, she did so with a smile and a flush of red in her cheeks.
“Just because we’re pretending doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy it.”
“What about after the weekend—after we get back?”
Danielle almost, almost seemed disappointed. “That’s up to you. It’s also up to you to decide what we’re doing next.”
“What?” I raised an eyebrow.
“You have to decide if we’re gonna keep watching or if we’re gonna fuck.”
“Oh Danielle.”
She laughed at my horrified embarrassment—something that was happening far too often recently. “Red face, tucking in your chin, all signs are there. Like I said earlier—you are way too awkward about this whole thing, and that won’t convince anyone. If you tense up or lose your composure, then one kiss won’t be enough to convince your sister.”
I tried to find words, but my efforts were nullified by Danielle grabbing the hem of her sweater and lifting it. I was foolish enough to think that she was just getting a little too warm—that was until I saw the bare skin of her stomach get revealed as her shirt came with it.
“What are you doing?”
When she pulled both her shirt and hoodie off over her head, she shrugged. She was wearing a simple white bra but was already moving to unclasp the back.
“You’ve seen them before. What’s the big deal?”
She dropped her bra onto the bed, and I was greeted for the second time by the lovely sight of her shapely, supple breasts. This time was so much better because now they weren’t on my phone screen. They were right in front of me, rising and falling with each of her gentle breaths. The red on her face only deepened.
“Touch them.”
“I—uh, um... you s—”
Danielle sighed, grabbed my hands, and yanked them onto her breasts. Much like the kiss earlier, there wasn’t even really anything physically special about it. Her skin was deliciously soft and warm, like a smooth heated pillow. Her nipples pressed into my palms like rubbery little nubs. I could feel them getting harder under my touch. Really the only thing that made the act perfect was again, the thought of what it was and who I was doing it to. I had been kissing Danielle earlier, and now she was sitting topless beside me with my hands cupping her breasts. Tearing my gaze back up to her face, she was wearing the cockiest grin I’d ever seen.
“If this doesn’t make you less awkward, then I’m not sure if anything will. Do you like them?”
“Uh, yeah?” My confidence was slowly returning with the faith that this wasn’t going to completely crash and burn in front of my face. No amount of confidence was going to make my hands start moving. I held as still as a statue even as Danielle pulled her hands away and dropped them to her sides.
“They’re a little small, but I like them. They’re also not gonna break, so grow a pair and start squeezing.”
I gulped and nodded at her confirmation. I experimented with delicate, gentle probing from my fingers. The skin was soft and pliable under my touch—bending in the perfect way as it conformed to the new shape. Danielle sighed and smiled. I was locked there for several moments, unable to do anything but play with my friend’s boobs. She was probably looking at me. My gaze was fixed downwards.
“Alright,” said Danielle, “that’s enough.”
She stood up, pulling my hands from her chest. Before I could even begin to stammer, she reached down and worked at the button on her jeans.
“Take off your shirt.”
“Uh...” was all I could manage. Danielle finished with the button but made no further move towards lowering her pants. Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest like she was waiting for something. Since the act had a double effect of hiding her breasts from view, it helped me come back to reality. Kind of.
“Take off your shirt, or I’ll put mine back on. Your choice.”
Why did this feel like a trap? Surely this was some kind of test, yet there was no way I wasn’t falling for the bait. I slowly reached my hands to the collar of my shirt and tugged to slide it off over my head. Danielle smiled. She lowered her hands, once again baring her breasts. Her thumbs hooked into the waistband of her denim. She wasted no time before sliding her jeans down. Even as she bent over to push them off all the way, her soft eyes never left mine.
When she stood back up straight, she was left only in a pair of simple white panties. As expected from a girl who did several years of cheerleader, her legs were fantastic. Shapely and toned, the pale skin was perfectly smooth all the way from her thick thighs to her dainty toes.
“Same deal as before. Take off your pants and mine stay off, too.”
I was a bit more hesitant this time, but again, the bait was too good to resist. Soon, my jeans were cast to the side just like Danielle’s. Her eyes flicked down towards the fabric tented by my erection and she smiled.
“Now lie back against the headboard.”
I was confused, but didn’t dare ignore her instructions. I shifted from sitting on the edge of the bed to sitting against the wooden headboard, only taking a moment to move the pillows out of the way. Danielle turned around and grabbed something off of the other bed. My eyebrows raised even more when she walked back over while holding her laptop and our headphones.
“Scooch over, make some room.”
I did as she asked, and Danielle slid in beside me. She handed me the laptop for just a moment while she undid the blankets from their tightly made position and slid her bare legs underneath. She adjusted her pillow so that she was sitting up against it, slid right up into my side, and took the laptop again. I was so entranced by the way her mostly nude body felt up against mine and the way her small breasts jiggled with each small movement that I didn’t even notice she had opened up the paused episode until she was handing me my headphones.
“We’re gonna cuddle in our underwear and keep watching until it’s time for dinner, yeah?”
It wasn’t phrased like a question. It was a command that I hastily accepted. Danielle grinned, put on her headphones, and pressed ‘play’. I did the same but didn’t even have a chance to ponder where I should put my hands. Danielle decided that for me, too.
She grabbed my left arm and wrapped it around her back before placing my hand directly on her breast. When I hesitated, she chuckled and paused the episode mere moments after it started playing. Danielle turned her head towards me, grinned, and gave me a quick kiss that seemed laced with whatever devilish magic she possessed. I could barely even think when she pulled back and stared me in the eyes.
“Until the end of this weekend, I am your girlfriend. No pretending. No acts. If we keep being awkward, then this weekend will only end up as a nightmare for both of us.”
“You— don’t want to pretend?”
Danielle smirked, “If we were just pretending, then we wouldn’t be cuddling in our underwear. As far as I see it, this serves two purposes. One, it might just get you a little bit more comfortable with me. If you turn into a mannequin everytime I hold your hand, your sister is gonna see right through it. Two, it just makes this whole thing a lot simpler. I don’t have to worry about acting like your girlfriend whenever your sister is around if I am your girlfriend for this weekend. Screw the act. We’ll figure the rest of this out when we get back home. For now, let’s just do this and worry about making it through the next forty-eight hours.”
“I— uh, okay?”
“Good. Now remember when I said it feels nice having my tits played with?” Danielle winked
I took the hint. My fingers gently probed and massaged at the delightfully soft flesh like it was a warm stress ball. That was, if the stress ball had a steel ball bearing nipple on the front and a heartbeat from underneath that pounded almost as fast as mine. Danielle turned her gaze back towards the laptop, let out a content sigh, and settled into my side before pressing ‘play’ for the final time.
Oh, what had I gotten myself into?
-
Aside from a quick scramble to put back on our shirts when we heard my sister knock on the door, nothing of note happened all the way up until dinner. Well, I scrambled. I slipped my shirt and jeans back on as fast as I could. Danielle took her sweet time. I was ninety percent sure that my sister could see Danielle putting her bra back on through the open doorway. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that; on one hand, it was almost as embarrassing as my sister seeing her naked photos yesterday. On the other, it may have actively helped push the narrative that we were dating. After all, if we were only pretending to date, then why would we be rushing to put our clothes back on?
I only hoped that my sister didn’t notice the erection tenting my jeans. I knew Danielle saw it underneath the blanket the entire time we were watching, but surprisingly, she never acknowledged it. Her eyes would occasionally flick over, but nothing more. No scathing remarks, no witty jokes at my expense. She just left me alone, other than ensuring my hand continued to play with her breast throughout our session.
And oh boy, was that an experience. If it wasn’t for that, I might have actually gotten somewhat accustomed to the circumstance and let my arousal diminish. Yet every time my hand faltered even slightly; Danielle brought hers up to coax me into a continued tit massage. By the time that my sister knocked on the door, my dick was throbbing. It was even harder than the nipple drilling a hole into my palm. Based on the way that Danielle would occasionally shift ever-so-slightly, I could safely assume she was probably as turned on as I was.
Still, she never did a single thing more.
She was my girlfriend for the weekend. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Did she genuinely despise the thought of us, but was going full-tilt on the act in a hope that it made it easier to deal with? I just despised the idea of forcing my best friend into a situation she didn’t want to be in.
However, she seemed to be genuinely enjoying some aspects of this, which only served to confuse me even more. If she was so uncomfortable with us acting like a couple, then why did her eyes sparkle so much when she kissed me before we got in the car? Why did she once again insist on holding my hand for the entire ride to the restaurant? Why did she sit so close to me in the booth and rest her head on my shoulder?
“Just because we’re not actually dating doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun.”
“What about after the weekend—after we get back?”
“That’s up to you.”
Those words rattled around in my head like a handful of nails in a glass jar. They mixed with the ones from yesterday saying almost the exact same thing. Take the leap. Every image of Danielle frowning when I didn’t reciprocate her actions. Every time she smiled brightly when she took another step in our pretend relationship.
It wasn’t fair. I couldn’t even enjoy my burger. I was too busy trying not to let my inner turmoil show on my face. Well, that and fighting off Danielle’s constant attempts to steal my fries. The only thing that helped to alleviate the tension in my chest happened after dinner. The four of us walked from the restaurant to the falls, which were barely two blocks away.
As expected, Cheonjiyeon waterfalls were stunning. Under the darkening sky, they would have been harder to truly appreciate—if it weren’t for the coloured spotlights that illuminated every inch of the natural wonder. Reds, blues, oranges, greens, purples, yellows, and every other colour I could imagine was glittering through the rushing water and mist to create a shimmering rainbow curtain. One of my hands was held onto the steel railing at the edge of the observation deck. The other was also on the railing, but my fingers were intertwined with Danielle’s. Thankfully, the falls didn’t seem to be too busy tonight which left plenty of room for us to spread out and have a small semblance of privacy.
“I wasn’t expecting much, but that is gorgeous,” Danielle said. My response was automatic—leaking from my lips faster than I could catch it and clamp down.
“Not as much as you.”
Danielle twisted her head to look at me with a raised eyebrow. I could see myself wince in the reflection of her doe-like eyes.
“I’m sorry, was that supposed to be a pick-up line?”
I had to quickly weigh the pros and cons of both possible answers before selecting one. “Yes?”
Danielle grinned. “So cheesy, but I’ll give you some points for effort. C minus.”
“Only a C?”
“C minus,” she corrected.
“I’d like to see you do better.” I immediately discovered my mistake when Danielle’s grin softened until her lips were just barely touching each other. She let go of my hand and raised her fingers to trace gently against my cheek. Once she cupped my face in her hand, she pulled me in. There was no tongue action, no lip biting, or anything else that I figured would be present in a make out session, but this also was not one of the few chaste kisses we had shared throughout the day. Instead, this one was identical to the one I gave her in the car before we entered the hotel in every way except one; this time, she was the initiator.
It was a long, slow, passionate, and powerful connection that made me feel as if I was moments away from total heart failure. I didn’t even notice that we turned to face each other until my hands were on her hips. The kiss was eventually broken by Danielle pulling her lips back a fraction of a centimetre. While our foreheads were still touching, and her hand still on my cheek, I watched her big, beautiful brown eyes blink twice.
“I can’t seem to find my bed anywhere. Can I share yours tonight?”
“I— uh...”
“Score.” She wrapped both arms around my neck with a quiet laugh. I could feel her breath on my face—soft, warm, and smelling faintly of her dinner. “That’s how it’s done.”
“You cheated.”
“Why, because I kissed you?”
“Yeah.”
“What are you gonna do about it? Spank me for being a bad girl?” She lifted the corner of her lip in a cocky challenge. I shook my head, keeping our foreheads pressed together.
“Nah. I’ll just have to cheat, too.”
Our lips met once more, but something told me that I ended up playing right into Danielle’s hands. Perhaps it was the way her arms tightened around my neck to pull our mouths together. It might have been the way she stepped into me so that her chest was pressed into mine. Or it might have been the fact that I could feel her smiling against my lips when I wrapped my hands around her waist. When she tapped her tongue against our connection, that made her earlier words crystal clear.
Until the end of this weekend, I am your girlfriend.
I realized she wasn’t lying. For all intents and purposes, Danielle was my legitimate girlfriend for the next forty-eight hours. When it inevitably changed things between us, good or bad, it would happen after we got back. I wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about that. There was no coming back from something like this. Even if we somehow managed to stay friends, I don’t think my heart would never be able to accept it.
Two days of guaranteed sunshine. Two days to experience the forbidden fruit before punishment or bliss. Two days was enough.
I opened my mouth and let my tongue meet hers. The evening November air was chilly, but there was no chance of it dimming the heat that pulsed between us. Inside of our locked lips, our tongues danced a moist duet—a challenge to see who would claim more of the other. For every centimetre I delved into Danielle’s mouth, she did the same with mine. The sensation was odd beyond words. Once again, it was special only for the knowledge of what it was and who I was doing it with. There was something deliciously naughty about licking the inside of someone else’s mouth—sharing saliva and drinking their flavour. Danielle was almost taste like a lollipop, if you will—as I lavished in the taste of her mouth. I could even catch a hint whatever it was she had during dinner. It was clear that neither of us really knew the ‘proper’ way to use tongue while kissing, but neither of us cared.
I don’t know how long we spent like that—making out with the roaring falls as our backdrop. It might have just been seconds; it might have been minutes. It felt like hours, but also felt instantaneous. When Danielle pulled her tongue from the front lines of the battlefield, her lips only lingered for a moment upon mine before breaking free. When my eyes opened, they were greeted by the rolling waves of brown mixed with sparkles that stared back at me. We were both panting, holding each other so close that we may as well have been inside of each other’s hoodies. The smile on her face and red flushing her cheeks almost made it look like she was drunk. I didn’t forget my promise, though.
“You must be one hell of a thief, because you stole my heart right from my chest.”
I grinned. She groaned. “God, that was worse than the first one.”
“Do I get extra points for that?”
“... B plus.”
“I’ll take it.”
-
The walk back to the car was silent aside from the general noise of the city. Danielle was leaning her head on my shoulder with a giddy smile on her lips. The car ride was equally silent. There was simply nothing to be said. Not for the walk back into the hotel lobby. Not during the elevator ride up to the fourth floor. Not during the short stroll down the hall to our rooms. The quiet was only broken when I was tapping the key card against the lock to the room.
“I’ll come over a quarter after eight to help Danielle with her dress and makeup, so make sure you two are up, showered, and ready by then.”
I nodded. “I already have my alarm set for seven. Don’t worry.”
When I shut the door behind us and turned around, Danielle had already kicked off her shoes and was pulling off her hoodie. Her shirt rode up a little in the process to show off her perfect skin, but that didn’t matter since it was the next article of clothing to go. I nudged my own shoes off, slipped out of my sweater, and emptied the contents of my pockets onto the nightstand as Danielle did the same.
“What now?”
Danielle looked up from where she was undoing the button on her pants. “We’re gonna put on our pajamas, get into bed, and keep watching our show until we pass out.”
“We?” I gave a grin that Danielle matched and then some.
“I wasn’t asking. You’re a very comfortable pillow, after all.”
“Sounds like a good plan.”
Danielle pushed down her pants, once again revealing her long, athletic legs. Noticing how I was staring, Danielle chuckled and tossed her jeans at me. I feigned surprise.
“What was that for?”
“I’m just trying to get changed into something more comfortable and you’re standing there ogling me, you pervert.” She was smirking with every word.
“Can you blame me?”
With precision, Danielle reached behind herself and unclasped her bra. Despite having literally fondled them for almost two hours earlier, I felt a vein in my forehead pulse at the sight of her beautiful breasts.
“Nah, I know I’m hot. Just know that this show is only temporary.”
Danielle tossed her bra onto the other bed and reached down to the waistline of her panties. My eyes went wide at the implication. Danielle simply grinned and teased the hem of the fabric with her fingers for a few moments. Cloth was lowered millimetre by lustful millimetre. I had already seen the delicate present underneath through the pictures she had sent yesterday, but there was no hope of me not being enraptured by the sight.
“Are you really not going to give me any privacy?” The question leaked out through her pearly teeth. A part of me hesitated. The rest of me answered with a smirk.
“Nope.”
Danielle rolled her eyes, turned around, and slid her fingers under the waistband before gently pulling it downwards. The fabric graciously revealed the flawless globes of her ass and I stopped breathing. Just like with her breasts, the real thing was so much better than a picture. Even so, the sight only got better as Danielle folded at the waist, bending over in a greatly exaggerated manner as she tugged her underwear down. Slowly. The way she was bent let me see the split of her flowery folds peeking out from her thighs as if it were giving me a friendly wave. It wagged side to side slightly as she lifted each leg a few inches to take off her socks. When she lifted back up, she did so with her panties and socks held in one outstretched hand before letting them drop onto the bed next to her bra.
“Enjoying yourself?”
“Very much.”
“Hmph.” Danielle took a step closer to the storage bed and unzipped her suitcase. I took appreciation in every inch of her lovely naked body. The red in her cheeks was bright, but her smile was brighter. She pulled free a pair of white pajama pants and a black tank top. I drank deep in the sight for the few remaining seconds before Danielle stepped into her bottoms. When she pulled on the tank top, I could see the two-pointed tips of her nipples poking against the fabric. Then she looked up with a smile so wicked it sent a chill through my chest.
“Your turn. Get changed.”
Whatever confidence I had was gone. “Uh, what?”
“You got your show, now I get mine. Take it off. Nice and slow, please.”
If I had known I was walking right into a trap, I would have been much more cautious. Danielle sat down on the bed, crossed her legs, and waited. I gulped. My shirt was first, which was most of the way off my head before Danielle made a noise like a buzzer. “Slower, no need to rush.”
I paused; head still covered by the almost-free shirt. I could only give an audible, muffled sigh as I resumed at a slower pace. I dragged the fabric off entirely, leaving my chest When I grabbed a new shirt from my own suitcase, Danielle buzzed again.
“Nuh-uh. All of it off, then you can get dressed.”
“All of it?”
She grinned. “If I’m your girlfriend for this weekend, that also means you’re my boyfriend. Everything that I do for you, you do for me.”
There I was, stuck in the very middle of the trap she had set. There was only one way out. I set the shirt back down and undid the button on my jeans. We had cuddled while I was in nothing but my boxers earlier, but it was the thought of what came next that made my chest clench. I pulled down the denim, hesitating just enough to take them off at a moderate speed instead of fast. Thankfully, Danielle didn’t interject. She didn’t say anything when I took off my socks, either. Unfortunately, she just raised her eyebrows at me when I looked back at her.
“Keep going.”
The face of that double-standard was rearing its ugly head. It was lovely to see Danielle’s extra-special bits. Now that I had to show her mine? Any hint of an erection that may have begun forming at Danielle’s strip show had faded. Still, I had one way forward. I grabbed the hem of my boxers, looked Danielle in the eyes, and tugged them to my ankles. When I stood up, I had to force my hands to my side so that they weren’t covering my manhood.
“Lovely.” said Danielle.
Somehow, I managed a weak smile of my own, then grabbed a pair of grey pajama pants from my own suitcase. I didn’t go commando very often, even if I was sleeping, but the circumstances made it obvious that tonight would be an exception of Danielle’s choosing. When the bottoms were pulled back up around my hips, I still felt oddly vulnerable. Just the way Danielle’s eyes occasionally flicked down as I pulled on a shirt let me know that she approved. When I was clothed again, she shifted across the mattress and rested her back against the headrest in a position almost identical to how she was earlier when we cuddled. Danielle, still with a cheeky grin, then went and patted the open spot next to her.
“Just a moment.”
I reached back into my suitcase, grabbed a long cord that was tucked underneath everything else, then walked over to the large TV.
“I brought a connector specifically for this. We can watch on the big screen and just have the laptop on the nightstand.”
“And you didn’t bring this up before dinner... why?”
I gave the most exasperated glance to Danielle that I could manage. “I’m sure you can understand that I was a little bit distracted earlier.”
“I couldn’t imagine why.”
“Ha ha. Plug that in.”
I walked back to the bed, passed Danielle the other end of the connection cord, and grabbed the remote. It took no more than two minutes to get everything set up properly. By the time Danielle hit ‘play’ she was already snuggled into my side, and my arm was wrapped around her waist. Unlike before, my hand was not clasped onto her breast. Now, it just resided on the side of her stomach. It was intimate in a way that was entirely innocent F just holding her close for no reason other than to enjoy her company.
Danielle rubbed her hand across my stomach. Butterflies fluttered around her fingertips.
“I think you’d look cute in a dress.”
“I better, because I’d be walking down the aisle like a model,” I said.
Danielle smiled then lifted her head. She only glanced at my lips for a moment before moving in. I met her halfway. When we finally pulled apart, Danielle’s eyes were distant.
“What’s wrong?”
She shook her head for a moment, hesitated, then sighed in defeated acceptance. “I’m horny.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Danielle rolled her eyes and gave a red-faced smile. “Hey, if you had your tit being played with for two hours and then had to leave for dinner, you’d be pretty uncomfortable too.”
“Don’t forget that it was your idea. I was the one playing with it anyway, so let it be known you weren’t alone in your discomfort.”
Once again, Danielle hesitated. That in of itself was a spectacle to witness. She was always so confident, so having her visibly figure out her own thoughts was almost concerning. Even the way she fought to meet my eyes was adorable.
“Do you want to fix that?”
Just the way she asked, that sent shivers down my spine. Before I could provide an answer, Danielle’s hand, the one resting on my stomach, drifted downward. Her pinky touched the waistband of my pajama pants and stopped. Whether she was asking permission or building up courage, I would probably never know. Regardless, the shortness in my breath meant that I couldn’t stop her even if I wanted to.
Danielle gently slid her fingers underneath the stretchy waistband, allowing her skin to vanish from sight. From that point, I could only feel her creeping closer, millimetre by millimetre, fingernails lightly dragging against my pelvis. I wasn’t sure if it was a good sign or not that she seemed to stop hesitating. Her fingers traced over my rapidly-hardening member. They were so soft and warm, like my friend down below was getting a lovely hug as she wrapped her fingers around it.
“Someone’s waking up.” Even her confident smile had returned.
Whatever that brief moment of vulnerability was, it was gone. Maybe she was expecting me to crumble under her assault. Maybe she was expecting an attempt at a witty comeback. Based on the way she gasped lightly, I don’t think she was entirely prepared for me to lift my own hand and place it directly atop her pelvic bone. Her skin was hot to the touch, even through her pajamas.
She didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. The flutter in her eyes and the way she gave a slow, tentative stroke to my shaft spoke for her. I pulled my fingers back and dug them under the waistband. My chest tightened at the feel of her sweltering skin. I could tell that had it not been for the very light pubic stubble, it would have been smoother than glass.
Danielle’s grip around me slowly tightened as my fingers approached the prize. When I slid my middle finger down the split of her sex, both of us let out a shaky breath. She wasn’t kidding that she was horny. She was soaked. Running a finger across her sopping, swollen folds—my digit would be drier if I dunked it in a glass of water. I felt my lower appendage pulse in Danielle’s hand, and I know she felt it too. Just knowing how unreasonably aroused she was eradicated any hope of not being at full mast.
When we locked eyes again, that was when we started moving. Danielle focused on keeping a gentle but firm grip as she eased into a slow, leisurely pace. I matched her own speed while dragging a pair of fingers across the surface of her lower lips. I was given all the permission I needed the moment Danielle shifted her hips upwards just slightly, pressing my hand into her.
“We—ungh, we should take off our pants so we don’t ruin them.”
“That’s an idea.”
I could feel both of our hesitations when it came to removing our hands from the other’s genitals, but I relinquished my gentle cupping of her delicate when she retracted her hand from mine. Danielle instantly moved her hands to the waistband of her pajamas to begin pulling them down. I rested a hand on top of hers to stop her. She looked confused for only a moment. That confused faded the second that I sat up from the headboard, swivelled around the bed, and planted myself right beside her legs while locking eyes.
Even when my hands replaced hers and began tugging down the fabric. The sheer eroticism of slowly, slowly pulling down someone else’s pants while staring into their lust-addled eyes was mystifying. I could never have been more aroused in my life.
Not even when Danielle lifted her legs up, bringing her knees closer to her chest so I could pull the pajamas off further. Not even when the cloth was finally free from her dainty toes and her lower half was left bare. Not even when her succulent, smooth legs parted to either side so that I was kneeling before the prize so brazenly displayed to me.
It was beautiful. Almost as red as the flush in her cheeks, and just shy of being as pretty as the girl it was attached to. The arousal was extremely obvious. I could see that arousal dripping onto the bedsheets. Fleshy folds were almost throbbing outwards, opening up her core like a meaty flower. This time, I could both watch and feel her entire body shiver when I returned one hand atop her lovely mound.
I probably should have been focusing on the task at hand. I should have had my gaze fixated on her sopping slit during my task of bringing my friend to orgasm. I couldn’t. For some reason, the instant that my hand was in the correct place atop her bare pussy, my eyes moved back upwards to stare at her face. I could see her staring right back. Her mouth was slightly agape, twitching occasionally in pleasure or letting out little moans as my fingers began to experiment.
I didn’t know what I was doing. As much as my goal was to pleasure Danielle, an equal part was seeking to learn. To learn in what way I could make her move. When I dragged my middle finger down the entire length of her slit, she shuddered. Spreading her folds with my thumb and pinky made the lips on her face part in a similar fashion. I traced my fingers along the edge of the entrance until I reached a defined nub near the top of her mound.
Danielle’s legs twitched inwards to close around either side of my body and a gasp was torn into her lungs. Despite all of that, our eyes never left each other’s. Fudge and blueberries that glittered through a haze of arousal. I opted to ignore her clit for now—I knew that it could often be too sensitive, at the very least.
Instead, the fingers that were probing around the edge of her entrance decided to begin their delving expedition. A heavy, ragged breath shuddered from Danielle’s lips when my index and middle finger slipped down to the second knuckle. I had been planning on taking it relatively slow and only going to my first knuckle, but the way that her hips bucked downwards into me caused my hand to go deeper. Given that knowledge, I went for broke and slid them the rest of the way in.
I held still for several moments. Part of it was to let her get accustomed to my fingers being inside of her precious vault. The rest of it was so I could get accustomed to it. She was squeezing me from all directions like a warm, fleshy, tight hug around my fingers. Once again, the naughtiness of the action was made relevant simply by the knowledge that my fingers were inside of my best friend.
My best friend, who could offer no words while gazing into my eyes. All she could do was nod for me to start moving.
I pulled my hand back until I could see the base of my fingernails before slowly sending it forward again as far as it could go. My unused fingers were curled against my palm, pressed in between my own skin and the silken wetness of Danielle’s pussy when I hilted against her a second time. And then a third. And a fourth.
I began a moderate but firm pace as I sawed to and for inside of my friend. I was thankful for her lustful grunts and moans; they were confirmation that I was doing an adequate job. Well, that and the fact that her legs were instinctively trying to clamp closed every time she twitched. All I could do was scooch myself forward and lean in so that my torso blocked her unintentional attempts to interrupt my administrations. Her legs were practically resting on my shoulders when I brought my other, unused hand up and started rubbing it along the outside of her thigh.
Danielle’s own hands were not left alone either. In my peripherals, I could see that one of them was now clamped overtop her shirt and was groping roughly at her breasts. I couldn’t see the other, but I could certainly feel it brush against my own as she started to rub her exposed folds. I wasn’t even going to try and pretend that I knew all the best ways to bring about pleasure to a woman, so her assistance was appreciated. After all, who would know how to best bring Danielle to orgasm than herself? She would know where to touch, where to prod, what speed to move, and how hard to press. All I could do was keep my fingers thrusting in and out of her snatch as a stimulating medium while Danielle did everything she needed to. Still, I just wanted to make sure.
“What do you need me to do?”
Danielle almost sounded like she was choking on her tongue as she spit out a response. “Boobs! Pl- hnngh- please!”
That was everything I needed. My hand resting on her thigh instead moved forward. I had to lean in a little bit further so that I could reach her free breast. I was about to begin fondling her through her tank top like she was doing already, but Danielle paused for a brief moment to pull the hem of her shirt up to her armpits. Once her tits were revealed, Danielle continued to roughly grope at herself.
She was already breathing heavily, chest heaving and flushed with red, while the rest of her body was shuddering against me. If that didn’t mean she was close, then nothing would. I just kept my eyes locked onto hers while I firmly pressed my free hand into her breast and began squeezing with far more intensity than when we were cuddling before. Danielle squealed when I pressed my thumb into her nipple—a squeal that turned into a throaty, guttural groan as I moved it almost like a joystick.
For many blissful seconds, Danielle and I were locked in our embrace. One hand each on one of her breasts, and our other both crowding for space at her desperate flower. Her legs up on my shoulders, and both our eyes locked by ethereal chains of lust onto the other’s.
It was nothing short of beautiful to watch Danielle crest the peak of pleasure. Sure, she broke eye contact, but that was because her head pressed back against the headboard and tilted to the ceiling as she gave a loud, strained cry. That just meant that my own gaze was now free to look over the many aspects of her orgasm and how it affected her perfect body.
Her chest turned a shade of scarlet that I wasn’t even sure was possible with caramel skin like hers. The delicate hand on her breast was clenched with such visible tightness I thought she was going to rip her own nipple right off. The other pressing against mine for space in her sodden sex was bearing down on her clit, and I could feel her lock her ankles together behind my back. Through it all, her body shook and quivered like a waterbed in an earthquake.
Her orgasm seemed to go on for hours, but it was probably only a handful of seconds. I didn’t dare to stop moving. My hands only faltered when the hand violating her clit twisted around and clamped onto my wrist to hold still and stop my continued thrusting. Her face was still pointed towards the ceiling for many more long, strenuous breaths before her gaze finally tilted downwards to meet mine.
Her hair was a ragged mess, dangling around her pretty face. Her cheeks were bright red, and there was even a line of moisture leaking down her chin from where she might have been drooling.
She had never been more beautiful.
The post-orgasmic panting lasted for a few moments longer before I started to see the edges of her lips curl upwards. In less time than it took to blink, a full smile was plastered from cheek to cheek and Danielle was starting to giggle. I couldn’t help it. A grin broke onto my own face and I joined in her chuckling.
“That was —wow!” Danielle breathed. “That’s so much better with someone else helping me!”
Wait, did that mean…
I didn’t get a chance to finish comprehending the thought before Danielle let go of my wrist, unlocked her legs from my back, and spread her legs to drop them back to the bed. “Alright, Your turn.”
“Uh, what?”
“You help me, and I’ll help you. Now swap places.”
Right. I guess the original plan was to bring each other to completion, and then I got a bit carried away. Frankly, I had forgotten all about myself during that entire sequence. It was just too much fun to play with Danielle’s special bits.
I could only nod meekly and swallow as the two of us pivoted around each other. When my back was up against the headboard the same way Danielle had been moments before, I felt Danielle’s hands tugging at the waistband of my pajamas. All I could do was lift my hips and let her strip me. Only when my pants were off and my erection was standing proud and swollen did Danielle move in between my legs. I was caught off guard when she didn’t keep a position on her knees like I did.
Instead, Danielle sat right on the bed and wrapped her legs overtop mine. That not only served as a way to keep my own legs open, but spread her own at the same time to give me a lovely view of her flower once more. A view that lasted a mere moment before she scooched forwards until our nethers pressed into each other.
Oh god.
I could feel Danielle’s lower lips kissing up against my balls while my shaft pulsed against her stomach. This position was so much more intimate than what I had taken. When Danielle wrapped one hand around my shaft and began stroking slowly, my mouth went dry. Her fingers felt indescribable clutching to my erection. She slid from the very base all the way to the tip, lingering for a moment before going all the way back down to repeat the process. It was not a long distance for her hand to travel, but every inch felt amazing regardless.
Until she released me suddenly. However, I didn’t dare to question what Danielle was doing, especially not when she squeezed her hand into the gap between our nethers. Her knuckles were brushing up against my balls, and it took me far longer than it should have to realise what it was that she was doing. It was only when she stopped fingering herself and brought her hand back up to clasp around my member when I finally fit the pieces together.
Danielle was going to jerk me off using her own juices as lube.
The amount of blood that rushed to my cock left me light-headed. I felt like I was going to burst. She probably wouldn’t have even needed to lubricate herself, since precum was all but drooling from me at that point. Still, every time her hand glided across my skin towards the head, she swept a thumb across the tip to gather my fluid and add it to the glistening sheen now covering my member. I was transfixed—watching her hand move up and down while her other was braced behind her on the bed.
“Hey, eyes up here.”
I reactively glanced from Danielle’s scolding, and fell right into the trap. It was then that I realised what she wanted. I had maintained eye contact with her for the entire time I brought her to climax, and it seemed she wanted to do the same with me. I also realised that it was an entirely different sensation to be on the receiving end. To stare so deeply into Danielle’s soul while feeling her hand stroke my throbbing shaft was indescribable. She wore her classic grin, maintaining our staring contest even while she leaned back slightly and pressed her mound even further into my crotch.
And she kept going. One hand braced on the bed, one hand rapidly increasing the pace as it worked to hell out of me, and even her pelvis began to grind up across the base of my cock. I could feel her sodden lips drooling against me as she half-scissored-half-masturbated me. I didn’t know what to do with my hands. I resorted to clutching onto her calves, holding on like a fucking lifeline as Danielle went about her business.
There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that I could last like that. I doubt I even made it half the time that Danielle did under my administrations. In fact, I had a feeling I didn’t break a minute. I couldn’t even accuse Danielle of ‘cheating’. All I could do was groan and look ahead in the beautiful prison of her eyes while my entire abdomen clenched around my orgasm like a vice.
I felt like I was erupting. My cock throbbed once, twice, and then every subsequent pulse brought with it a stream of sticky cream that sprayed against Danielle’s bare stomach. She kept stroking, kept grinding, and kept staring. I could only pulse in her hand as spurt after spurt of cum plastered onto her skin. It was the best orgasm of my life—that was for damned sure. Even after my balls felt like they were boiling and my shaft refused to spit out any more liquid, I continued to throb with the throes of my climax.
White lines were splattered across Danielle’s smooth stomach, pooling down into her cute little belly button. Her hand was covered in cum, making lewd noises and a slimy mess of my cock as she continued to slowly stroke up and down.
“Feel better?”
I struggled to find words. “Oh... yeah. You?”
“Mhmm.” She smiled. “Now I can definitely focus on the show.”
I noticed that when she rolled down her tank top back into position, she did so without bothering to do anything about the cum staining her stomach. I also noticed that when she crawled back into our cuddling position from before, she made no move to grab our pajama pants. Finally, I noticed that she was pressed up into my side even more so than usual, with one of her naked legs curled over mine.
Then she pressed ‘play’ and the sounds of the show returned.
-
Waking up beside her was such a weird feeling; it didn't matter that butterflies were swarming my stomach the entire time we were cuddling once my eyes were closed; however, morning had arrived, and her eyes did not open until I shook her awake. Danielle slept through the alarm, she had never slept through her alarm.
-
I looked up as I heard the electronic lock click open and my sister walk back in, her makeup bag trailing behind her.
“That was fast.” I said. My sister nodded.
“Danielle’s dress was simple enough as is, and with a face like hers, it’s really easy to put too much makeup. She has such a natural beauty that all you need is a few basics to help draw it out. You can’t improve something that’s already perfect.”
Of course, I didn’t hear a single word that my sister had said. That was because the entire world went silent when Danielle walked through the doorway.
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The first thing I noticed were her eyes, but that was a given. This morning, they had looked so conflicted. She kept her cocky grin, but I would catch more than a few glimpses. In my peripherals, when she thought I wasn’t looking, her smile would fade. The glimmer in her eyes dimmed. She would look so distant. All of it just proved that last night was a mistake. Even though she was the one who initiated, I made the fuck-up and ruined everything. Like her analogy, she really was just finding the fastest and easiest way to eat the steaming shit that was this weekend.
Right now, there was zero hint of that trepidation. Her mahogany irises gleamed with confidence as they met mine with a smile. The corners of her eyes were accentuated just the tiniest amount with a shaded seam that solidified the line where it met the lightly darkened skin of her face. When she blinked, her eyelids were dusted in a way that made her cocoa tone a shade lighter—a visual disparity that only lasted a moment yet drew my gaze right back to her eyes when they reopened.
Somehow, her adorableness seemed to be even more prominent. The light pinkish hue adorned her cheeks, trailing down to lips that were just a single shade lighter than normal. In fact, the lipstick was so incredibly close to her own natural tone that I would never have been able to tell the difference if we hadn’t spent so much time kissing yesterday.
Her hair was loose like it normally was, but the natural curls seemed less like she always has never bothered to manage. Now, her luscious locks swept around her face like an onyx curtain, framing the perfect picture until they came to rest just atop her shoulders. It was shaggy, like a wolf cut, but in such a defined and regal way that it could only have been done deliberately. I could faintly see a twinkling of metal through her hair. When black strands shifted, they revealed tiny earrings that were barely more than the studs she rarely wore, but these ones sparkled like diamonds.
Overall, she looked exactly the same, but just... more. Everything that I thought was beautiful about her, which was everything, was simply accentuated by that small amount. Nothing was covered. Nothing was hidden. It was just Danielle in every way that mattered but with an added air of perfection and formality that had not been present so far.
Her dress was one that I had never seen her wear before. That wasn’t much of a surprise, since I had never seen Danielle wear any dress, period. Not even for prom. She had shown up in her hoodie and jeans, loaded a huge container to the brim with anything she could scrounge up from the buffet, stole one of the bottles of soda, then went home. She hadn’t even bought a ticket. Not that I minded —I had been the one driving the getaway car.
Today though, Danielle was no longer adorned in her casual attire. Now it was a white dress that was plain to the eye, but no less phenomenal. It wrapped around her collarbone into a very, very shallow v-neck, with sleeves that went to her elbows. It was taught around her chest and stomach, past her waist, and all the way to the tops of her hips where it opened up just a little into a simple skirt that ended level with her knees.
The only particularly eye-catching parts of her outfit was an almost-wire-thin chain of silver hanging around her neck, perhaps an inch above the collar of her dress, off of which hung a small pendant shaped like a crescent moon. Partnered with that was a bracelet on her right wrist of an almost-identical design, but set with multiple dangling stars instead of a moon, each of which was glittering as they shifted in the light.
She had on a pair of small black socks, but it was not any form of dress shoes covering her feet. Instead, they were her normal, moderately-weathered, black canvas sneakers. Still, it didn’t take anything away from the image of beauty in front of me. If anything, it only made sure to confirm that this was not a different person.
I didn’t realise my jaw was on the floor until Danielle had walked forward and picked it up to stick it back in place.
“Make sure you get a good look, because I’m never wearing this again.” She smirked through every word. My sister shook her head with a smile.
“If that was the case, you could have at least worn heels.” said my sister.
“I’d rather step into the middle of an ant nest.” Danielle said.
Her face was beaming. She seemed so hesitant this morning, but I couldn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to say. I thought that having her be my ‘girlfriend’ for two days would have been easy after our agreement, but last night threw a Danielle-sized wrench into everything. It wasn’t even what we did to each other that made my heart so weak—it was just the memory of the way she looked at me. Obviously, what happened had affected her just as much, if not more. She had tried to play it off, and I was never good at reading her tells, but this morning was sloppy at best.
All of that was completely gone—wiped off the face of the planet. Her smiling, confident mask was back up in full force. I had absolutely no clue whether it was a good thing or not that I couldn’t figure out what Danielle was thinking. I couldn’t even tell if the way she leaned forward and kissed my chin was genuine, like our previous cuddling, or whether it was just a fabrication of the act. Danielle lifted either end of the tie dangling from my shoulders.
“I see you are going for a ‘bachelor party’ look—like a secret agent.”
“Oh, shut up.”
-
Fitting perfectly into my sister scheduled plan. The parking lot was almost empty, which none of us were surprised about. Still, there were a few cars, and only a couple more faces walking around the venue. Most of it was an outdoor garden of sorts that wrapped around a large central building that obviously served as a large-scale dining room. Almost everyone seemed to be outside at the moment, and my sister seemed to enjoy pointing out family members who were present and explaining who they were. She was talking to them mostly, but I made sure to listen in. It had been years since I last saw any of my extended family, and the chances of me remembering any more than a handful were damn near non-existent.
-
Every word echoed in the battle to try and understand her intentions. Every action or sentence leading me to believe she wanted this was drowned out by an equal number of statements implying the opposite. Danielle had never been a complicated person, but now, it felt different. We weren’t alone. Anything she did now could just as easily be meant to upkeep the lie in front of everyone else. The only time I would be able to get even a hint of more information would be when we returned to the hotel room.
For now, I just had to made sure my heart could hold out for that long.
What made everything so much worse was the fact that it was almost normal. When the ceremony ended and the party continued, it no longer felt like I was trying to keep up an act. Everything just seemed like I was enjoying a very-formal-yet-equally-fun house party beside my best friend. The only difference, and the only thing making the entire situation a strain was the fact that Danielle never left my side for any reason other than to go to the washroom. She had her hand held in mine almost all the time, which prevented me from even attempting to pretend that she was just a friend. Every passing moment, her touch was dragging me further and further underwater. I was drowning.
In all seriousness, she was still easily noticeable. Not many of the women present were wearing white dresses like hers, and absolutely nobody else was sitting down at a table in the corner while using a butter knife to carve a penis into the side of a large candle. I didn’t even need to see it—Danielle left unsupervised in a fancy place like this? She was probably going to start carving a vagina into the table next.
She smiled when I sat down beside her but did not stop her work.
“Wow, that’s quite generous with the length.”
“Not really.”
“If he’s that long limp, how big do you think he gets when he’s hard?”
“He is hard.” Danielle corrected. I could only wince.
“Really? With that kind of curve on it?”
“Mhm.” She nodded.
She brushed a lock of hair behind one ear. Before she could turn her attention back to her elegant artwork, I leaned in. “Can I talk to you for a minute? Somewhere quieter?”
Her eyes practically twinkled. “Ooh, pulling me away somewhere private? We’ll just need to be careful—your sister might get mad if we smudge my makeup.”
“I think she’ll be more upset at what I’m gonna do to your dress.” I joked. “Come on.”
I led her by the hand outside of the building, back towards the swinging bench we had practically claimed earlier. Thankfully, there was still nobody here.
“You know, I don’t think the swing can survive if you rail me on it. Even if it does, can you imagine the splinters?”
“Ha, ha.” I sat. Danielle followed suit, turning so that she was facing me with one leg crossed over the other. Her lips instantly curled into a smile when I leaned forward to press them against my own. It was a quick, chaste connection that lasted but a moment, followed by a second similar kiss, and then a third. The fourth lingered for a few seconds longer before we both pulled back just enough that we were breathing the same air. My chest was pounding, but I had to do this.
“Danielle, I can’t do this anymore.”
The look on her face melted so quickly it almost shattered my heart. “What?”
“This act.” I clarified quickly. “You know I like you since forever.”
“Oh, I know you do.”
“Danielle please, don’t play dumb.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“What I mean… what if I say I want you—for real?
She looked genuinely taken aback. Her response was silence. It lasted for several moments before a small voice leaked from her lips. “So do I.”
“You do?”
When she gave the tiniest nod, I swear my heart could have exploded. However, that feeling shrivelled when she spoke again. “I just don’t know if we should.”
“What? Why?”
She sighed, which I knew was a sign that she was about to hit me with some cold, hard facts. “Nine in ten relationships fail. If we try this and it doesn’t work out...”
“I don’t want that either, and that’s also part of what I wanted to say. I—” The words were surprisingly difficult to get out. “—I want to be in a real relationship with you, but I don’t want it to replace what we had. I like having you as my best friend. I want you to stay as my best friend. I just want you to be my girlfriend at the same time.”
She was quiet for several moments. “I want that, too.”
“Then let’s go for it.”
“What if this doesn’t work out. What if everything goes wrong and we break up?”
“We’ll keep it casual, a little kiss from a friend wouldn’t hurt.” I shrugged.
Some of the glint returned to Danielle’s face alongside a subtle grin. “It’ll be more than just kissing if this works out.”
Despite nothing having physically changed, this one was different in so many ways. It felt like pride and success. It tasted like relief and the slight hint of her lipstick. When her hand rose to cup my cheek, her fingers rested upon my skin with a tingle of passion that was previously hidden. My own hand resided on her waist, feeling her smooth, soft skin through the fabric of her dress. Both of our other hands still had their fingers intertwined with the other and resting in the space between us.
Danielle was leaning forward, scooching closer until she was all but sitting on my lap while the bench groaned its disagreement. We didn’t listen. Our kissing remained at the surface level, mostly, but the entire demeanor was quickly shifting to become much hotter and heavier. I pulled back when I felt Danielle’s teeth gently but firmly close down on my bottom lip.
“Ah, did you just bite me?”
“Maybe.” She grinned. “What are you gonna do about it?”
“Oh, I’ll show you.”
I took the challenge and closed the distance between our faces. However, I didn’t return my lips to hers. Instead, I kissed the edge of her mouth, then used soft, lingering pecks to trace a path down to her jawline. I continued towards her chin, then looped back around the other side where her jaw met her neck. Danielle breathed against me and moved her hair out of the way to make room for my smooches, which then trailed upwards. I had heard a lot about the ear being some kind of minor erogenous zone, so I went for it. I took it in between my teeth and gave a nibble. Danielle moaned and shivered against me.
Then the bench collapsed.
The creaking chain holding up my end of the bench, now having to support two people, came loose from wherever it was secured. Both Danielle and I were dumped onto the grass with all the grace. The armrest of the bench snapped in between the ground and my back, and both of our heads knocked together in a decidedly uncomfortable way until we came to rest with her laying on top of me.
Danielle lifted her head, expression widened in surprise. Her thick hair fell around the both of our faces, framing us like a curtain. It was just the two of us. I ignored the twinge of pain in the side of my head where we impacted against each other and smiled. Danielle did the same with a small chuckle before bringing her head down in yet another kiss. This one was soft, sweet, and gentle—lingering only for a few moments before she slowly lifted away again.
“We should probably get up.”
“Probably.” I agreed.
She stood first and extended a hand down to help me up. When we were both situated, she started raking her fingers through her hair while I brushed grass off my suit. We both turned at the sound of someone clearing their throat behind us.
“Did I interrupt something?” my sister chuckled.
“Nope. Just doing some improvised wrestling.” Danielle chirped.
“What about that?” My sister tilted her head towards the bench, hanging from one end while the other rested on the ground with the armrest broken in three pieces beside it.
“It died from natural causes.” I said.
“What natural causes?”
Danielle and I looked at each other, looked back at my sister, and spoke simultaneously.
“Gravity.”
“Well, since you two definitely didn’t break this bench, we should probably leave before the venue starts looking for somebody to blame.”
“We’re heading out soon?” I asked. My sister nodded.
“It’s getting late, and I don’t want to risk my headache getting worse. I figured we could say our farewells to everyone and get going back to the hotel.”
“Sure.” I said. “Sounds good.”
Goodbyes were brief, especially when we noticed some of the caterers going outside and examining the remains of the bench.
It seemed like a minute was all that had passed by the time we pulled into the hotel parking lot. In even less time, we were standing outside our respective rooms.
“We need to be checked out by eleven, but I want us ready to leave by eight. That way, we can stop by that breakfast place we passed on the way here and have a nice meal before the ride back.” My sister swiped her keycard against the lock.
“Sounds like a plan. Talk to you in the morning.”
My sister gave a knowing smile. “Enjoy your night.”
“You too.”
Soon enough, the door to our room closed behind Danielle and I as we stepped inside and kicked off our shoes. The silence was almost disorienting. The wedding, especially towards the end of the night, had been so loud even if we were outside. The car ride back was much quieter, but the radio had still been playing alongside of our own conversation. Now here, in the hotel room, the only sound was the soft humming of the air conditioner. Danielle gave a curious glance.
“Pajamas?” I shrugged off my coat.
Danielle unhooked her necklace, took off the bracelet, and then reached up to take off her earrings. “Yeah, but I gotta shower first. I need to get rid of this makeup, hairspray and stuff. It felt gross.”
“Want some help?”
Danielle dropped the jewelry onto the nightstand and smirked. “You want to help me shower?”
I shook my head. “I’m asking you if you want me to help you shower.”
“What happened to keeping things casual?”
“Hey, I’m just extending the offer. It’s up to you if you want to accept it.”
Danielle grinned for several moments. “Alright, on behalf of the royal court, I accept your assistance in maintaining my cleanliness.”
“Does they even have royalty here?”
“How am I supposed to know?” She shrugged, took off her socks, and began walking towards the washroom. “Now come on.”
I tore off my tie with such force it might have torn. I wasn’t sure. I didn’t bother to check before throwing it onto the bed and following Danielle. The way she grinned with such a seductive humour was more than enough to tear of my attention. When I rounded the corner, Danielle was holding the hem of her skirt in her hands. The lifted fabric showed several inches of her bare thighs.
“Care to help me undress?”
“Do you have any idea how much of a stupid question that is?” I smiled and walked forward. Together, we slowly worked to lift the dress and peel it off like a shirt. Well, Danielle lifted the dress. I held my hands just below hers as they rose, running my fingers across her body while I pretended to help. Past her thighs and hips to reveal a plain pair of black underwear that almost resembled boxers, but distinctly feminine. It took only a moment to figure it was probably to better conceal her delicate while wearing a skirt.
I didn’t linger on her underpants, since more of her lovely body was being revealed. The fabric rose to her smooth, toned stomach. One inch, then a second, then a third, up to her cute little belly button. I continued to rub my hands along her sides. I didn’t even realise that Danielle had bunched the dress to hold it in one hand until the other flicked me on the forehead.
“I get that you’re copping a feel, but I’m actually need a bit of a hand here. This dress is pretty tight in the shoulders.”
“Oh, uh... yeah.”
My tracing fingers temporarily switched to helpful ones as they hooked underneath the fabric and assisted in pulling it upwards. It didn’t stop me from visually ogling the way her black bra was revealed mere inches from my face. At least, it didn’t stop me until we got to the aforementioned shoulders. We must have looked pretty stupid for the bit of time we spent with Danielle in her underwear while her head and arms were stuck in a dress. Eventually, and with a distinct tearing noise, the dress came free. Danielle didn’t bother to check what part tore. She just dumped it onto the floor and huffed.
“I guess it was a nice dress. Anyways…” She turned around and grabbed her hair with one hand to hold it out of the way. “Mind getting my bra?”
My smile returned, but faded just as quickly when I got my hands on the back of her bra.
“Uhh, how do I...?”
“You pull the straps together, then apart.”
“Like this?”
“Ow, no. You gotta do it like—ah screw it.”
Danielle reached back and unhooked the mechanism in the blink of an eye. She dropped the bra to the floor and turned around.
“Okay, clearly, we’re not good at foreplay, so let’s just skip it and actually take our shower. Agreed?”
I nodded, somehow managing to stare at her face instead of her breasts. “Agreed.”
Danielle pulled off her panties while I went to work on the buttons of my shirt. It was clear we were done wasting time when a nude Danielle’s hands were fumbling with the buckle of my belt before I was even done with the second button. Despite the disposal of intentional foreplay, the simple concept of Danielle pulling down my pants and boxers in one single motion made my lower member get revealed at full mast. My shirt fell onto the floor beside my pants, followed shortly by my socks. Danielle smiled again.
“Better.”
Of course, I looked at her ass as she stepped through the fancy glass door of the shower. There was no possibility otherwise, as made evident by the way she stared at my manhood when I followed suit. I looked at her.
“You do realise that this water is gonna be freezing cold for a bit while it heats up, right?”
Danielle glared. “And you realise that the implication is us keeping each other warm in the meantime?”
Good enough. I turned and switched on the water as Danielle pressed herself up against mine. I could feel her breasts squishing and nipples poking into my back while she wrapped her arms around my midsection. That definitely helped distract me from the sudden, biting chill spraying down against my face. Thankfully, it didn’t take very long for the water to heat up. When that happened, Danielle and I pivoted in place. That meant Danielle had the first crack at the hot water.
That decision was entirely because of how gentleman-ly I was, and not because it meant I was left massaging shampoo into her scalp and playing with her hair in a way I never could before. It was also due to that gentleman-lyness that after we swapped places again so that we could apply soap to her body without it washing off immediately, I focused on her breasts first. After all, being stuck inside that bra all day surely made them extra dirty and in need of cleaning.
Her skin was so soft and pliable under my fingers that it was downright mesmerizing. I pressed myself up behind her and rested my head on her shoulder while I worked. It didn’t matter that my very erect cock was pressed upwards in the crack of Danielle’s ass. All that mattered was Danielle.
Her nipples were stiff like pebbles as I rolled them in between my fingers. Again, just to make sure they were clean. It was an entirely new sensation than when I was massaging her breast during our mostly-nude cuddle session yesterday. With the hot water spraying against my back, her bare body flush against mine, and both of her breasts in my hands, I could have mistaken it for a dream.
“I think my boobs are clean now.” She let out a husky breath.
I smiled. “Just had to make sure.”
I let my hands lower, rubbing the skin beneath her chest. Back and forth my fingers travelled from her sides until they met in the center of her torso, then back again. I took my time heading downwards, faintly feeling her ribcage underneath her skin. When my hands reached her waist, I made sure to spend some time scrubbing her tummy. Once again, I had to make sure she was clean. Nothing more. Danielle even giggled a little bit when I soaped up the cavity of her belly button.
She followed my hands without a word as I guided her to turn around. Then, I set myself back in the same position as before. That meant my penis was now pressed up against her stomach as she hugged me and we rested our heads on each other’s shoulder. Danielle made sure to pull her hair out of the way so that I would examine my work and ensure I applied the suds evenly across her back. It didn’t matter that that soap on my hands had been used up long before I finished with her front and I never reapplied.
Her back muscles tensed and flexed instinctively under my touch. Again, I travelled side to side, slowly inching my way downwards like a printer as I lathered the not-soap across her pale skin. I could feel Danielle smile into my neck when my hands finally curved downwards to grope—I mean clean, the swells of her perfect ass.
From the divet where the cheeks met her thighs to the crack in between, I gently but firmly massaged every possible millimetre of her rear end. I could even feel Danielle flinch slightly when my fingers brushed over her delicate rosebud. I wasn’t quite sure whether that was an opposition to the idea or anticipation, but I decided to play it safe. If Danielle wanted that... cleaned... she could ask me another time when we were both ready for that kind of advancement.
“Alright, time to clean your legs. Turn back around.”
Danielle did so, and this time I made sure to re-lather my hands with the bar of soap she was clutching. Then, I didn’t press myself back into her like I did when washing her upper body. Instead, I knelt down on the floor of the shower so that my face was level with her navel. We had to scoot a little farther back in the shower so that the water wasn’t spraying on her, but it was still hot against the back of my neck. Still, that didn’t distract me as I began working on her left leg.
I started with her feet. She braced herself with her hands against the walls of the shower while I lifted her leg and gently applied the suds to the tops of her feet, then curled down to clean the heel, followed by the bridge, and forward still until I squeezed soapy fingers in between her toes. Then I lowered her leg back to the shower floor and slowly massaged up her calf. As I expected from a girl who do cheerleader, the muscles could be mistaken for braided steel cable. They were only slightly visible from an outside perspective, but the dense core was revealed the moment my hands began kneading her flesh.
Further I continued, up past the inside of her knee, and across her shapely thigh. The muscle seemed like a paradox underneath her soft, delicate skin —like iron wrapped in velvet. I rose more and more up her thigh, circling my hands around to the back and then returning to the front again and again. I rose up so high that my knuckles were faintly brushing against her sweet folds. They were distinct in their wetness, and I know that the shower water had nothing to do with it. Then, I switched to the other leg and did the exact same thing. Foot, calf, then thigh, all slow and methodical as I explored every molecule of my best friend’s body. Well, everywhere except the final spot.
I sat on the balls of my feet and scooched forward even more, bringing my face mere inches away from Danielle’s pelvis. This close, I could see the stubble of her pubic hair just barely peeking out from her pores. I could see the muscles in her abdomen twitch when I rubbed my fingers along her labia. So, I rubbed again. Then a third time.
“Alright, looks like you’re all soaped up. Now for the rinse.” I stood. I could see the annoyance in Danielle’s face even as she grinned.
Still, she never made any opposition as we swapped positions and began working together to rinse off the suds scattered across her slippery body. When the last drops of shampoo were finally washed free from her hair, Danielle chuckled.
“Your turn.”
I knew that was going to happen. Danielle always gave more than she got. Whether it was revenge taken too far on a harmless prank, a sassy comeback turned into a roast felt by the victim, or even a heartfelt gift blown out of the water by a present with love and care all but oozing from the wrapping, Danielle never lost at anything. So, I knew that she was going to take just as much time and effort in ‘cleaning’ me, and then some.
First was the shampoo, and that immediately caused her method of revenge to be plainly obvious. She was pressed up against me as flush as she could possibly be, which meant her nipples were boring holes into my chest as she massaged the product into my scalp. Not only that, she was moving. It was subtle, but distinct. Danielle was grinding on me. My cock was pressed in between our pelvises, but Danielle’s was shifting up and down as she rolled up onto her toes before going back down. She even tilted her hips back just a bit so that her sex would be jutting out to graze against me in a way almost reminiscent of last night’s mutual masturbation.
Somehow, she made it even worse. when she turned me around and started soaping up my body. I’ll admit, I took my time when washing her purely for my own entertainment. It was a delight to admire and massage her perfect body. If it made Danielle feel good in the process, that was just a bonus. I could all but guarantee that Danielle’s own machinations in washing me were nothing more than an attempt to get me painfully aroused. An attempt that worked in stride.
Danielle kept herself pressed up against me, grinding away as she rubbed soapy hands up and down my chest. Furthermore, she wasn’t just resting her head in my shoulder—she was all but nuzzling me. As her hands worked across my torso, her mouth was giving little kisses and licks against my neck. When her head tilted up just enough for her to nibble at my earlobe—still soapy with shampoo.
“Oooh, you’re trembling.” She cooed. Her voice was soft, lips barely brushing against my ear as she whispered. “You must be cold. I can fix that.”
If I thought Danielle was pressing into me before, then she may as well have fused into my skin in the next moment. She was no longer resting into me and lightly grinding, she was hugging me tightly against her, smooshing her slippery breasts even further into my back and sliding one of her legs in between my own. By the time she returned her lips to my neck I was throbbing down below.
Washing my back was even worse, because now we were chest-to-chest. It also meant that she returned to grinding on my pelvis, but with how tightly she was pressing into me I had to fight my instincts to buck my hips. I was pleasantly surprised when Danielle took an interest in ‘washing’ my rear end the same way I had done to hers. I had never imagined previously that a man’s body would be as attractive to a woman as a woman’s was to a man, but that was being presented in full force now. What fun I may have had exploring Danielle’s nude form, Danielle was replicating and more.
When Danielle got onto her knees to ‘wash my legs’, I was all but leaking. Having her knelt down before me, slippery and dripping as water cascaded over her, looking up at me past my throbbing erection—I knew that image would be seared into my mind forever. She didn’t comment, she just smiled and grabbed the soap to reapply. I couldn’t even focus on the way her twinkling eyes were staring into my own—the feeling of her soft, gentle fingers rubbing up my legs in a way that was almost worship overpowered everything else. If this was anything like how it felt for her, no wonder she was being cutthroat.
I expected her to finally touch the one place she hadn’t so far. She would wrap her hand around my shaft and pump just a few times but then pull away, leaving me so unsatisfied like I did to her.
I didn’t expect her to lean forward and lick my lower head.
“Oh” I yelped. Danielle smiled in a way that could make a succubus blush.
“Just making sure that you’re clean. Don’t mind me.”
I didn’t get a chance to respond. Danielle rested one hand on my thigh and used the other to gently clasp onto my shaft. When she moved her grip forward, she used the motion to pull herself towards me and plant a gentle kiss on my tip. Then she pushed back to bring her hand closer to my base before repeating the process. Stroke, kiss, stroke. Stroke, kiss, stroke.
All the while, she was staring up at me with her big, brown, glittering doe eyes. Her wet hair hung in a curtain behind her head, and I could see the curve of her ass resting atop her bare feet every time she leaned forward. She was beyond beautiful.
The shower was practically steaming with the temperature of the water, but that was nothing compared to the warmth when she opened her mouth. The head of my cock slipped in between the small, soft pillows of her lips into a sopping wetness that radiated with heat.
Fuck. Me.
Danielle was actually giving me a blowjob. Just comprehending that sentence in my mind almost made me burst right then. There was nothing I could do but use one hand to steady myself against the wall as my knees started to buckle. Even with her mouth full, I could see her smiling just by the way her eyes twinkled. I expected her to pull off my cock and make some witty comment.
I was never happier to be proven wrong.
Instead of moving backwards, Danielle went forwards, further onto my member. Her lips slid across the skin of my shaft in wet bliss, and I could feel her tongue rubbing against the underside of my cock as she delved deeper. She made it most of the way before she stopped, which told me that the odd pressure on my tip was likely the entrance to her throat.
This was distinctly different than any other ‘sexual’ act I had shared with Danielle previously. When grabbing her breasts or kissing her, the acts were made interesting solely by the fact that it was Danielle whom I was doing it to. This, on the other hand, felt amazing. I couldn’t kiss the back of my hand or squeeze a stress ball to replicate this. No, this was Danielle with most of my little friend stuffed into her mouth and her tongue starting to dance little swirls on the underside. It was Danielle who moved her hand from my thigh to the delicate pouch hanging between my legs and properly initiated the blowjob.
There was no chance of me lasting any moderate length of time. With one hand wrapped partially around the shaft and pressed into my pubic bone, the other gently cupping my balls, and tongue passionately lathering up every inch she could reach as her lips slid forward and back, it was a miracle that I could hold out for as long as I did. By the third time her lips pressed up against her fingers wrapped around my cock, I was groaning.
“Dan, I’m...”
I couldn’t finish my words. Danielle pulled off with a loud, wet ‘POP’ and immediately started pumping her hand at a pace significantly faster than she had been going previously. Even if it lacked the distinct feel of her mouth, the rapid stimulation of her manual milking proved more than effective. A single grunt was all I could manage before I began pulsing. Danielle made sure to bring her face in closely.
The first rope of cum hit her at the base of her hair, but strung down in a thin line across her face. The second splattered against one closed eye. The third shot halfway onto her parted lips, with the other half going through the gap onto her tongue. The fourth and the remaining leftover drops all dribbled onto her chin. Even when no more seed sprang forth to paint her face a paler shade, my shaft still throbbed with release, brought to a much higher level of satisfaction since Danielle never stopped pumping her hand. Her gentle yet firm fingers milked out every drop I was willing to give and then some.
Only after my throbbing pulses ceased did Danielle slow her pace to a crawl, then a stop. She looked up at me with those big, adorable, sexy, teasing eyes. Well, one of them. The other was closed because of my cum sticking to her eyelid. She swallowed.
“Hmph. I was just making sure you were clean and you had to go and get me all dirty. Looks like it’s my turn with the water again.”
I wasn’t sure how I managed to speak as she stood up. “Well, I still need to rinse, so you can wait a minute.”
“Suit yourself. I’ll just have a bit of a snack in the meantime.”
I was confused, right until she dragged a finger across her closed eye to scoop up the jizz. She glanced at it for a moment, then looked me dead in the eyes as she slid the finger into her mouth. I watched her suckle on it like some sort of popsicle until her finger came back out spotless.
“Mmm. Did you have apple today?”
“Fuck off.” We both chuckled and swapped positions once again so that I could stand under the water. Danielle didn’t help me rinse the same way I did with her. Instead, she just leaned against the back wall and made a goddamned show out of scooping up the cream staining her face and making loud, lewd noises as she slurped it off of her fingers. I hadn’t even begun to soften after my climax, and the unreasonably sexy performance in front of me brought an aching arousal right back into my loins.
Distractions aside, I rinsed the soap in record time. It was almost sad to watch Danielle get back under the water and gently scrub her face. Thankfully it wasn’t all bad. It gave me the opportunity to saddle right up against her and hug her from behind. Danielle took several moments to slowly and carefully rub her fingers into the creases of her face, likely to ensure that both cum and lingering makeup were both removed. I spent that time rubbing her stomach, kissing her neck, and occasionally bringing a hand up to brush against the bottom of her breasts.
After a long while, Danielle shut off the water and we moved from the shower into the rest of the bathroom to towel off. She laughed when I took the initiative and rubbed my towel across her body.
“Oh! You’re drying me? Surely this is just a gesture of kindness with no ulterior motives of any kind.”
“Of course, of course.”
I agreed with a smile as she lifted her arms above her head. I greedily drank up the sight of her body glistening in the light like a man dying of thirst. She even had one hip cocked out to the side as if she were a model. I’ll admit, I forgot that I had the towel in my hands. I just wanted to rub her body again.
In a disappointingly little amount of time, her skin was scoured of any droplets of moisture. I couldn’t help but plant a kiss on her belly button as I stood back up, though. Danielle laughed, dropped her arms, took the towel from my hands, and did the same thing with me. Once again, she stepped it up by also using her own body as a towel, rubbing against me like a cheerleader working really hard to get tips at a topless car wash.
I started scrubbing my head with the towel to dry my hair shortly after Danielle did the same and watched as she stepped over to the counter to grab a hair dryer. She must have seen me staring.
“Do you ever get the feeling that you’re being watched by a voyeur perving on you?”
“Nope.” I grinned.
“Got it. Just checking.”
She resumed. It was interesting to watch her glossy, sopping black hair shift into a softer shade. It was equally as dark, but the texture was different. Like liquid ink compared to black velvet. When she was done, she turned to me in all her nude glory.
“Alright, your turn. I’m not letting you soak into the pillow.”
“Fine by me.” I stepped forward to stand in front of the mirror.
“Turn around, on your knees.”
“Really?”
“You don’t need to see the mirror, since I’m the one drying your hair. It also makes it easier for me to see when you’re down there.”
“Whatever you say, your grace.”
I placed my knees on the chilly tile floor of the bathroom and smiled up at Danielle. She clicked her tongue.
“Nah ah, eyes forward. It’s harder to work when your head is tilted like that.”
I wasn’t going to argue, especially when turning my gaze as directed led to her smooth, soft stomach being mere inches from my face. If I flicked my eyes upwards, I could see the outline of her small breasts hovering just above my head. If I looked down, I could see her mostly-shaven pelvis leading towards the present between her thighs. The entire time, I let my hands rest on Danielle’s hips. My thumbs traced lazy circles across her skin. With the added sensation of the hair dryer blowing against my scalp and Danielle working a comb to let the heat wick away any moisture left, it was dreamlike.
Soon enough, Danielle turned off the dryer and set both it and the comb back down on the counter.
“Alright, now we’re ready for bed.”
Danielle led the way back into the room. I noticed how both of us shivered lightly when the washroom door opened. With the heat of the shower, the temperature of the washroom increased a distinct amount compared to the hotel room—a temperature difference that left goosebumps as we walked back towards the bed. Danielle grabbed a pair of pajama pants.
“Wait!”
She halted and glanced over; one eyebrow raised in a silent question. I gently took the pants from her hand.
“Not yet. We aren’t done.”
The other eyebrow raised to match the first along with her smirk. “Oh, is that so? You help me clean up in the shower and now you’re offering some extra stress relief?”
“I'm nothing but a gentleman.” I said.
“Right, what happened to keeping things casual?”
“This is casual. You’ve never heard of casual sex?”
Danielle chuckled. “Which implies the existence of ranked competitive sex.”
“Exactly. Care to stay in the little league and release some tension?”
“You know...” Danielle wrapped her arms around my neck and batted those big, beautiful eyes. “I always imagined my first time would be a bit more romantic than a cheap fling.”
I shrugged. “We could get some sojus from the vending machine down the hall and pretend it’s wine.”
“Hmmm. Might be a bit too fancy for me. Anything else?”
“How about we turn on the TV and do it while watching people get eaten alive?”
Danielle smiled. “That’s more like it.”
“Speaking of eating people, I’m a little hungry.” I cupped one hand against her mound to allude towards my point. Danielle drew in a short breath at the contact.
“Oh? Am I on the menu?”
“You’re the dessert, actually.”
“I am?” Danielle said with a smirk. She jumped backwards unceremoniously onto the bed and slid over so that she was lying almost in the same way she would be when sleeping. On her back, stark nude with her hair sprawled over the pillow. It was reminiscent of yesterday’s fingering, but the implication of what was going to happen next was so much sweeter. Then she spread her legs.
Like opening a treasure chest, Danielle’s delicates were revealed to me as I crawled onto my stomach in between her thighs. Her outer folds were parted and glossy with moisture, while the inner folds were veritably dripping with arousal.
“Well, are you just gonna sit there staring at your meal, or are you gonna take some initiative and eat it?”
I looked up past her pelvis towards Danielle’s grin. “I’ve always been a fan of sandwiches, but this one looks soggy.”
“Go fuck yourself.” She said.
“Not until I fuck you, first.”
It was more for the shock factor more than anything, which I got in spades when I abruptly gave a long, firm lick up the entire length of her slit. Danielle shuddered, legs twitching, and abdomen flinching. Once again comparing the sensation to expectations, Danielle’s most precious place didn’t taste like anything special. It just tasted like, well... Danielle. Perhaps with a touch of a metallic bite, but overall, it was just a taste of clean, freshly showered skin. It had that in common with almost everything else about intimacy. It wasn’t even the act itself that brought pleasure, it was the knowledge about what the act was, and the fact it was Danielle gasping at the sudden contact.
Much like yesterday, I still had no idea what I was doing. I only have the vague idea that I should probably start slow, and then work up into things. However, the surprise lick was too fun of an idea to pass up, even if it starts off a lot stronger than I probably should have. When I gave a second pass with my tongue, it was much gentler than the first. I dragged my flesh along the outside of her flowering lips with a fraction of the pressure. Then I did the same to the other side. I planted a soft kiss to the front of her pelvis, then returned my nose to her skin while I lathered her folds with light swaths of my tongue.
I didn’t even notice that my arms were wrapping around her legs until my hands came to rest atop her thighs like I was preparing for recoil. Underneath her skin, I could sense her muscles shifting and flexing just slightly with the applications of stimulus. Even though I couldn’t see her face from this position, I could feel the calm, pleasured smile crawling across Danielle’s face just by the way her pussy relaxed against my mouth.
Aside from her fingers lazily curling into my hair, she made no movement to interfere with my actions. That left me with all the freedom I wanted. I was in no rush- no hurry to reach the finish. I was simply going to enjoy the journey and hopefully learn a thing or two along the way. After all, the only way I would get better at going down on Danielle is if I did it a lot.
I started slow. That served as a solid baseline for both myself to get acquainted with the concept of eating out my friend, and hopefully to allow for a lovely buildup of pleasure on her end. My tongue traced long, gentle circles across the skin around her slit. Occasionally, the edge of my probing implement would tickle against folds that almost seemed to be reaching outwards towards stimulation. Either that, or Danielle was making minute adjustments with her hips to try and twist herself into my tongue.
That confirmation was all I needed to quickly change my strategy. Instead of using my tongue like a brush against her canvas, I lowered my mouth to cover the entirety of her flower in a warm, wet seal. Danielle twitched amidst a pleasured groan. I could feel her fingers dig their way towards my scalp. They were still loose, but no longer were they merely residing in my hair. Now they held me in a grip that had only enough pressure to convince me to stay where I was. Not that I was planning on leaving anyway.
Those fingers quickly tightened when I dragged my tongue up the length of her sweet sex. I brought it down in the same way, then back up, then back down once more. It was like I was licking her own tongue, but with a bit more texture. The thought made me smile. As of this moment, I had officially kissed Danielle on both her upper lips, and her lower ones.
When I began to lick upwards once more, I took a bit more initiative. My tongue applied more pressure forward and pushed aside folds to allow a shallow entry. Danielle let out a long breath while I lapped up her intimate fluids. I imagined this is what a dog felt like when drinking water- tongue extending to scoop out what nourishment was manageable before pulling it back to swallow. The most I could hope was that my motions were bringing Danielle pleasure.
If licking her folds was better than licking around them, and pushing my way inside was better than staying out, then that surely meant going deeper was the best I could do. So, I strived to use every centimeter of my tongue. I pulled it as far out of my own throat as I could possibly manage while depositing it into Danielle. I stretched it out so far it almost hurt, but that didn’t matter. Silky walls squeezed from every angle and fingers tightened their grip in my hair. Still, I knew it wasn’t enough. This needed to be perfect for her, and I was almost certain that my methods weren’t quite what she required. Despite each of her actions pulling me further into her, I managed to tilt my head out to free my mouth.
“Tell me what you need.”
“Fingers and tongue.”
Her response was given in a single, slow, exhaled breath. The same one that finished with a satisfied purr when I pulled one hand from where it was wrapped around her thigh. That hand reached down under my chin and squeezed its way to lend a pair of fingers alongside my delving tongue. The added mass inside of her was apparent in the way it made her leg muscles shudder. I didn’t need to ask for my next instructions.
“Mmm, lick my clit. Keep going with the fingers.”
I did just that. I pulled my tongue free from the confines of her fleshy walls and focused attention on the small nub positioned at the top point where both sides of her sex met. As limited as my knowledge about this sort of thing was, it was enough that I knew the clitoris was very sensitive. I started lightly, giving nothing more than gentle, rasping licks against its bulbous surface. It seemed like such a small, inconsequential thing to do. Surely such a simple action couldn’t make that much of a difference.
Danielle’s reaction proved otherwise. The transition was instantaneous. Her breath caught in her throat, the fingers in my hair tightened even further, and my other hand had to actually put in effort in order to keep Danielle’s leg from clamping shut around my head. When I curled my fingers against constraining walls in time with my tongue brushing up against Danielle’s button, she shuddered. It became overtly apparent that I was now playing this game on ‘Easy’ mode.
She was much more worked up than she had been letting on, or the effects of stimulating her clit were even more prominent than I thought. Either way, it seemed like Danielle was squirming and moaning within mere moments after providing my directions. She wasn’t faking it either, I could tell that much. Her silky walls were rippling and squeezing on my fingers too much for this to be an act. Glancing my eyes upwards past her perfect body, her face was twisted in pleasure. Her eyes were closed and her nose was pointed to the sky.
It didn’t matter that one of her hands had moved up to clench onto a single breast, since the other was damn near tearing hair from my scalp. I also didn’t feel so bad for cumming too quickly in the shower, since I may still have beaten Danielle’s time.
If I had thought that bringing Danielle to climax with my finger yesterday was magical, doing the same thing while my tongue was on her clit was even better.
It seemed to last forever. Danielle ground her pelvis against my face and hand throughout the entirety of her orgasm. Though it may have been an attempt to get more stimulation, her wiggling ironically made it harder to apply pressure to her clit. I somehow managed.
By the time Danielle finally settled down, the opening credits music had finished playing and allowed for the episode to continue. The noise of arguments considering walkers in a barn was drowned out of existence by Danielle gently tugging on my hair to get me to pull away.
“Mmm, that was pretty good.”
“Only good?” I teased and propped myself on my elbows.
“Yeah. You’d think with all the time you spend watching porn that you’d know how to do this better.”
“Sounds like I need some practice. Care to be my dummy?”
“Heh.” She chuckled. “Is ‘dummy’ in reference to a testing doll, or are you just calling me an idiot?”
“Why not both?” I asked. Danielle smiled in response.
Danielle’s eyes glanced down between my legs towards my stalwart erection. “Looks like our budget foreplay got someone excited.”
I shrugged. “You try going down on someone while watching people being eaten alive. Nothing sexier.”
“Is that an invitation?”
“Only one way to find out.”
Danielle laughed and sat up, crossing her legs so that we were facing each other on the bed. “You know, I missed this confidence of yours. We could cut at each other back and forth and you would never bat an eye, but then you just kept getting so awkward about this weekend.”
I gave a pause before my answer. “Well, I was afraid. I got us into this mess, and I thought that us having to pretend to be dating would screw everything up.”
“I told you; everything is gonna be fine.” She said.
"Everything was fine until you started acting all lovey-dovey, and I had no idea how to react. I thought that if I did it again, it would be weird."
“It was already weird, dummy.”
“Weirder, then.”
Danielle brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “So, you decided to spill your guts and you think everything’s fine because now I’m your actual girlfriend?”
“Oh, not at all.” I shook my head. “I’m still terrified of saying the wrong thing. I’m just matching your energy and hoping I don’t step too far.”
Danielle raised an eyebrow. “Matching my energy, huh?”
“Yep.”
“So, if I were to say that this was my first time...”
Danielle placed a hand on my chest and pushed, forcing me down onto my back. I could only watch in anxious desire as she got onto her knees and scooched forward until my cock, angling to the sky, was held against her pelvis like she was measuring the depth. She even kept it in place by wrapping her fingers around it and holding me against her. If I hadn’t cum in the shower earlier, I probably would have done so at the thought of what we were about to do next. The end of Danielle’s hanging sentence was filled with implications.
“…what would you do?”
I smiled. “I’d respond by asking if you had condoms in your bag like you had this all planned out.”
“I don’t even know what I’m going to have for dinner until five minutes before. What gives you the idea that I could plan something like this?”
“Good point. I take it that means you don’t have a condom hidden away somewhere?”
Danielle shook her head. “The only reason I agreed to come was just so I could tease you about all this.” She then smiled. “Falling in love with you turned out to be a happy little accident along the way.”
“Wow that’s first” She laughed. I rested a hand on her thigh. It was hard to focus with her lovely figure all but straddling me, yet I managed to keep it together.
“Jokes aside, because I have a serious question.”
“Why so serious?”
“Danielle.”
“Okay, sorry. Question?”
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I glanced down towards where her hand was pressing my shaft into her stomach. “Without a condom?”
Her face softened. “I think so?”
“You think so?”
She frowned. “I mean... kinda. I want to do this. Like, a lot. I really, really want this, even if we don’t have a condom. But I know that we shouldn’t do it without a condom. But I also know that you can always pull out, and then we can also get a pill or something tomorrow. Plus, it’s a safe day so the chances of anything are pretty much non-existent anyway.”
“So, the verdict is...”
Danielle closed her eyes for a moment, let out a deep breath, then opened them again to reveal her melted chocolate irises.
“Yes.”
Danielle responded in kind with a wink, since her hands were occupied. One was placed on my chest to brace herself as she lifted her hips enough so that my member was dragged until it rested against her lower lips like it was knocking for entry. The other hand held it there, pushing lightly until it lined up just right. The head of my cock was nestled into the lovely nook, just lightly spreading apart the folds like they were curtains covering a window. Danielle held there for many moments until I glanced upwards.
“What, is this the one and only time the amazing Danielle nervous about something?”
“Oh, shut up. Of course I’m nervous. It’s my first time.”
“Mine too.” I argued. Danielle rolled her eyes in response.
“Yeah, but you aren’t gonna be the one bleeding for it. This is gonna hurt so gimme a minute, you jerk.”
I held up my hands. “Geez, okay. Take your time.”
Danielle visually steeled herself. She waited a few more moments, took a deep breath, then carefully began lowering. It felt heavenly. The head of my cock slipped inside of her warm, wet tunnel, immediately being squeezed from all angles like the most intimate and naughty of hugs. She held there for many moments, taking deep breaths and preparing herself. I waited patiently for her to continue.
I didn’t expect her to drop.
Right down to the base in one, swift, solid motion. One moment, my head was languishing in the confines of her sex, and the next, it was shoved to the depths while the rest of my shaft was engulfed. Danielle shuddered on top of me while I made several un-masculine noises. When I finally brought my vision back into focus on Danielle’s face, I expected to see it twisted in pain after she just impaled herself. Instead, she was visibly straining to keep from laughing. She failed.
It was like a melody of humour while I struggled to comprehend what was happening. Soon Danielle rested her other hand on my chest with a smile.
“Oh, you should see the look on your face right now.”
“Doesn’t it hurt?” I asked meekly.
“Not at all.” She smirked and ground her hips side to side. Her inner walls rippled against me in oh-so-lovely ways.
“How?”
“I’ve been doing sports since I was five. My hymen fucked off before I even knew what it was. Even if it didn’t, my toy would have cleared up whatever was left years ago.”
“Huh, wait... a toy?”
“Mhm.” She nodded. “It’s pink and squishy. You’ll have fun using it on me when we get back home. For now...”
Danielle lifted her hips almost as quickly as she had dropped them, right up until the only thing residing within her was my lower head.
“...I don’t feel like taking it slow.”
Oh, dear god.
When Danielle dropped again, I nearly saw stars. Then she rose and repeated the action a second time. Then a third. Then a fourth. All the while, she was only gaining speed. I had been expecting slow, careful sex for our first time, but she was a veritable piston as she went up and down. To think that Danielle, who mere days ago had been my casual best friend, was now riding me like — well, it was almost too much. All I could do was put my hands on her hips. I didn’t even notice that she had moved off of her knees and into a full crouch for a maximum-efficiency-cowgirl ride.
I could feel the way she clenched around me every time she lifted, like her insides were desperately clinging on to the stimulation. Meanwhile, every time she hilted me once again, I could see her modest breasts jiggle. They were mesmerizing, despite their smaller size.
“Hey, my eyes are up here.”
“I’m just—oohh, imagining putting googly-eyes on your nipples.”
When Danielle bottomed out once more, she stayed there. Her eyes drilled into mine for many moments before her lips curled into a response.
“Boobly eyes.”
We both snorted out a chuckle. I could certainly feel that. She rippled around me, and just as quickly, she let out a shuddered gasp.
“Ooh, it feels weird to laugh when you’re deep inside me.”
“Bad weird or good weird?”
She smiled. “Ohh—good weird. Definitely good weird.”
She should have known what I was going to do next. Unfortunately, I think the context of the setting was just enough of a distraction that she didn’t put all the pieces together in time. I saw her face twist into a warning.
“Wait, don—”
Too late. My hands, on her hips, immediately started to flick and brush against her sides. She revealed yesterday on the couch that she was ticklish. That mistake was quickly brought to light as I unleashed an all-out tickle assault.
She squealed out, eyes wide, and clamped down on my dick with the force of a handshake between two guys trying to see who winces first. Her hands desperately reached for mine, but I was quicker. Wherever she grabbed, my fingers had already tickled and moved on. Hips, thighs, back, armpits, anything I could reach was a target. I was sitting up to be able to claim more ground as Danielle fought back in blissful agony. Eventually, Danielle had retreated enough that she fell back onto the bed and I was now leaning over her—still sheathed inside her sex. Her hands may have been pushing me away to end the assault, but I don’t think that she even realised her legs were firmly locked together around my waist to keep me buried inside her.
Somehow, I managed to lay my weight down on top of her, pinning her hands in between our chests. Meanwhile, mine were free to explore and tickle away at her waist. She writhed underneath me, head twisting back and forth as she giggled and moaned. Any hope of a facade or confident act was gone. Within moments, tears were streaming down Danielle’s face and she was gasping for breath.
“Stop! Stop, ohmygod please!”
I could easily understand the reactions. The way that her velvet tunnel was roiling around me made her expressions obvious. Every time my fingers brushed against her; she squeezed taught on my shaft. If it felt even half as good for her as it did for me, then that combined with the actual tickling would be nothing short of overwhelming.
“Please, pleasepleaseplease! Oh my fucking god please stop!”
I relented in my attack, but it wasn’t for Danielle’s sake. If I continued, the way her pussy was milking me would have made me empty the contents of my balls in record time. I ceased the movements of my hands and held them still on her waist, using her as leverage to push myself back up so that I was leaning over her. The instant that her hands came free, she opted to hit me. A solid, square punch right into the sternum.
“Asshole!”
“Hey, you said it felt good when you laughed.”
“That doesn’t mean you start tickling me!” Her voice was angry, but she was all smiles.
“You liked it. You almost came.”
It was an educated guess, but apparently one that was spot on.
“Yeah? Let me tell you—there’s a difference between enjoying something and something feeling good. If you ever want to do that again, you better hope that I’m tied down because I’m gonna fucking stab you after I cum.”
“So BDSM is a possibility for the future. Noted.”
She blew an errant lock of hair away from her eyes and smirked. “Laugh it off, dumbass. Just know, if we do that, you’re the first one getting tied. Let’s see how much you like getting tickled while balls deep inside of me.”
Danielle unlocked her legs from around my waist and ground her hips like she was stirring a pot of soup using my dick as a spoon.
“Now come on, I was close.”
“So was I, which is why I stopped.”
“I’m not asking you to keep going. I’m telling you. Now.”
I gave an exaggerated sigh of mock reluctance. “Fine. If you insist.”
This time, it was me doing the moving instead of Danielle. Instead of her bouncing up and down atop me, I was the one doing the thrusting. We were locked in a pseudo-missionary position as I brought my hips back slowly before sending them forward once more in a swift motion. It was ecstatic. To look down beneath me and see Danielle, hair spread around her face like an angel’s halo, was nothing short of a miracle. I was fucking Danielle. I was fucking my best friend. I was fucking my girlfriend. My best friend Danielle. My girlfriend Danielle.
When I stared into her eyes, I could feel the desperation quickly building on both of our faces. At least we were both premature. Danielle gritted her teeth and spoke in between grunts of pleasure.
“Don’t you fucking dare cum before me.”
“Dan, I…”
“No. Don’t do it. Don’t, you stupid piece of shit. Just let me cum, fucking make me cum and then you can cum.”
“I don’t…”
Danielle pulled me down so that I was lying on top of her again, but this time her hands were free to hold taught onto the sides of my face as she smashed her lips against mine. I could feel her heartbeat pounding into my chest, or maybe it was my own. Either way, it felt like one of us was about to go into cardiac arrest. Danielle’s legs wrapped firm around my waist once more, which I could only vaguely consider a bad idea. The rest of me was desperately trying to hold on while Danielle convulsed through the beginnings of her climax.
If it felt amazing having her cum on my fingers and tongue, then there was no word in the English language that could describe the sensation of having Danielle squeeze down and shudder on my cock. Every millimetre cinched within the silky confines of a fleshy, vibrating hydraulic press that desperately sought to milk me in the way nature intended. It was bliss. It was agony. It was a sensation that I fought desperately to resist as I strained my muscles.
That wasn’t the only battle I fought in that moment, either. With Danielle’s legs locked instinctively around me and her cunt gripping with the force of a god I didn’t believe in; I had to force and push every muscle in order to try and pull out. It was not simply a battle—it was a war that needed to be won.
I lost.
Danielle and I both groaned into each other’s mouth as I slammed my pelvis back against hers. If she wasn’t going to let me pull out, intentionally or not, then I wasn’t going to try anymore. With my shaft buried as deep as it would go and Danielle twitching underneath me, I gave one single, powerful throb before the flood gates opened.
I don’t think either of us were cognizant enough to be aware of what was happening. We were both too locked into the throes of pleasure to resist, so we just let it wash over us like a tidal wave. Danielle swallowed my moans as I weakly attempted to thrust my buried cock further inside, firing off streams of sticky seed like a Super Soaker all the while. Every time I pulsed inside, Danielle did the same in response, which drew forth another throbbing jet from myself. A feedback loop of stimulation and pleasure shot through us both. I knew that I had stopped dumping spunk into Danielle after a few seconds, but that did not stop the aftershocks of our conjoined orgasm from shattering through us for what felt like a full minute of ecstasy.
When our lips finally parted and our eyes opened barely a centimeter from the other’s, we were both panting heavily into each other’s faces. I could smell the cheesecake on her breath.
“You didn’t pull out?” Her voice was a whisper.
“You didn’t let me.” I responded in kind. I watched her bite the inside of her cheek.
“Alright, I’ll take the hit for that. Since plan A failed, we’re going with plan B.”
“Plan B as in...”
Danielle chuckled. “Plan B. Gotta say, they nailed it with that name.”
“I guess they did.”
I lowered my head into the bed just over her shoulder. We were quiet for several moments, the silence only broken by the sound of an intense conversation coming from the TV. After a bit, Danielle nuzzled into my neck.
“You can get off me whenever you feel like it.”
“What if I don’t feel like it yet?”
“Fine. Let me rephrase; get the fuck off of me so we can cuddle and watch our show, or I’ll shove my foot so far up your ass I can tie my shoes with your dental floss.”
“Wow. Very romantic.”
Danielle was all but whispering into my ear. “You want romantic? Wait ‘till you see what I do with my other foot.”
“Okay, okay.” I chuckled and pushed myself back up onto my knees. I slowly withdrew my softening member from Danielle’s lovely pussy. The only fluids dribbling down her folds seemed to be her own, which made sense. Lying down like this- gravity couldn’t really pull my cum from inside her. Not that it looked like Danielle minded. She just grabbed my arm and roughly yanked me down beside her. It only took a few moments of readjusting before we were back into our patented half-sitting-half-laying cuddle position, with one of my arms wrapped around Danielle’s waist and her head on my shoulder. Her hair smelled like cheap hotel shampoo.
“Ahh, so much for keep things casual.” Danielle murmured.
1K notes · View notes
meiieiri · 6 months ago
Text
𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 | 00
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"You know what hurts the most? I've lost our children too...but you...you're still alive...and I've already lost you."
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synopsis: the chairman of the gojo group of companies, gojo satoru, is in need of an heir and quick. however, with a wife who is struggling to conceive and his subsequently crumbling marriage, he is forced to explore other options which now comes in the form of his wife's secretary.
pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader
warnings: 18+ angst, smut, mentions of depression and miscarriage.
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You and Satoru Gojo are cursed.
Your marriage began to fracture the day you learned you could never have children, each passing moment turning your marriage into a silent battleground of unspoken regrets and fading hopes. People would tell you that it’s probably just bad luck or wrong timing and that sooner or later, you and your other half would be blessed with your hearts’ desires. All you had to do was wait for the right moment, but no one told you that you’d be waiting forever.
“Your tie is crooked again.”
You step into the now empty groomsmen suite where your husband is peering at himself in the mirror. Just a few years ago, he played the role of the groom, anxiously waiting for the hour he’d be linked to you forever. Now, he’s a groomsman in someone else’s wedding and hopefully a happier marriage.
Satoru looks up at the mirror to see you standing there as if on ceremony, waiting for him to invite you in. Ironically, that pretty much sums up your entire marriage: your shared heartbreak has become a gaping chasm between the two of you. You and Satoru could only hope that his sister’s wedding wouldn’t end up like yours – as lonely and quiet as a solitary mountain lake.
“I got it. You should head down with the other bridesmaids.” Satoru unloops his tie, his heart stubbornly refusing yours.
A numbness coats your veins when he simply gives up, and unbuttons his white collar for a more laid-back look instead, of course he’d rather do that — do anything else — than accept help from you, than speak more than two sentences to you, than be anywhere near you. That’s just how things are now after running head first into a happily ever after that was never going to come. “Fine. I’ll see you downstairs then.”
“Sure,” Satoru says nonchalantly.
He half-expected you to linger by the door for another minute, but his heart caves in when he sees you’ve simply left. But what did he expect? The void that exists between the two of you had grown too vast, and the brighter days of your marriage had been swallowed by the abyss of unmet expectations, and endless heartbreak. And now, all that’s left of the chaos is two lovers who have now ventured into the realm of reluctant strangers driven apart by fate.
Satoru walks over to the now closed door, and somehow sensing that you were still on the other side, he presses a hand to the cold wooden material, as if to say, “I’m still here.”
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He hears a soft sniffle, then the painful sound of your receding footsteps and Satoru is, for the first time in one thousand four hundred sixty one days of calling himself your husband, utterly alone.
“Time to go home,” Satoru says monotonously, his right hand buried in his pocket while his free one holds the now settled hospital bill. He looks at you blankly, almost as if he expected this. After all, when you showed him the positive pregnancy test fifteen weeks ago, unlike the preceding ones, Satoru didn’t bother to make it public.
“I-I’m so…” you trail off, your eyes brimming with tears. “...Sorry.”
“I know. You always are,” your husband curtly replies. He’s lost count of how many times you’ve been in this exact position: by your hospital bed with a medical abstract in his hand with the words “spontaneous miscarrriage” printed on it.
He was getting sick of it. It’s almost like a nightmare that never seems to end. This would have been your fifth child, and yet again, you and Satoru would never have the chance to hold them in your arms for even just a second until they’re brutally ripped away from you. He looks at you again and sighs when you don’t move a muscle, seemingly still in shock from the ordeal.
“If you’re not ready to go, I’ll just have our driver pick you up.”
“...Alright.”
“Okay.”
He turns to leave but then your broken voice cuts through the thick air of the hospital room. “Satoru…? You don’t blame me right?”
Satoru screws his eyes shut, that was the last question he wanted to answer. He couldn’t bring himself to tell you that he has never blamed you for miscarrying, that, in the four years since he married you and the four years he’s had to witness child after child slip through your fingers like it was never meant to be, he’s never felt a tinge of disappointment towards you.
He told you not to go to the dental mission today, since you were on strict bedrest with your placenta previa but you made all these bullshit reassurances that you weren't going to push yourself too hard. He wants to say that you should have been more careful, that you should have listened to him. Yet, even then, he also couldn’t bring himself to tell you, his poor wife, his hurting better half, all the resentment he’s been harboring, so, he does the only thing he can do.
He runs away, far away from you when you need him the most. You stifle a sob when he doesn’t even crane his head back to look at you like the act of doing so would make him sick. “Get some rest," he simply tells you, unaware that this would be the last real conversation you’d have for a while because the next two months would be weeks of gut-wrenching silence. "Today...must have been hard for you."
He was wrong, you think sullenly to yourself as he leaves you alone. Every day has already become unbearable for you, every breath has become debilitating. What right did you have to breathe when all your children, each one departing with a piece of your and Satoru’s hearts, had been denied that very right?
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Looking back at it now, Sayuri’s wedding was just like yours. What else would you have expected considering that you helped with the preparations from the color scheme to the venue’s decorations? Sayuri valued your input, and with you, despite being the junior party, having gotten married first, surely, you must have known what you were talking about when it comes to weddings. Too bad you couldn’t say the same thing about knowing a thing or two about marriage.
As you watch the happy couple from the top table, you utter a silent prayer in your heart that Satoru’s sister will never have to face the trials you have faced.
Satoru stands up from his seat, guiding you to the top table with a hand on the small of your back to bid your farewells and final well wishes. “Sayuri, it’s getting late. Y/N and I should be heading back now.” A look of disappointment crosses Sayuri’s face but it is quickly overshadowed by understanding.
You watch with a small smile as your husband embraces his older sister, whispering something in her ear that causes her to land a jab on Satoru’s abdomen. Stepping forward, you kiss Sayuri’s cheek in a show of sisterly love. “Congratulations again, nee-san.”
“Thanks for helping out again, Y/N,” Sayuri says sweetly, utterly grateful to all the assistance you extended for her special day. “I’m hoping you’ll help me for my next event, right?”
You return her smile with a slight tilt of your head; the two of you have been friends long before Satoru came into the picture, what with her being your ever supportive senior in university. The trust that you forged with Sayuri is often a running joke in the Gojo family. It’s often said that you got your husband’s sister’s approval long before you even knew each other. And it was true. The way she has stood as an older sister figure for you even during your darkest days fighting your loneliest battles is something you will forever cherish.
Satoru casts a look at new brother-in-law who is busy mingling with his own family; he makes a face at his sister’s remark. “You’re already planning for a second wedding when you’ve only been married for six hours?” your husband playfully jokes about his sister’s very questionable comment.
Come to think of it, that’s the first time you’ve seen Satoru smile in a long while, and when he did, it had to be because he joked about the tricky business of remarriage. It pains you to think that he has smiled so seldomly that you’ve almost forgotten how he looks when he’s not in a constant state of silent detachment, oceans deep in his chemtrail of thoughts. You were glad you weren’t a mind reader, dreading hearing his thoughts aloud: his silent hatred of you, the final goodbye having already materialized and rehearsed millions of times in his mind.
But couldn’t he see that you were still trying? You desperately want to hold his hand in a silent oath: “I’m still here.” but you think better of it, fearing that you might just lose him altogether.
Then again, a ghost of a mirthless smile appears on your lips for a brief second, if there’s anything you were good at, it was losing people.
You are pulled out of your thoughts by Sayuri’s sarcastic laugh. “Ha-ha. If I’m lucky, this’ll be my only wedding.” She sticks her tongue out at Satoru who merely rolls his eyes in response. “Anyway, as I was saying,” she turns to you with a hesitant smile, mulling over if this was a good idea given your circumstances.
Just then, her husband cordially approaches the three of you. “Hey,” he greets his wife with an affectionate kiss. “I got you this,” he places a champagne flute in Sayuri’s hand. “Alcohol-free, I swear.”
Satoru’s face falls momentarily. How long has it been since he kissed his wife like that? No, how long has it been since you put up those unscalable walls around the fortress that is your heart, blocking him out at every corner? He glances your way in an attempt to search your face – for anything to reassure him that your marriage was still salvageable, for anything to let him know you and him were still worth saving – he isn’t even surprised when you instantly turn your gaze away from him.
Guess he got his answer.
“Did you tell them?” your new brother-in-law asks with the same trepidation in his tone as his wife’s.
You make the cardinal mistake of asking. “Tell us what?” you ask, puzzled.
The next few words hit you like a tidal wave. Your prayers of Sayuri never having to experience the anguish you felt have been answered, in place of your own unanswered prayers for yourself and Satoru.
“That…we’re expecting.”
You don’t even notice that you’ve already muttered out a brief: “O-oh. I’m…happy for you.” As you numbly offer Sayuri her congratulations, you think back to all the times you and Satoru have had to hear: “I’m so sorry for your loss”. It wasn’t fair how happiness almost always helplessly slips through your and Satoru’s fingers in the form of a silent heartbeat at twelve weeks, or a fertilized egg that never truly grows into an embryo.
If there really was such a thing as “hell” or “damnation”, then yours came in the form of an empty nursery, an empty stroller, unused onesies, unsung lullabies and unflipped bedtime story books.
Satoru handles the news with an agonizing grace, his voice gruff and raw with held back emotions. He clears his throat, repeating the congratulations. “How far along are you?” he asks his sister, his demeanor shrouded with a profound yearning for the same thing, if not for him, then for you because if anything, of all people, you deserve that kind of joy too. Maybe even more so than him. He was fine with just having his wife back, after all. The succession of the entire conglomerate would always come second to you.
Even if you didn’t know it. Even if you no longer cared to believe him.
“Eighteen weeks,” Sayuri answers quietly. “I-I was gonna ask if Y/N would be interested in helping out with the baby shower but, I’d understand if this feels like a bad idea–”
“--It’s okay,” you defensively cut off Sayuri, refusing to hear another word of pity, another syllable along the lines of: “I’m sorry.”. You’ve had enough of that. “I-I’d be happy to…really.”
With your unconvincing words, your quartet falls into a tense silence. You and Satoru don’t dare to stay long enough for either of them to try saving the conversation, so, with a polite and final few well-wishes, you leave. Just as the two of you settle into the backseat of his car for the return journey to Tokyo, tiny droplets of rain begin to collect on the windows.
“...Why can’t we be like that?” you break the overwrought silence with a genuine question, a slight tremble in your voice.
“We were like that too,” he replies almost nostalgically, recalling the many precious hushed conversations each night in your marital bed, the mornings when you and him gaze at the other’s sleeping form, thinking to yourselves how lucky you two were to have each other, the warmth that came with being so in love.
It was an age long abandoned.
Now, you two were silent, your conversations not extending past two brief sentences, your bed is now empty and cold, and your luck had run out the same way your love died out.
“Once.”
You spoke of your union as if it were a house of cards that’s been torn apart by the wind, the two of you are now all but decimated, to the point where one can only wistfully pine after what had been lost that can no longer be restored. And after the many arguments that had erupted between you and him, unbearably, this was the one thing you could never argue about.
Satoru nods, echoing your words with a heavy heart. “Yeah…once.”
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The fact is: no one knows what happened or rather, no one — not even your OBGYN — could have expected this. It was a normal day, you and Satoru, as excited parents-to-be, had booked the appointment and all the succeeding ones leading to your supposed due date ahead of time, so, you arrived at your usual schedule of 3:30 PM, and after a quick check of your vitals, the OB moves to conduct the standard ultrasound.
As you move to lie down on the bed, it seems you’ve only just noticed the bag Satoru was carrying. You look at it curiously. “What’s that?” you ask, pointing to the moss green canvas bag on his lap.
“Your hospital bag,” Satoru says enthusiastically, already opening it. “See? I packed three pairs of socks for you, a sweater, your lip balm, hairbrush, lotion and — why are you laughing?” he asks when you snort with laughter. The OB is also shaking her head in amusement. Clearly, your oblivious husband kinda missed the memo.
“Babe,” you explain amidst your giggles. “I’m not having the baby today.”
“What do you mea—oh,” He awkwardly looks at the hospital bag. Satoru Gojo, the owner of the ever powerful Gojo conglomerate, the darling of Kabutocho and the Nikkei Index, a holder of a dual degree in finance and business analytics, further supplemented with an MBA from Wharton, looks flustered. He had forgotten that he’s only supposed to bring that during the delivery.
The OB chuckles as she lifts your shirt up to squeeze some of the ultrasound gel on the taut skin of your still mostly flat but slightly swollen belly. “Seems dad was a bit too excited,” she remarks. You shift at the cold gel, but relax after a while.
“Well, it’s our first, after all,” you glance at Satoru with a warm smile. He brings your hand to his lips and he sits down on the chair, his eyes altering between you and the monitor. You squeeze his hand as the probe glides over your midriff. The image shifts slightly on the screen and the OB zooms in on the small image of your baby.
She makes a note of the growth. “6.0 centimeters at 12 weeks,” the OB says, pleasantly surprised. “Now, would the two of you like to hear the baby’s heartbeat?”
You and Satoru share a brief look of happiness and nod simultaneously.
Instantly, images of what life would look like from now on flash in your minds: Satoru would constantly be chasing after the little tornado that would be your child, while you’d be too busy cleaning up after the mischievous duo. If it’s a girl — which is Satoru’s preference but he’ll never actually say that out loud — Satoru would be almost always willing to indulge them. Their little girl needs your lipstick to give her daddy a makeover? Say no more, he’s already rummaging through your makeup bag. Oh, she wants a tiara? He’s already on the phone with his ex-fling who also happens to be Swarovski’s top designer to commission a tiara piece for his little princess.
And honestly, the same can be said for you if the baby does turn out to be a boy. It would be a joy to have a little Satoru of your own. You’d shower them with kisses every morning, and every night before he went to sleep, never shying away from letting him know how much you love him.
Or at least that was the plan.
Call it a mother’s intuition but something doesn’t feel right. Worry pricks at your entire being when all you can hear is the drone-like hum of the examination room’s AC unit, the frequency adjustment of the ultrasound machine and the sound of your own hearts breaking at the sound of silence.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Gojo—”
“—What’s happening?” you ask frantically, your head abruptly lifting from the pillow in alarm to look at the screen. “What’s happening, ‘Toru? Why can’t I hear anything?” you look to Satoru for answers — no, perhaps you knew the answer all along — you simply looked at him, pleading with him to tell you that this wasn’t real, that you’ve probably just gone momentarily deaf or something, and that by some miracle, your baby was still there.
But as Satoru simply purses his lips, gently easing you back onto the bed, his eyes brimming with tears that were now falling in the crook of your neck, silently sobbing into your shoulder with you. You could faintly hear the OB amidst your sobs already paging the hospital pharmacy for a prescription of Mifepristone and Misoprostol to assist with emptying your womb. Not that it wasn’t already empty to begin with now that your baby is gone, and all they’ve left in their wake is a void in their parent’s hearts and a sense of confusion.
Why? Why did they just up and leave like that before you even got to hold them, to see their tiny face as they sleep in their hospital bassinet next to your bed? Did your baby somehow sense that you and Satoru would be horrible parents? Were you unworthy of their love, so unworthy that you’d never get to meet them?
“Shh, shh,” Satoru tries to soothe you in spite of his own turmoil, the thought of losing the baby too heavy on his mind to do anything other than attempt to comfort you. “I’m here…I’m right here.”
He was right. You both were still here but gazing back at the black and white image of your now sleeping angel, you’ll just have to learn to accept that they aren’t.
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Satoru has been acting strange all day.
For one, he sent you a good morning text message wishing you luck with your patients today just as you were about to change into your scrubs when you arrived at your dental clinic in Tokyo Midtown, and just after receiving that message, your secretary, Kozue, happily enters your office with your takeaway coffee in one hand and a small gift box in the other.
“You know, Mr. Gojo would be a horrible secret admirer,” she remarks simply, placing the box above the patient records you were reviewing.
“Why is that?” you ask, finishing up on your 9:00 patient’s appointment sheet.
Kozue gestures to the Bvlgari logo on the small box. “He clearly has a thing for high-end jewelry brands, it’s either he sends you Bvlgari or Swarovski.” You breathe a small laugh at her keen observation.
“Looks like your observation skills are improving, pretty soon, I might just assign a patient to you,” you joke. “Anyway, it’s our fifth anniversary today, hence the gift-giving. I left him a new pair of Giorgo Armani loafers on the closet display this morning.”
“You two are so extra,” Kozue chortles. “My boyfriend and I don’t get to do all this.”
You nod sympathetically. “When’s he coming back again?” you ask as you carefully open the box to reveal a pair of Serpenti Seduttori diamond earrings with a blue sapphire on the head. Kozue watches you try them on with a soft smile on her face, it’s not often anyone gets to see you put your hair down.
“Around next year,” Kozue gushes. “But honestly, well, uh…don’t freak out, but—”
“—You plan to join him in Chicago once he gets his MBA,” you answer for her.
You’ve seen her often searching for apartments in the South Loop, indicating her future plans to leave the clinic and the country altogether for greener pastures overseas. You know that the long distance relationship has been hard for her, often using her breaks to speak with her boyfriend on the phone just as he’s about to turn in for the night.
It’s almost funny to think about: that Kozue and her lover, despite being forced into a long distance relationship due to their differing circumstances, were just about as close as literal soulmates get, while you and Satoru live together and yet you’re worlds away from each other.
But whatever, some people just get dealt a better hand.
“It’s alright. I really don’t mind if this would be our last year working together if it means you get to pursue your happiness elsewhere. The clinic is nothing compared to the world, after all.”
Kozue nods in thanks. This is just another one of the many things she admires you for. She knows that she isn’t as tenured as the rest of the dentists in the clinic, and honestly, she didn’t have a doctorate in dentistry either, but you still trusted her enough to be your secretary, and you never made her feel that she was in any way inferior to you or anyone else — it’s all just part of your caring nature even if you do have
“Now, you’re just making me wanna stay even more, boss,” Kozue pretends to wipe a tear from her eye, making you laugh.
Her loyalty is always something you’re grateful for and quite frankly, you couldn’t imagine the clinic functioning as well as it is without her. Sure, sometimes she’s annoyingly optimistic sometimes and just unbearably too happy in the mornings, but you had to hand it to her, in an office full of sleep-deprived dentists like yourselves, Kozue’s infectious enthusiasm is probably just as essential as good quality coffee beans. She always knows when to cheer everyone up, especially you.
“Well, that’s great, since you always know how to get me out of a tight spot,” you half-joke.
“Always!” she holds up her thumb in affirmation. The intercom suddenly pages her and she checks her watch. “Looks like our first patients are coming in, I’ll see you later. And happy anniversary to the two of you!”
The rest of the afternoon rolls by uneventfully and before you know it, Satoru is already picking you up from work like he always does except this time, he’s carrying a bouquet of pink camellias.
He removes his sunglasses just as he steps into the building and you stand there for a bit, a little starstruck.
It’s no secret that your husband is good-looking, but it feels like an eternity since you’ve actually properly regarded him. It’s like seeing him for the first time all over again: your heart thumps in your chest and a blush creeps onto your cheeks. How long has it been since you’ve felt this way? Since the two of you spent time with each other? Since you both made a courageous effort to mend the gap between you and him?
Satoru also stands there, relief washing over him when he notices you wearing the earrings he got you. “Hey,” he greets, striding over to you. The bouquet is placed into your waiting hands and you feel you’ve been swept off your feet when he leans down to press a soft yet somehow yearnful kiss on your forehead.
“Hi…” You shyly greet your husband like he’s some guy you met on a blind date. You then realize he’s wearing the Armani shoes you got him. “Do they fit well?”
What kind of a question is that? Satoru is a size twelve and a half, you should know your husband the same way he should know how his wife prefers pearls over sapphire.
Satoru forces a wry smile. The shoes do feel a little pinchy but you didn’t need to get the impression that he doesn’t appreciate your gift. “Yeah, they’re great.” He glances at the earrings with a soft smile. “You look beautiful.”
“Tell that to the patient who thought I was a mushroom when I gave them nitrous oxide earlier,” you chuckled. Satoru snorted in laughter at that. “Happy anniversary, ‘Toru,” you whispered.
“Happy anniversary, Y/N,” he pulls you into a tight hug, and your heart swells with an uneasy but welcome joy.
Your arms instinctively wrap around your husband’s form which Satoru responds to with an indiscernible sniffle. The walk to the car is quiet but not tense and maybe not peaceful either, years of emotional distancing are not easily forgotten after all. But — you look at your and Satoru’s interlocked hands, noting how for once, it felt like they fit a little more perfectly together right now more than ever — maybe it’s a start.
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There’s a saying that goes: “There is no calamity greater than lavish desires. There is no greater guilt than discontentment. And there is no greater disaster than greed.” In a game of poker, it’s said the winner is the first to rise once he gets his betting sum back, and in chess, oftentimes it is the aggressive players that slaughter pawn after pawn who do not realize their own territory has already been infiltrated by their opponent.
With that being said, you shouldn’t have pushed it. You should have been content with the small yet meaningful progress you and Gojo made. After a night out at Tokyo’s Stellar Sky Garden Lounge, the two of you practically stumble back into the penthouse in an intense haze of lust, desire and a banal and reckless greed. In Satoru’s defense, with the way that you were responding to his touch, tilting your head back to expose the delicate flesh of your neck as he nips on the skin like a man possessed, he thought that, at the very least, you were ready to be intimate with him after what felt like an eternity of you choosing to sleep in the guest room rather than your marital bed.
“H-Hah–S-Satoru, mnhh…”
Satoru expertly wraps his lips around your nipple, suckling at it, his nose tickling your mound. His other hand catches your other tit, squeezing at the tender nub eliciting a languid moan from your lips. “Shhh,” he releases your nipple momentarily, his tongue flicking against the bud. “Let me take care of you, babe…”
His hand trails down to your core, collecting your slick, rubbing up and down your slit, plunging a finger inside. He bites his lip at your warmth, he could already feel your familiar and tight walls. And he wasn’t even inside you yet. The thought of being inside you again sends a shiver of excitement down his spine, and he pushes you onto the soft mattress.
It’s been two years since your last miscarriage, two whole years that you’ve denied him of sexual intimacy. And Satoru doesn’t blame you. Having to endure loss after loss, it was expected that you’d withdraw into yourself, closing everyone off as you healed. But can’t you see he was hurting too? That he has wept too? That he also has his own fair share of damp tear-stained pillows? That he has, on many occasions, locked himself in his C-suite office after having had to endure another sleepless night of your relentless sobs in the other room?
He looks into your hooded eyes, and he sees the future you two have lost: you carrying his baby in your arms, cooing to them as you bounce them gently in your arms – now, Satoru isn’t religious, but that image is his heaven. Burying his length into your cunt, he chokes, letting out a pleasured groan that mixes with your own breathless whine. Soon, the bedroom is filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin as he pounds into you at a desperate pace.
On your end, with every roll of his hips, tears prick your eyes.
This feels wrong.
No, this feels excruciating and terribly hollow. He’s never touched you like this. Sex with Satoru was always passionate, and loving. His hands would always intertwine with yours as he catches your lips in a searing kiss. He’s never like this. His captivating sapphire eyes held a loneliness to them.
As he’s bullying your cunt, you could feel yourself sinking into oblivion.
“Aah–” Satoru groans softly, his forehead pressed against your shoulder as looking at you was so painful for him right now. He doesn’t want to hate you, but he seems unable to love you all the same. What should he do? What can he do?
Suddenly, as he’s approaching his high, his hips melding into yours a little more forcefully and erratically, a dam of tears bursts wide open and you push back against him.
“Mm…’m getting close–ngh—gonna make you a mommy again, all round with my baby, you like that huh?” Satoru lifts your legs to his shoulders, thrusting into your weeping pussy, oblivious to the turmoil in your head. Two seconds ago, you wanted this. Now, you feel like you were gonna be sick at his ramblings of getting you pregnant again.
Fuck. You can’t do that anymore: getting pregnant and being led to believe that by some miracle, you’ll carry to term. Please just make it end.
“Satoru, d-don’t–ngh–p-please stop–”
“Shhh, ah…Y/N…gonna cum…gonna give you my baby—agh–”
He doesn’t seem to hear you. No, he pretends not to hear you outrightly rejecting him.
On your end, you felt like you were dying, with the overwhelming self-loathing in your heart, you couldn't even see Satoru’s desperate effort to restore the normal intimacy you two shared during the early parts of your marriage. But you didn’t care. Satoru didn’t deserve to make love to someone who’s already gone, to stick around for someone who can’t give him the happiness he deserves.
“Satoru, PLEASE STOP!”
“Fuck!” Satoru pulls out mid-thrust. Your heart clenches when he looks like he’s been slapped right across the face. He hastily finishes himself off and upon his release, he groans in frustration. He should have known you’d be this way. And fuck, he was angry at you. He was angry at himself for stupidly hoping that things were gonna get better. “You’re impossible!” he fumed, already pulling on his clothes, ready to abandon you.
“Satoru, wait! Where are you going?!” you pull the blanket to your chest, draping yourself as you follow him to the door.
“Anywhere! Anywhere but here!”
“You’ve never been here!” You accuse him without thinking and instant regret overruns you when Satoru lets out a scoff of disbelief. “Satoru, wait, I’m sorry!”
“Never?” Satoru’s jaw tenses. “What do you mean I wasn’t here?” He’s on the edge of losing it completely now. You had some nerve accusing him of that when he had to pick up the pieces — your pieces, the pieces of this shattered marriage. “Say it again, Y/N. Tell me exactly how I was never here.”
It was wrong of you to say that.
Painful memories begin flashing into your mind like a tragic montage: the uneaten and cold tray of food Satoru would leave outside the guest bedroom for you on the hardest and loneliest days of your life, the many instances he’s had to coax you to get out of bed by taking you to the places the two of you used to love, the countless nights he’s had to hold you, staying awake to hush you when you wake up sobbing from another nightmare.
“Satoru, no, I–I didn’t mean…that…”
He turns around to look you in the eyes, rage seeping through his usually calm ocean orbs. “You didn’t mean that? You sure sounded like you did!” He takes a step towards you, and you inch backwards, drawing your gaze to your feet in shame. “It’s fucking amazing how you don’t ‘mean to’ do anything! You didn’t mean to stand me up during our anniversary date last year too, the same way you didn’t mean to start sleeping in the guest bedroom every night–”
You flinch at the accusation dripping from his voice as he unloads all his heartache on you. “Stop…please stop–”
“And let me guess you didn’t mean to lose our children too!”
Your hand connects with his cheek and Satoru is stunned. Not at your slap. But at the vile words that just left his throat. He stares at you in shock, guilt written all over his face.
“Don’t you dare bring our children into this. You think this has been easy on me? Feeling a little life grow everyday in your womb only for them to just…be gone…one day when you wake up? You don’t know how difficult it is to lose a child!”
“And you don’t know how difficult it is to lose your wife!” Satoru retorts, his voice thick with exhaustion.
His eyes bear the scars of your shared heartbreak. He knows you’ve been struggling. Truly he does. And he wants nothing more than to take all your pain away from you, to spare you from the hell that you’ve been unfairly sentenced to. But why can’t you realize that you aren’t the only wounded party here?
“And you know what hurts the most?” His eyes gleamed with unshed tears, his voice cracking mid-sentence.
His gaze falls to the locket that held a small sonogram picture of your would have been fourth child which you wore everyday.
“I lost our children too. I grieved for them too. But you…you’re still alive but I’m already grieving for you like I've already lost you.”
Satoru doesn’t return to the bedroom again that night and the next morning, you both awake to a wedding portrait that now. sheltered a heartbroken wife’s teardrop stains, and a box full of baby items for disposal packed by a husband who has now, by all intents and purposes, given up.
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Satoru slips out to the five star hotel's rooftop for some much needed air. Hopefully none of these pesky journalists saw him on his way here. But that probably just comes with the whole experience of celebrating the conglomerate's tenth anniversary. He finds you in the garden, seated on a bench next to a potted plant. Satoru approaches you quietly, sitting down next to you. "I thought I'd find you up here."
"Hmm? Yeah, it was starting to feel suffocating in there," you chuckled. "I think it was nice of you to choose the Tokyo Children's Hospital as this year's beneficiary," you nudge him lovingly. You were already excited for the upcoming courtesy visit and celebratory turnover of the 20 million yen donation from the Gojo clan's multinational conglomerate.
Satoru plants a loving kiss on your temple, pulling you close to his form, his head resting atop yours. It's been a year since you've gotten married and already, people were already getting antsy for a baby, but maybe none as anxious as your families who are more than excited to have a new little one running around their respective estates. "So, walk me through the event next week. What have you got planned?" he asks you candidly about your plans for the turnover.
"Well, I already contacted a catering company for the children's party, oh and of course, there'll be games and storytelling sessions," you share eagerly. "I even hired a magician and facepainter!"
Satoru hums at your plans. "Of course, it can't be a children's party without some facepainting action."
"You know facepainting isn't limited to children," you flash him an impish grin. Understanding the implication of your words, Satoru immediately shakes his head in adamant refusal. "Oh come on, as the Gojo Group of Companies's chairman, you have to lead by example, right?"
"They aren't my employees!" Satoru laughs. Before you could even pull your signature pout, he pecks your cheek. "But if that's what my wife wants, then, I'll have them paint my pretty white hair too."
You laugh along with him, sighing contentedly at this peaceful moment. "Hey, Satoru? Why don't we...make them a part of the permanent beneficiary list?" you suggest quietly. "I mean, we still have some room for them, right?"
Satoru contemplates the possibility of having the Tokyo Children's Hospital as a permanent beneficiary of the Gojo Group, yet, he agrees nonetheless. "You know what? I don't see why not, I'll be sure to talk to PR about it," he smiles softly. "We can even make it a tradition - having a fun get-together with the kids and their parents." Satoru's heart swells at the idea of one day bringing your own child along to these events, teaching them the importance of being altruistic and compassionate to others. You nod, seemingly sharing his thoughts. "Maybe someday, we can bring our own little one into the mix."
You nod against Satoru's warm embrace with a wistful smile dancing on your lips. "I'd like that. Logistically, it'd be faster for the two of us to distribute the goodie bags if we had an extra little pair of hands."
"It's a plan then," Satoru concurs joyfully.
——————
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earthtooz · 7 months ago
Note
earth do you have any spare alhaitham thoughts 🥺 thinking ab him a little extra hard tonight 😵
nothing but fluff, reader and al-haitham are engaged, so much banter.
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"What do you think about inviting Nahida to our wedding?"
Al-Haitham looks at you incredulously, blinking slowly to register your question. You know a lengthy discussion is imminent when he uncrosses his leg, a habit of his whenever he needs to prepare for a conversation that requires most of his attention.
"You don't mean Lesser Lord Kusanali, do you?" He asks and you nod, as if it is typical to invite a god to one's wedding. "Dear, do you understand what you are asking right now?"
"I do," you sit down beside him, Zaytun peach in one hand and a small knife in the other, cutting up slices that you feed him.
"Then do you realise how ludicrous your question is?"
"I think you are overcomplicating it."
His book snaps shut. "Am I? Or is it appropriate because you just suggested inviting an archon to our very ordinary wedding?"
"You still think you're ordinary after overthrowing a corrupt government and being promoted by said archon?"
"You're crazy," Al-Haitham murmurs, shaking his head with an affectionate smile, one that he always likes to conceal by pressing a kiss to your cheek.
You poke his side gently. "Then we are cut from the same cloth."
"That does not diminish your madness."
Still, you persist. "Well, you haven't said anything in response to my suggestion."
"I called you crazy."
"You haven't said anything I want to hear."
Once again, he sighs, but the noise is too airy to hold any true malice. "Even if I reject your idea, you would personally go to the Sanctuary of Surasthana and deliver the invite yourself."
Instead of answering, you merely feed him another slice of the Zaytun peach, smile growing more and more mischievous.
There is a reason Al-Haitham wants to spend the rest of his life with you. The bouts of delightful juvenility paints endless blotches of colour on his plain canvas, carving a certain feeling of warmth and admiration in his chest that no one else has managed to recreate.
No one compares to you, and he's certain no one ever will because even after all these years of knowing and loving you, every moment he spends with you is as priceless as divine knowledge. Even when you ask ridiculous questions that perplex him greatly.
"How do you even deliver messages to the Sanctuary of Surasthana?" You wonder.
A kiss to your temple halts your thinking. "Let's find out another time. How did this idea of inviting Nahida spring about?"
You shrug. "I was merely thinking back. She's always been so thoughtful and kind to her subjects, even when the Akademiya hid her from us. Then the idea of inviting her made itself quite at home."
"I see," he hums. "Ever so thoughtful."
"Maybe it's a good omen for our partnership to invite an archon. She won't have to bring a present, her presence alone is enough."
Al-Haitham huffs. "My faith in our relationship exceeds that of a good omen, but I agree."
"Aww, you love me that much?"
"Do you still doubt me?"
"Still?" You parrot. "Darling, I've never doubted you."
"I'd like to contest that. Remember when you were vehemently against me resigning as the Acting Grand Sage?"
You feed him another slice. "It gave me bragging rights! Who else could claim that their hot boyfriend-now-fiancé was the Grand Sage?"
"So you prefer when I'm away at the Akademiya working tirelessly from dawn to dusk?"
"Well, no," you set the knife and pit of the peach down before throwing your arms around his neck, pressing yourself close to him. "I prefer having you all to myself."
Al-Haitham huffs triumphantly and you stay pressed close to him for a while, watching as he returns to his novel. He flips back to his exact page despite the lack of a bookmark.
"I'll be sure to send the invite to Nahida tomorrow."
"Alright."
Two days later, you wake to a message written in beautifully precise handwriting on Al-Haitham's blackboard.
'Can Wanderer be invited too? - Nahida'
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© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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on-my-vigilante-sht · 9 days ago
Text
Forgiveness
Cregan Stark x Reader
Summary: Cregan begs for his wife’s forgiveness when he accidentally injures her.
Warning: no use of y/n, dirty talk/mentions of smut, injuries, i'm pretty sure that's it
Word Count: 2.3k
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Cregan sat in his study, buried in letters and decrees that claimed they required the utmost attention. They all said that even if they truly did not require that level of priority. However, everyone wanted their Lord’s approval and signature, leaving him to sort through what was a priority and what could wait. In some ways he missed the war, at least he was fighting and protecting his realm then. He felt like a true lord then. Now, he may as well be a bureaucrat locked in some tower of the Red Keep, imprisoned by his own position.
As he moved on to some sort of land dispute, there was a harsh knock on his door. “Enter,” he called, not even looking up.
The large, heavy door swung open, revealing a guard. “Lady Stark, my lord,” he announced.
Interest piqued, Cregan looked up just in time to see the guard step aside, revealing his lady wife. Without having to be dismissed, the man exited, shutting the door behind him to leave the couple alone.
“I haven’t seen you all day,” his wife explained her presence, approaching his desk.
For the first time that day, the Warden of the North took a break from his work, setting his quill down and leaning back in his seat. Sparing a glance out the window, he realized that it was dark. It had only been mid-afternoon when he sat down to begin his bureaucratic duties. “I suppose you’re right,” he confirmed, recalling that he had gently pressed a kiss against his sleeping wife’s head when he woke before disappearing for the day.
Opening his arms, he invited her to approach. Taking his cue, the lady of the north took a seat on his lap, easily slotting into his body. It was a well known fact that the Lord and Lady of Winterfell were unusually affectionate for a pairing of such high status. Typically, love was reserved for those who did not marry for status, or for extramarital affairs. But it seemed the Stark couple had been quite lucky in their match.
“The day has ended, we should go to bed,” Cregan’s wife asked in a soft voice, her fingers trailing through the hair she swept away from his face.
He smiled, finding his tension soothed by her mere presence. “Aye, I wish that I could but this has to be done,” he sighed, gesturing to his desk still covered in documents.
Observing all the work, the lady sighed, leaning her head against her husband’s for a moment. “But you, my lord, are the Warden of the North. Who is to tell you when things must be done?” she asked suggestively, knowing what calling him ‘my lord,’ did to her husband.
Cregan let out the faintest growl, wanting to dive into his wife right there but he restrained himself. “Why I thought that was your job,” he teased.
Fortunately, she laughed, throwing her head back in a way that made Cregan want to mark her neck in the way he so loved. “Please,” she dismissed, “I can hardly get my own husband into bed. How can I tell you what to do?”
He chuckled. “Fortunately for no one, my discipline is strong enough to withstand your temptations. Although, I admit they are barely capable. I swear to you,” he began, gently lifting his wife from his lap, “that I will be in our chambers within the next hour,” he said, eyes flickering to the candle on his desk that was nearly at its end. “I expect you to be ready for me,” he uttered darkly.
His wife blushed like it was their wedding night again, despite hearing far more vulgar things from her husband. “And how shall you expect me?” she asked teasingly.
Cregan bit his lip. As adorable as he found his wife when she was shy and coy at the mere inclination of sex, he loved when she was daring and teasing. He thought for a moment, staying silent for longer than necessary only to create an illusion for his wife. “Naked. On our bed. With your fingers between your legs.”
~
Once again Cregan found himself locked away in his office, buried in endless paperwork. He was deeply entrenched in some matter of land disputes when the door suddenly burst open. Cregan looked up in astonishment, his mouth open to reprimand them for their dismissal of protocol.
“My apologies, my lord,” the out of breath guard interrupted. “But a wildling has attempted to enter Winterfell. Says he wants to be a southerner, like us.”
Cregan quirked a brow, utterly confused as to why this required so much urgency and why someone had dared call him a southerner. “And why does this require so much urgency that you have broken protocol?”
“The gatesmaster believes this may be some sort of ruse to breach the walls of Winterfell.”
Cregan nodded, standing up. As he exited his office, he found a group of guards standing outside, seemingly waiting to follow them outside. He did not say anything about the waste of manpower at his door but headed outside. “Which gate was it?” he asked.
“The north gate,” his guard answered.
Nodding, the Warden of the North headed out to the northern courtyard. As he exited the walls of the keep, he intended to greet the gatesmaster who stood talking to another sentry. But catching sight of the supposed wildling made him freeze. Standing there by the gate was a disheveled man, looking as if he had spent his entire life in the woods. And talking to him, unguarded, was the Lady of Winterfell.
Cregan abandoned his path towards his gatemaster to get his wife away from the wildling. Who would have possibly thought it would be wise to leave both the wildling and his wife unguarded, even more so to let them meet? He was not thinking clearly as he reached the pair, grabbing his wife’s arm to wrench her away from the vile man before her. He must have pulled harder than intended because she let out a yelp as he did so. Still, he did not comprehend it as he whirled around to face his men, still clutching her arm.
“Who left them unguarded?” he demanded, his voice booming so loud it silenced the entire courtyard. He watched in rage as the crowd of men all sent glances to one another.
The spell was only broken by his wife’s cry. “Cregan, you’re hurting me,” he heard his wife whimper. Finally looking at her, he realized just how tightly he was gripping her arm. He relaxed his grip a bit, but still held on tight enough to push her so she stood in front of him, making himself a barrier between her and the wildling. She let out another cry as he jerked her, her free hand reaching for the hand clutched around her arm. She grabbed his wrist in a futile attempt to get him to let go. “Cregan, let go,” she cried again.
Seeing his wife’s face twisted in pain, the Lord of Winterfell realized what he had done. Quickly, he released his grasp, her arm falling into her own grasp. The cold air that whipped through Winterfell became biting as Cregan watched his wife cradle her arm against her chest, backing away from him as if he were the threat. As she backed up toward a guard, gesturing for him to escort her away, Cregan’s heart broke as he realized that in that moment, she felt safer with a guard than with him.
His jaw clenched as he leveled a glare to the men that had followed him, realizing that they had all run to tell him what was happening rather than do their actual jobs. He turned to his gatesmaster who had approached them by now, the few guards who had remained now taking hold of the wildling. “Take him to the dungeons I will deal with him later,” he gestured to the potential threat. “As to this lot, see to it they have nights watch for the next week.” He leveled one last glare at the group of men before heading back inside, intent on finding his wife.
Cregan was already planning his apology to his wife as he reached the hall that housed their chambers. As he walked down the hall, the guard that had escorted her earlier exited his chambers before taking his post just outside the door, sparking some level of unfounded jealousy.
As Cregan walked up to the door, the guard gave him a slight bow. “My lord,” he greeted. He did not reply, simply continuing toward the door, waiting for the guard to open it. But rather, he just spoke again, “The lady has asked me to inform you that she wishes to be left alone.”
Cregan stopped, looking incredulously at the guard. His words stung to hear. He had sworn an oath to protect his wife and had promised her parents that he would be a good husband and never hurt her. Yet here he stood, being barred from his wife by her own wish, with a man of his employ guarding her against him. The sentry looked deeply uncomfortable under his lord’s glare. He truly wanted to honor the wishes of his liege lady but her husband’s orders came first. Reluctantly he reached over, opening the door for the Lord of Winterfell.
Satisfied with his influence, Cregan strolled into his chambers, intending to begin the apology when he stopped short upon seeing the room empty. He turned to look at the guard as if to ask where his wife was. “Some maids escorted her to the maesters,” he informed nervously.
Cregan leveled yet another glare at the man before clenching his jaw and exiting the room, storming towards the maester. As the lord of Winterfell left, his guard briefly considered alternative employment.
Although Cregan had stormed towards the maester’s turret throughout Winterfell, he slowed as he approached the structure. Despite the guards posted outside holding the door open for him, he paused before the building, taking a breath. His wife’s scared expression flashed through his mind and that was a sight he never wanted to see again, yet he knew he would never forget it. The image made all the rage evaporate from him as he slowly entered the turret.
Ascending the stairs, he reached the healing room that he had often visited as a boy. Always having his training injuries and general wounds of boyhood treated here. Sat on the bench in only her shift and skirts was Cregan’s wife, having her arm bandaged in a way that held it to her chest, just as she had chosen to hold it.
Maester Kennet noticed the lord first, slowly halting his movements to look at the man. His wife turned to see the reason for the maester’s pause. She turned, finding her husband standing at the top of the stairs looking like a hollow version of himself. His face looked crestfallen as if he were informing them of a death.
Before she could snub him with a turned gaze, Cregan fell to a knee, his head bowed. “My lady, I truly do wish to apologize to you. I truly never meant to harm you,” he began, his voice dripping with a desire to be believed. “I swore an oath to protect you, as that was all I was trying to do. But instead, I hurt you, and that is a failure I will carry with me until my grave. I understand if you are unable to forgive me, I was being brash and absentminded. But all I ask is that I may be near you.” He looked up slowly, meeting his wife’s gaze. He could not read anything from it aside from pain.
Cregan had felt the pain of wounds of war before, but nothing hurt more than when his wife turned to look at Maester Kennet. But she only whispered a dismissal before looking back to her husband again. Cregan stood eagerly as the man’s hands gently left his wife’s shoulder before he approached his lord. The aging man paused beside Cregan, patting his shoulder momentarily before continuing down the stairs, leaving the couple in privacy.
Cautiously, Cregan approached his lady, once again crouching before her. “I truly am sorry,” he repeated. His wife said nothing as her gaze fell to her lap. But she turned her non-bound hand over in her lap, inviting his hand in hers. Cregan took it eagerly, his other hand going to her face to brush her hair aside as he gently grasped it. “I love you,” he breathed.
“I love you too,” she cried, falling into him. Cregan caught her, careful of her shoulder as he held her close, even pressing a kiss to the injured area as if promising to care for her.
He continued to hold her and continued to apologize. “I truly did not intend to harm you. I just saw you standing with that wildling, unguarded and all I knew was that I had to get you away from him.”
A comforting hand in his hair soothed him, halting his words. “I know,” she assured. “Maester Kennet explained why you were so upset. I apologize for not being more cautious. I just felt he was being treated unjustly.”
Cregan pulled away only enough to look at his wife, nodding in understanding. “You have a large heart,” he commended. “And it is my job to protect it. Sometimes I get carried away with it.”
The lady smiled, “Well I don’t suppose I can fault you for that.”
Cregan smiled at her forgiveness, once again holding her close. With all forgiven, he gained a teasing lilt to his voice. “Did you send that guard to our chambers to intentionally mislead me?”
“Perhaps,” she agreed, the teasing lilt finding her voice as well. But she attempted to distract from it with a stroke against his back. “I was quite irritated with you.” Cregan just chucked, the rumble of his laugh soothing his wife as they fell back into normalcy.
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jobean12-blog · 2 months ago
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Easy to Fall
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader
Word Count: 2.3K
Summary: You and Bucky have been dating for a while but the tension is building and you both feel you’re ready for the next step.
Author’s Note: Love a shy and unsure Bucky! Especially when he finds his way and is just 🫠🤭and special thanks to Sam for his encouragement hehe 😏thank you all for reading! Much love always❤️❤️❤️ thank you lovely Daisy @firefly-graphics for the divider🥰
Warnings: soft sweetness, fluff, fun, flirting, tension, lots of kisses, fingering, some oral (f rec), p in v, smut
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“Maybe you should have a drink or somethin’ before she comes over?”
At Sam’s sincere but pointless suggestion Bucky’s eyes lift from his phone and he just stares wide eyed.
“I wish that would help,” he says. “Maybe I should just cancel.”
“Buck,” Sam says, stepping around the kitchen island. “Don’t. You know you’ll kick yourself if you do that. You really like this girl. And it’s not the first time you’re hanging out. Why are you so nervous this time around?”
“That’s exactly it though. I really like this girl…”
Sam’s eyebrows meet his hairline. “And?”
“I’m gonna fuck it up. Things are good…really good and I think we’re ready…”
Bucky’s words trail off and Sam remains silent, expression still unsure.
“Aw Wilson come on,” Bucky says with exasperation.
At Sam’s continued silence Bucky turns spins around and runs a hand through his hair.
“We haven’t…but I think…”
When Bucky turns to face Sam again the realization finally hits. “Oh. OH!” Sam exclaims.
Bucky let’s out a defeated sigh.
Sam waves him off. “You won’t fuck it up. Just relax and have fun. Enjoy each other. Let things happen…organically.”
Now Bucky laughs. “Organically or…?”
“You said it. Not me,” Sam chuckles with his hands up in defense.
After a beat of silence and unspoken camaraderie Bucky smiles.
“She’ll be here in half an hour. Get out.”
“And there’s the Barnes I know!” Sam grins as he grabs his jacket. “Good luck!”
“Want something to drink doll?” Bucky calls out over his shoulder as you take off your shoes and drop your bag to the floor.
“I’ve got beer, water…juice boxes…”
You come up behind him in the kitchen, pressing yourself to his back and looking under his arm into the fridge.
“You have…juice boxes?”
He shrugs, leaning into you, discreetly inhaling a whiff of your scent, and closing his eyes.
“Buck? Juice boxes?”
He blinks, looking back down into the fridge and focusing on the cold air hitting his face.
“I took Mrs. Adams food shopping last night and she always insists on getting me snacks.”
“You have the nicest neighbors! Mrs. Adams is my favorite of the old ladies in your building!”
“We can invite her to our wedding then,” he teases.
You laugh and lean up to kiss his cheek. “One juice box please.”
“She also got me Oreos, ice cream and tried to get me to buy condoms when I told her I had a hot date with you.”
“Does she think you were going to get lucky tonight?”
“She likes me to be prepared,” he says lightly.
“And well stocked on snacks apparently,” you giggle.
He grabs the juice boxes and Oreos and points to the living room.
“Me. You. A scary movie.”
“I barely got through the last one,” you sigh defeatedly.
“But you did,” he says. “And remember, you can hide in my hoodie again.”
“Probably the best idea,” you say.
You sit down next to each other, arms and thighs touching, the feel burning through your clothes.
The crinkle of your straw wrapper crackles in the air and Bucky turns to you, watching as you cheekily puncture the top of the box and slide the straw into the side of your mouth.
“I love fruit punch.”
He keeps watching, his gaze fixated on your lips. Finally, he looks away from your mouth and back to the television.
“I like them all,” he says. “Sugar.”
He starts the movie, and you settle back against the couch cushions, grabbing for an Oreo. The beginning scene lights up the screen and the suspense builds almost immediately. Something jumps out and Bucky flinches and fumbles his Oreo.
“You okay there, Barnes?” you ask with a smirk. “Even I knew that was coming.”
“My mind was occupied. Lost my focus.”
You shake your head and look back at the screen. “Do I want to know?”
“Probably. But I’m not tellin’ ya.”
The movie continues and you inch closer to him until you’re resting under his arm and against his chest. Your face is half hidden in his hoodie and you’ve got a death grip on his wrist, holding it to keep his hand in front of your eyes.
“You could use your own hand you know,” he jokes.
“But yours is so much bigger!” you whine and tense when you hear the creepy music come to a crescendo.
Before anything jumps out in the movie Bucky sneakily moves his free hand toward you then shouts and pokes you in the side.
You scream and jump up.
“OH MY GOD! You did not just do that!!!
He smiles sweetly, eyes bright and full of mischief.
You reach for your empty juice box and hurl it at his face. Your eyes widen when he deftly catches it and throws it right back at you, hitting you squarely in the chest.
A beat of silence and stillness passes before you lunge for him, shoving him back on the couch before lifting a pillow and smacking him in the face with it.
Your unrestrained laughter hits him right in the chest, and he’s unprepared for your assault, cough-laughing through a flurry of your fingers digging down and tickling roughly.
He bucks up beneath you, growing more aware of your precarious arrangement of limbs, and advances toward you on the couch, swatting at your hands, and darting his fingers between your arms to tickle your ribs.
With his other hand he grabs a pillow from behind you and uses it to hit you right in the face. You shove at him hard, sending him right off the couch and onto the floor, where you dive on top of him, pinning him down, wrestling in earnest.
You’re laughing and yelling and one of you knocks the containers of Oreos onto the floor and it crumbles under you leg when he rolls you over to hover above, getting the upper hand.
He finds the place on your waist that, when prodded with a long finger, makes you cry out in hysterics.
His fingers dance up your sides and under your shirt, the feel of your warm skin only egging him on until his fingertips brush the lace edge of your bra.
At the same time, you both seem to realize that he’s over you, lying completely on top of you, situated between your legs with his hand up your shirt and, in unison, you both freeze.
You have two tight fistfuls of his shirt in your hands and your eyes travel the slow path from where his hand is hidden up to his face.
Your breath catches and you let your legs slide up over his hips. Your body gives beneath his and he’s suddenly intensely aware of the soft warmth between your legs and the press of your curves against him.
“Doll?” he murmurs.
You suck your bottom lip into your mouth to stop from smiling.
He presses forward, not much but just enough to feel more. Your lips part and you watch a pink blush creep up his neck and onto his cheeks.
“Bucky.”
“Fuck,” he growls, bending and pressing his mouth to your neck as he starts to rock against you.
He nearly comes at the sound you make, soft and restrained.
“Kissing you again is all I could think about since our last date,” he admits as his lips trail along your neck.
“Just kissing?” you ask, nearly breathless.
He smirks and kisses you again. A kiss you feel from the place where you lips meet to the tips of your curling toes.
When he pulls away and sits up you mourn the loss of him, but then he falls back down onto the couch and takes you with him so you’re straddling his lap.
His hand slips between your legs to rub you over your leggings, going slow enough that he can check in with you, his expression soft but his eyes heated.
You tilt your head and brush your lips to his, moaning when he rubs small circles right where you need it.
“I…” he starts, his breathing heavy as he slowly slips his fingers inside your pants.
“Please Bucky.”
It’s all he needs to hear as his fingers stop teasing and dip between your legs, sliding into your panties to where you’re ready and wet.
He takes your hand and holds it over his cock, and rocks into your palm. You can see the shape of him beneath the denim of his jeans, long and pressed against his stomach.
A wave of heat flashes beneath your skin and you grab for the bottom of his shirt, lifting it up and over his head. His mouth meets yours and he drags his teeth over your bottom lip.
His fingers push deeper, and you arch into him, his satisfied hiss swallowed by your mouth. Your hands fall to his jeans, and you work open the button and pull down the zipper, reaching in and wrapping your hand around him.
“Oh god.”
He slumps against the back of the couch and watches, his darkened blue eyes dragging from where you’re touching him to where he’s touching you.
His cock is perfect, just like the rest of him.
“Pants off,” you breathe out. “Please.”
You lift up and wait while he shoves them down his thighs. Before you can sit on his lap again he grabs your hips and pins you in place in front of him, hooking his thumbs into the fabric at your waist and slowly peeling it down your legs.
“Fuck baby doll. Look at you.”
Everything in you catches fire when his fingers slide up the inside of your thigh and he sucks in a breath-you’re skin is wet and glistening-and looks at you like you’re a meal and he’s deciding what to eat first.
He makes a guttural sound, and it vibrates down to your bones when his eyes meet yours. His fingers slide over you, dipping inside and teasing. His other hand smooths along the curve of your ass and he pulls you closer, kissing your stomach and then lower, where he licks softly, his nose a soft brush against your skin.
Your hands fall to his hair, and you tug hard, eliciting a moan from the back of his throat. Your stomach begins to tighten, and you whisper his name, giving his head a light push.
“I want to come with you inside me,” you purr.
He licks his lips and reluctantly leans back against the couch, gripping his cock and calling you closer with a crook of finger then guides you over his lap again.
He leans in and tugs off your shirt, kissing along your collarbone and down to your breasts, teasing your nipple with his teeth and moaning around it.
You sink down slowly, and he sits back against the cushions to watch where he’s disappearing inside you.
“Doll.”
You move over him, slowly.
“Fuck you look incredible.”
His hands settle on your waist, gripping softly but strong enough to keep the rhythm. He kisses you like he still can’t believe he’s doing it, and you adjust the position of your knees and you both gasp as you bottom out, your ass coming to rest on his thighs.
“Oh Bucky,” you moan, pressing your face to his neck while you catch your breath.
His palms smooth along the curve of your spine and down to your waist and he presses his fingers into your hips, rocking you faster then slow again.
“I want you in my bed,” he says through a grunt. “I want to spread you out under me. I want to kiss and feel every inch of you.”
He sits up, nips at your neck before sucking gently. You kiss for what feels like forever and your movements narrow into small rocks forward and back, just feeling him inside you. You try to keep it together when he reaches down, and his thumb starts moving in practiced circles over your clit.
Your hands dig into his hair, steering his mouth back to your breasts and watching as he captures your nipple with his tongue. He bares his teeth, sliding them over the sensitive flesh and you cry out, feeling him twitch inside you.
The tightening in your belly builds and he’s watching you, watching the way you move together and the place where your bodies connect. You follow his gaze and look down, the way the muscles in his stomach clench, where the beads of sweat have collected in the dip where his dog tags lay. You circle your hips, and he groans, tightening his grip where he holds you.
“Fuck baby. Do that again.”
You do, moving over him and using the back of the couch for leverage. He throws his head back.
“I’m so…I’m…” he says between gasps of air.
His fingers return to your clit with renewed enthusiasm and with each rock of your hips and each thrust of his the cord around your spine tightens until his name is spilling from your parted lips.
He presses up into you, hard and fast and over and over until he’s coming with a long, helpless groan against your shoulder.
With such softness it steals your breath, he reaches up and cups the back of your neck, bringing your lips to his and whispering, “stay with me tonight.”
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nightingale-prompts · 2 months ago
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Loving Spirits - Beholder AU- DC x DP (Tim X Danny)
The rest of the series
So Tim and Danny are at an impasse. Life was comfortable. But they weren't progressing.
It wasn't stale, no never. Every day Tim could only guess what was waiting for him when he got home. If Danny was distracted with his blueprints or pouring over star charts. He could be laughing over a mythology book.
Danny had a habit of redecorating, not that Tim minded. The apartment was kind of bare before. Now it felt like he walked into the wrong house everything he came back. Boho, retro-futurism, and maximalism. Each style blended haphazardly. Tim was just glad it wasn't black everywhere. He was cool to let Danny take over the space.
There was currently one little problem. Well, several but one was more glaring than the others. He didn't know how he managed this but Danny didn't know he was a Wayne. He knew who the Waynes were but he spent so much time focused on his job, school, and hobbies he didn't care about gossip. Add that no one could casually approach him without losing their nerves and no one could tell him.
This was working out great for Tim until-
"Tim...you know I've never met your family. You've met mine and I kinda want to know what I'm getting into." Danny half laughed as he moved his rook on the chess board.
Tim panicked. He could tell Danny he was an orphan so he had no family but Danny was dense, not stupid, and knew damn well that Tim had a family. How else would Tim vent about his brothers and praise what siblings he did like? (Duke and Cassandra)
But right now Danny knew that Tim got a great position at Wayne Industries due to nepotism and brains. He also knew that said position meant a lot of late nights and overwork due to how underprepared he was. The latter was a lie to cover up his Red Robin identity
All these things he could use to get at least some sympathy from Danny and only a few compliments.
Tim didn't like lying but it's expected. Who in this family liked lying about their secret identity besides Dick who probably gets off on that sort of thing deep down. Okay, so Tim liked having a secret identity too but that didn't mean he liked lying to Danny. Okay, he would totally be okay with lying if it was easier and had no consequences but there would totally be consequences on a long enough timeline just look at Bruce's relationships.
Well Tim had to bite the bullet this time.
"I don't know. My family can be so busy. And well... I had a bit of a fallout a few years ago with my brothers. I was practically abandoned. That's why I moved out. Sorry...I don't really talk about it. Family dinner night is the most I can stand."
Timothy Drake you absolute fucking coward! That's so cheap! You manipulative little shit!
"Oh...you poor thing. I didn't know it was like that. I promise I won't bring it up unless you want to talk about it." Danny frowned sympathetically bringing up a hand to cradle Tims cheek soothingly.
Like I said, you're a genius, Tim! Greatest plan you've ever come up with! Absolutely flawless!
***
Danny guessed that Tim side of the family won't be present at the wedding. That's okay but not ideal. That allows Danny to fill up the roles with his side. Youngblood was going to be the ring bearer. Clockwork is the officiate but did Tim want a specific denomination? Danny was sure he could ask any diety to show up for the ceremony.
There was so much planning for these events, years even if he didn't just elope.
Danny just felt bad that they were this deep into their relationship but its really Tim putting in so much effort.
Tim invited Danny into his nest of all things and they are sharing a space.
Nocturne was scandalized when he heard.
"But you're so young! Even Clockwork and I don't share our nests every night!" Nocturne said dramatically pulling out a fan and cooling himself like he heard that Danny was now a fallen woman in Victorian England.
He wasn't wrong though. Ghosts don't often share a nest. It's a sacred and off-limits place of their haunts. Even ancients like Clockwork and Nocturne whose original haunts have long since been lost to time (ehehe) had their own domains in the infinite realms and were careful about crossing into them carelessly so they don't muddle them.
Nests are charged with so much of your own energy, that letting them be tainted by another's energy was an uncomfortable idea. There was so much vulnerability in feeling exposed like that.
Thankfully, Tim hasn't asked them to share a room. Danny wasn't quite sure he could handle it without panicking.
Clockwork wasn't happy either witht he news.
"Moving into his nest is one thing. I respect the boldness but he hasn't even bonded with you." Clockwork was traditional at his heart but it all came from a good place. "When I claimed Nocturne as mine I at least -"
Danny nodded but tuned out the rest of the lecture.
"The future is now old man!" That was all Danny could think.
Seriously Danny was not listening. All he could hear were the butterflies in his stomach and sappy love songs.
But now Tim had proposed! That changed everything.
He asked Danny to stay by his side forever! It was a promise at that. There was nothing more binding. All they needed now was to make it official legally and get bonded.
But still, Danny would like to announce it to both their families. Although Danny hasn't told Vlad because he'd try to chase Tim off again. Seriously, ever since Danny "accidentally switched his original insane and corrupted Vlad for the alternate future non-ghost side redeemed Vlad he had been the ideal godfather. But the new Vlad was overbearing in his own way. How Dani survived is a mystery with a dad like that. Vlad was too ambitious right now and was discussing bringing Dan back to hopefully fix him. Vlad's ghost half made from his hate, anger, isolation, and obsession was to blame along with Danny's unresolved grief and fear of himself. That created Dan.
If the plan goes through Danny has to worry about more then just the wedding planning.
Danny already had so much on his plate. He needed to resolve the issue with the ecto pits soon. He had been getting complaints from the Infinite Realm residents. Being the high prince meant plumbing issues like this fall on him to resolve.
It's all so exhausting. But Danny can't help.but feel like he forgot something.
...Must not be important then.
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reiderwriter · 1 year ago
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More Than Words
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female BAU!Reader
Requested: yes
Summary: After telling a white lie to your family about your relationship status, your forced to beg your coworker Spencer to pretend to be your boyfriend for a weekend wedding.
Warnings: Light smut at the end, penetrative sex, creampie, mentions of Spencer's childhood.
A/N: Thank you for the request on this one! Ever since I rewatched Season 7 and saw Spencer dancing with everyone at JJ's wedding I've been thinking non-stop about him just holding you close like that and I'm going to shut up now because 8k words of that is more than enough lmao.
You can find my masterlist here, and I just started posting all my stuff on AO3 as well, so if you prefer to read there, check it out!
Despite knowing about your brother’s impending nuptials for the last 18 months, it was in the final two-week stretch that you actually started panicking about getting the date that you’d promised them. It was one sweet little white lie that you had made that had just spiraled out of control, but you’d yet to actually manifest the secretive boyfriend who was “very real actually, mom, he’s coming to the wedding actually.”
It was that statement that had sealed your fate, and always one to wear your emotions on your face when you weren’t on a case, it wasn’t long before someone noticed your building anxiety and guilt.
“Okay, spill Y/N. You look like you just witnessed your favorite author kick a puppy or a kitten or something,” Penelope said when you dropped some files off in her room that morning, spinning around on her chair to face you as soon as she caught your reflection in her monitor.
“It’s this wedding I have to go to,” you sighed dramatically, falling into one of the other chairs in the room kept for visitors.
“Want me to help you get out of it?” Penelope offered, patting your hand comfortingly.
“I’m not sure my brother would be too pleased about that, since it’s his wedding and all. My mother would drag me down all the way from here herself if she had to.”
“Okay, so a no-show is a no-go. Then what gives, my sweet avenging angel? There has to be something serious to get you looking all glum.”
You sighed and ran a hand through your hair before straightening up and leaning into Penelope more, creating an air of secrecy.
“Promise you won’t tell?”
“Oh sweetie, if only you knew the secrets these four walls held,” she replied dramatically, pulling a laugh from you.
“Last year, I was so, I don’t know, jealous I guess, of all the attention my brother and his fiancee were getting because of the wedding, and it just felt like every time my mom called me, she would only want to talk about them because of the wedding. I felt left out, and I already live so far away anyway, so it’s hard to have that connection with people back home, so I might have told a small, tiny, inconsequential lie that now actually has consequences?” Your face flushes at the confession, and you can see Penelope trying her best not to blurt out her thoughts, intent on letting you continue.
“I told her I was seeing this guy. He’s amazing, he works in the FBI just like me, and he’s smart, and he takes me on dates to these amazing places, like museums and interesting restaurants and to book fairs. I told her he was handsome and that he looked at me like I put the stars in the night sky, and he just doesn't exist, Penelope. And now I have to disappoint my mother again by turning up to my brother's wedding without a date.”
“Oh sweetheart,” was all she said for a minute, and the sympathetic look on her face made you want to run out of there immediately.
“I know, I know, I need to tell her the truth, but I don’t want to do it at the wedding and spoil her happiness. She loves weddings.”
“And this fake boyfriend is supposed to be your plus-one?” she asked.
“My invitation read ‘To our darling sister and her mystery man,’” you groaned, wondering how you could have been so childish in the first place. You’d acted like any child on a playground would, inventing lies to make yourself seem more important and cooler.
“I think I have the perfect solution for you, angel, but you might not like it,” Penelope grinned from her chair, leaning back and playing with the pen in her hands nefariously as if she’d been waiting for this chance her whole life. You didn’t trust that look, but you had no other option, so you took a deep breath and listened to her plan.
–X–
Three days later, and you were suddenly pacing the hallways with a coffee and a croissant, poised and ready to kidnap an FBI Agent the second he passed you.
At first, you’d laughed at the suggestion she’d made, outlandish as it was. But 72 hours of reflection, and a timely phone call from your mother, and suddenly you were on board and ready to lock on to your target. You stopped pacing when you heard the elevator ding, signaling the arrival of Spencer Reid. You were thankful that his schedule was so regular and timed down to the minute that you had just enough time to ambush him in the hallway before any other member of your team noticed.
“Spencer! Here I bought you coffee and a croissant from that cafe I mentioned a while back,” you panicked, unloading the gifts into his arms quickly, taking him off guard, before checking left and right before pushing him into the nearest empty room and shutting it behind you.
“Good morning to you, too, Y/N. Is there a reason we’re in a closet right now?” he asked, looking down at you with knitted eyebrows.
“Yes,” you gumped, afraid to say anymore.
“Are you going to tell me what the reason is?”
“I need you to be my boyfriend for a weekend,” you finally blurted out.
“You need me to… Just for a weekend?” He looked confused, and you felt your cheeks flame up, as you tried your best to explain the situation for him.
“My brother is getting married in LA this weekend, and I need a date. I told my mom last year that I was in a relationship with a really great guy who also works for the FBI.”
“Oh. So, you broke up with him and don’t want to tell your mom?”
“No, he never existed. Long story, I can explain on the plane, but I really need you to come with me! I’ll pay for everything, and I’ll even get you this coffee and any pastry of your choice every day for a month, please, please, please!” You begged him, so desperate that you were moments away from dropping to your knees and grabbing his leg, refusing to move until he acquiesced. You didn’t have to in the end.
“Oh, sure, I’ll go. When did you say it was?” Your jaw fell open in shock, and it took a few seconds to pull yourself back together as you reacted to his words.
“This weekend? The flight is tomorrow at 6 a.m.” You smiled sheepishly as his eyes bugged out of his head.
“This weekend? What were you going to do if I said no?” He laughed at you a little, taking a sip of the coffee you bought him.
“Honestly? Plan B was to cry, and plan C was to kill off my mystery man in a freak accident.”
“Wow, we just started fake dating and you’re already trying to bump me off.” His smile made you burn hotter than before, as you playfully hit his arm in response.
“Stop saying we’re dating. I pulled you in here to ask you privately because I didn’t want weird rumors circulating in the office,” you pouted.
“Then you better let me out of the closet, Y/N, before people think we’re doing something we shouldn’t be. At least three people saw you drag me in here, you know.”
With that, you rush to open the door and run out, shouting a reminder back at him.
“Just be ready, okay. I’ll see you at the airport at 6 a.m.”
–X–
The flight, despite being ridiculously long, was altogether quite pleasant, and you made it back to California in one piece, Spencer trailing behind you like a lost puppy for a while, letting you take up the role of “airport dad” as you guided him through the airport and to the hotel where the wedding was being held.
“So what’s our cover story?” He asked in the taxi on the way there, breaking the comfortable silence.
“What cover story?” you asked, looking up at him from your phone, still focused on just getting to the destination.
“Where did we meet, how long have we been dating, how much do they know about me?” He listed off the possible questions that his parents were absolutely going to interrogate him with soon. “I need to prepare so we don’t get caught out, right?”
“Oh, right. Based on what I told them, we met at work and we’ve been seeing each other casually for about a year now. I didn’t give them a name yet, which annoys my mom to no end, but I was always pretty private as a child so she didn’t find it all that suspicious. Other than that, they don’t know that much about my mystery boyfriend apart from the things we’ve done together.” He listened attentively as you spoke, taking each of your words in and committing them to memory.
“What was our first date?” He asked.
“Coffee shop. That place I got you the coffee from earlier, it’s called Flondon. I’m a regular there, so it made sense to use it in my story.”
“What else have we done together?”
“There was a book fair in New York a few months back that we, uh, spent the weekend at. You surprised me for my birthday with the tickets.”
“Wow, so I’m a really great boyfriend then.” He joked a little, and you let out another groan of annoyance at his teasing. You didn’t get the chance to finish your conversation though, as the taxi finally pulled up to the hotel.
You climbed out of the taxi after paying the driver, Spencer having already left to grab your bags, before walking into the foyer of the hotel.
“Y/N, just one last thing before we go in,” he stopped you at the door, grabbing you by the arm gently. “Are we… the, um. Hotels tend to get booked up pretty early for weddings, and I’m sure your family will be suspicious if we don’t share a room so…”
He didn’t have to finish voicing his thoughts before you were cursing, not having made the connection before.
“Shit, you’re right. My brother made the booking for me months ago. We just have to go in and get the room key but I totally forgot… It’s fine, right? We’ve roomed together on cases, haven’t we?” You asked, looking up at him.
“No, we haven’t. 67% of our motel bookings allow for single occupation rooms for Agents, I end up sharing a room with Morgan for 15% of overnight stays where double occupation is necessary, Hotch for another 17%, and the remaining 1% is made up of outliers where I had to share with Rossi or Prentiss, but we…we haven’t shared before.” He gestured between the two of you for a moment there, letting the facts sit with you.
“Spencer, it’s okay with me, is it okay with you? I understand if you’re not comfortable with it. We can just turn around now if you want.”
“No, no it’s totally fine. I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable with it. Morgan says I snore, so I guess I’m not the best roommate in the world.” He smiled at you then, reassuringly, and moved his hand down your arm until it reached your hand.
You looked down at where his hand had entwined with yours and your heart gave a little jolt. Spencer didn’t like physical touch, and you knew that. You tried not to initiate any contact with him, despite being a touchy person, but there had been times after particularly tough cases and with close calls where you’d thrown yourself into the nearest person's arms, and he always happened to be near.
But those hugs had been thoughtless, natural reactions to stressful situations and this was intentional, and more importantly, he’d started it.
“Sorry, I just assumed we should get used to, uh, touching each other, I guess? We’re going to be doing it all weekend, you know, might as well start now.” He gave you an awkward closed-lip smile, and you giggled at his awkward explanatory tone. Squeezing his hand a bit, you grabbed your suitcase again in your free hand, and pushed open the door with your shoulder, pulling Spencer in behind you.
The lobby was filled with people arriving for the wedding, and you instantly spotted three cousins and two aunts from across the room, giving them a little smile as you made your way to the reception desk, Spencer right at your side.
“Hi, reservation for Y/N L/N, please.”
“Sister of the groom, right? Your mother asked me to give her a call when you arrived. Please wait one minute.” She handed you your key, and you felt yourself go pale, turning around to Spencer for reassurance.
“Oh god, she’s coming now, what do we do?”
“Y/N, calm down, it’s okay, we knew we were going to have to see your mom tonight at the reception anyways.”
“You’re right. Okay, right. Okay.” You breathed out, as Spencer wrapped his other arm around you, holding you in a closer embrace while keeping your hands locked together.
“One of my aunts is looking at us. She looks like she wants to say something. Oh god, she’s coming over, Spencer act natural,”
“Saying act naturally is actually counter-active-” but he didn’t have time to finish before you had turned to greet the older woman, disentangling yourself from Spencer’s arms as you hugged the woman warmly.
“It’s so good to see you, Y/N, you know how we all worry about you doing that job of yours. The other week we saw you on the news about that tragedy with the young girl…” she trailed off, giving you a worrying look before quickly shifting her gaze to her actual target, Spencer.
“I think I saw you too, young man. You must be Y/N’s boyfriend,” she smiled at him, waiting to hear a response so she could return to the other matrons with the gossip.
“Yeah, nice to meet you, I’m Spencer.” You could tell he was thankful that the woman hadn’t stuck her hand out to shake his, as he positioned himself mostly behind you, keeping his hands occupied by letting one settle on your hip and the other keeping a hold of your suitcase.
“Spencer? Spencer Reid?” You heard your mother before you saw her, turning around in your place to finally see her, as Spencer whipped his head around as well. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s so wonderful to finally meet you.”
Your mother had none of the restraint of your aunt, and unfortunately, you’d inherited your clingy side from her, which is why she immediately swooped in to give Spencer a hug. To his credit, he greeted her warmly as well and didn’t avoid the touch, but he kept it short and polite nonetheless.
“Mom, how did you know…”
“You tell me about your coworkers all the time, I’m just surprised I didn’t work it out sooner. I always said that you talked about that Spencer with a fond tone, you should ask your father, he’ll tell you that I did.” You rolled your eyes at your mother’s words, doing your best to avoid Spencer’s gaze. He’d fallen back into place by your side as you greeted your mother.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you, You know, Y/N has been keeping you as this big secret for the last year, and it’s so nice to see that you’re actually real. You’re here!” She sounded so excited for you that your heart almost broke under the weight of your guilt, knowing that you’d have to come clean at some point after the wedding. As it was, you were already going to have to try really hard to avoid the photographer and videographer throughout the night so you didn’t have to be constantly reminded of your idiocy whenever your mother got the photo albums out,
“Sorry, the two of you are probably exhausted after that flight, right? Go and get yourself unpacked. The rehearsal dinner is at 8 p.m. so we’ll catch up then, sweetheart.” She left in a whirlwind, having deposited you next to the elevators, and left you with no other option but to do exactly as she said, making your way to your space for the weekend.
–X–
The following few hours had been a little awkward, to say the least. You’d awkwardly pulled away from one another in the elevator up to the room, apologizing for invading each other's personal space. The room was a decent size, but still small enough that you’d be constantly tripping up over one another the entire weekend if you weren’t careful.
Reid carefully unpacked his tuxedo when you got into the room, and then quietly informed you that he’d need a shower. You’d unpacked your own things while he did, trying not to listen to the water flowing over his body in the next room. His earlier touch had ignited something in you, and your heart was beating at his every gesture now, something that you were sure it hadn’t done before.
What was it about weddings that made you so open to even the possibility of romance that even someone so off-limits could become the object of your affection?
So you tried not to listen, not to wonder why it was taking the man so long to just take a shower, not to let your mind wander to a place where it was perfectly acceptable to wonder what he looked like in that shower, and you unpacked and organized your things.
“Hey, Y/N, I’m really sorry but I forgot to bring my clothes with me,” he called awkwardly through the door a few minutes after you heard the water turn off, and you turned to the bathroom, not expecting the sight before you.
You’d assumed from the quiet volume of his voice that he was calling from within the bathroom itself, but instead, he stood awkwardly in front of you, a towel wrapped around his waist and torso, held together desperately in one hand.
“Oh shit, sorry, I’ll just turn around, I guess,” you stumbled over the words, dragging your eyes back up to his face as you did so, whipping yourself around to stare ahead of you.
“No, no, it’s my fault. I was so hasty I forgot my outfit for tonight. It’s okay.” You heard him fumble for his clothes and return to the bathroom quickly with another mumbled apology, finally allowing you to let out a deep, almost dreamy sigh, startling yourself. Mentally chastising yourself once again, you finished your organizing and let yourself fall onto the bed in the middle of the room sleepily while you waited for him to come out again.
You must have dozed off a little because you woke with a jolt when you felt a soft touch on your arm. There he was above you, a soft and concerned look on his face as he woke you up as kindly as he could.
“Y/N, it’s 7 p.m. We need to get ready for the rehearsal.” He whispered as if he weren’t too bothered if you didn’t want to go down at all, content to let you sleep. But you forced yourself upright anyways, and nodded at his words, swiftly moving yourself towards the bathroom he had since departed.
“Thanks for waking me, Spence,” You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, gathering your towels and change of clothes before turning back to him. In the four hours you’d apparently been dead to the world, he’d managed to dry his hair, change his clothes, and, from the looks of the book on the bedside table, read through an entire book twice.
He noticed you looking and cleared his throat. “Sorry, you looked so tired I didn’t want to wake you, so I just sat here and read while you got some sleep.”
“It’s okay, Spence. I guess I was pretty tired. I’m gonna go…” you gestured towards the shower and stepped towards it with an awkward smile, not letting him answer before you had closed the door between you and taken a deep breath, setting thoughts of him aside for the night before you focused on getting yourself ready to face your lies.
An hour later, you were making your way back down to the lobby, having received a text from your brother that that was where everyone was gathering before making their way to the dining room. Spencer offered you his arm in the elevator on the way down.
“Here, grab my arm.” He said softly down to you, a sweet smile playing on his lips.
“Oh yeah that makes sense,” you said distractedly, looping your own through his and leaning into him.
“It’ll also stop you from picking your nails,” he joked.
“I don’t pick my nails!”
“You so do. You do it when you’re nervous and when you lie about something. Last month on that case in Chicago when that officer asked for your number, you told him you had a boyfriend and started picking your nails,” he laughed down at you, enjoying your pouting face a bit too much as he profiled you.
“You’re one to talk. The last time a woman asked you out, you started rambling about the linguistic history of the phrase “go out,” in the romantic sense. She stood there for five minutes before she gave up.”
“Wait, when did that happen? I don’t remember any woman trying to ask me out.”
“Then you’re even denser than I realized, Doctor Reid, because they do it constantly.” Your back and forth ended there, though, as the elevator doors finally opened into the lobby. You smoothed out your dress and tried your best to act natural as the two of you made your entrance.
“Y/N! Over here,” you heard your brother and saw him wave at you from the other side of the room, his fiancee next to him receiving guests.
“It’s been so long since I saw my kid sister. Get over here,” he smiled at you, beckoning you over, and you released your hold on Reid to give your brother a warm hug.
“Now who is this kid sister you’re talking about because last I checked you’re only 18 months older than me.”
“18 months, 18 years, all that matters is that I am, in fact, the older one,” he released you from the bear hug and glanced up to Reid, standing awkwardly watching the scene waiting for an invitation to the conversation. “Holy shit, you’re real.”
“Hey! Be nice. This is Spencer, he’s my… he’s my boyfriend, we work together.” You felt your cheeks flame as you introduced the two of them, your brother looking at Spencer through knitted eyebrows, taking on a faux protective stance.
“Spencer, hey. Mom mentioned you were here earlier, but I didn’t think you’d be so gangly… It’s my wedding, and I’ve been told I have to keep all threats to a minimum, but if I see you getting all handsy with my sister, just know that I have a blackbelt in jiu-jitsu.”
“No, you don’t. You have a yellow belt in karate at most, and you got that at age 10.” You laughed at the man.
“And whose fault is that?”
“Oh my god, it’s been almost 20 years, I already apologized!”
“Apologised for what?” Spencer finally managed to butt in, watching your sibling bickering as if it were a tennis match.
“This little rodent,” your brother said, scruffing up your hair as he spoke, “broke my wrist when she was 8 and I was 10.”
“It was self-defense! You were trying to use your karate moves on me and I panicked!”
“And now, you’re a hot-shot FBI Agent and you get to break bad guys wrists all the time.” He finished for you and you laughed, suddenly glad to be back around family.
“So, Spencer, you’re an FBI Agent, too? I thought my mom mentioned something about you being a Doctor earlier.”
“I am. A Doctor. And an FBI Agent, uh, they’re PhD’s not medical degrees, though. Three of them, Math, Chemistry and Engineering. I also have Bachelor's Degrees in Psychology, Philosophy, and Sociology.” He answered, and you looked up at him proudly, taking his hand as you noticed him growing slightly uncomfortable with the attention from your brother.
“Wow,” was all your brother said, until he finished the statement with “All those degrees and my sister was the best you could do, huh?” You punched him in the arm after that, and you felt Spencer physically relax a bit, twinning your fingers with his as you chastised your brother.
“Anyway, thanks for taking the time to come to our, hopefully, lovely wedding, the reception will be starting soon. The dining hall is just through there.” You hugged your brother again, and, with a breath of relief, led Spencer down the hall to the dining hall.
“That went well, I think?” you whispered to him, conspiratorially.
“Your family is nice,” he replied. “Does he always act like that, or is it the wedding spirit possessing him somehow?”
“If you’re referring to my brother, I think he’s probably partaken in a few flutes of champagne already this evening. But yes, he’s always like that. They all like to treat me like a baby when they see me.”
“I think it’s nice. They care about you a lot,” his words were warm, but his eyes were sad, and you remembered what you’d been told of Spencer’s own childhood and felt your heart ache for him. His mom loved him a lot, but Spencer had needed to grow up much too fast. You squeezed his hand, still clasped in yours and before you knew it you were pushing onto your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.
“Thank you, Spencer. For being here,” you said as his now flushed face met yours. You didn’t let him respond though, simply pushing forward into the dining hall, ready to live in the fantasy of your own making for the evening.
–X–
“Spencer, you were amazing!” You giggled, walking down the hall to your room, stumbling slightly in your excitement and haste.
“Those magic tricks? The little babies couldn’t get enough of you,” you spun around, wrapping your arms around the man’s neck and pulling him in close to you, letting him hold you against the door to your room. He laughed a little at your antics as he pulled out the key card.
“Y/N, are you drunk?” he asked, one hand firmly planted on your waist to steady you now.
“No! I’m just happy. And if that happiness was caused by an array of cocktails forced into my hands by distant aunts and cousins who all wanted to know about my absolute catch of a boyfriend, then that is simply secondary to the feeling itself. And furthermore-” He pushed the door behind you in on itself, and your words were cut off by your legs giving out beneath you.
You were so sure you were about to take a tumble to the floor that you shut your eyes tight and braced for an impact that didn’t come. Opening them again slowly, you saw Spencer closer than before, his face mere inches from your own as he held you in an improvised dip, having caught you just before you’d hit the ground.
“Sorry. I… Shit, maybe I am drunk,” you breathed out, not letting your eyes drift from his own, knowing that if you ever considered a glance down at his lips at that moment, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from closing the measly distance separating you.
“You should use the bathroom first,” he told you, but without making any move of his own, stuck in that pose with you as if he was content to stay there for as long as he could hold you. “You should take your make-up off. We have a long day tomorrow, right?”
You were the first one to move, letting your feet find a more solid footing beneath you and twisting up from his grip. His hands didn’t leave your body as you became more upright though, still keeping you in that close embrace.
“Yeah, I should… I should go wash up.” You said, and he nodded, still looking at you with the same intensity as before.
“Spencer, that means you need to move,” you whispered quietly, and he jumped back as soon as the words were out of your mouth.
“Sorry. I’ll just… I’ll just be over there,” he held his hands up in surrender before moving further into the room, leaving you next to the bathroom.
Fifteen minutes later, you emerged from the bathroom and were ready to sleep once again. Thankfully, you of earlier that day had managed to store your pajamas in the bathroom ready for their use. Upon exiting the bathroom, you saw that Spencer was getting ready to sleep too, slacks and a shirt having been replaced by a pair of flannel pants and a very old and beaten-up CalTech sweater, looking perplexedly down at the bed.
“Spence, what’s wrong?”
“We didn’t speak any further about the sleeping arrangements…” he mumbled and you looked at the bed in front of you, still confused at his meaning. “Y/N, we have to share the bed.”
“Oh.” You knew you probably sounded dumb, but after the amount of alcohol thrust upon you that night, that was all you could muster at this point.
“I can sleep on the floor if that makes you feel more comfortable. It’s probably no worse than some of the motel beds we’ve stayed on before,” he offered, but you instantly shook your head.
“No, I dragged you out here, I’m not making you sleep on the floor as well,” you sighed and made your way to the side of the bed you’d slept on earlier, beginning to pull the covers down so you could get in.
“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, perplexed by your somehow contrasting words and actions.
“I’m getting ready for bed. It’s late.” You replied, not looking up at him again, for fear that he’d spot the blush on your face. “You should too,” you continued, patting the other side of the bed, gesturing for him to get in, too.
“Oh.” It was his turn to stand there shell-shocked in the moment, and you almost let out a giggle but held back thinking that would be too much for him to take in at that moment.
“Come on, Spence, I’m tired, I’m sure you’re tired. We’re just sharing a bed, it’s not like you have to marry me after this.” You climbed fully into the bed, making sure that your nightgown covered you decently before pulling the covers up around you. Spencer mumbled something that you didn’t catch, but he acquiesced and climbed in after you. You turned your head over on the pillow to face him, turning onto your side as you watched him turn his head to you as well.
“What?” he smiled, noticing your stare.
“Nothing. Good night, Spence,” you smiled, finally letting your eyes drop closed.
“Good night, Y/N.” He whispered, and the sound of his voice carried you off to sleep.
–X–
You weren’t sure if it was the light streaming in through the window or the rise and fall of a chest that wasn’t your own was the first thing to wake you in the morning, but nonetheless, you woke from the comfortable warmth of sleep and found yourself wrapped around your fake boyfriend.
To be fair to yourself, he was also wrapped around you. Your head had gravitated from your pillow to his chest, his left arm wrapped up and around your back. Your leg had also risen in the night, pulled up over his waist, held in place by his other arm, which was, almost embarrassingly, cradling your ass, pulling you in closer to his core. Unsure about how to go about disentangling yourself, you resigned yourself to just waking the man up.
“Spencer… Spencer,” you whispered, letting the hand that had fallen onto his chest tap him slightly. He stirred a little and then cracked an eye open, looking confused with the situation.
“Y/N, is it time for the wedding?” He asked through half-lidded eyes, evidently wanting nothing more than to fall back into whatever dreams he was having. You shifted uncomfortably in his arms then, suddenly growing stiff in the position you’d probably held for hours, and found your nightgown had risen dangerously high on your body, his hand on your near bare ass.
“No, no, it’s just…” You rolled your hips against his in discomfort, and the movement had his eyes breaking open as he finally took in your positions.
“Shit, I’m….Sorry, I don’t know what happened, I must’ve grabbed you when we were sleeping,” he said, reluctantly slipping his hands away from your body, trailing his hand around your leg, and letting it fall onto his stomach. The movement sent a shiver up your spine, as you finally had enough room to lift your torso up, not quite ready to relinquish the proximity of your entire body yet.
“It’s okay, I think it was probably me who started it in the first place. Those pillows weren’t that comfortable…” you tried to explain, the hand on his chest rubbing slow circles into his skin before you could realize what you were doing.
He pushed himself up into a sitting position then as well, clumsily. With your legs still wrapped around his waist, you had no choice but to move with him, suddenly finding yourself straddling him, the bedsheets suddenly pressed away from your body. If he looked down, he’d see a lot more than you planned for him to see, your panties on clear display as your nightgown twisted itself up into the sheets.
“Shit sorry,” he moaned out again, as you steadied yourself with hands on his shoulders.
“No, it’s okay, I didn’t move quick enough.” You quickly pulled your dress down again, and extracted yourself from the bed, lifting your leg up and off of him and finally pushing off the bed, leaving him sat there.
His hands fell into his lap and you started gathering things around the room, readying yourself for the busy day ahead.
“I have to be in the bridal suite at 11, so we have about… two hours to kill before then. Do you want to grab a shower first, or should I?”
“You first,” he mumbled quickly, before clearing his throat and trying again. “You should go first. You probably have more to do today, right?” You nodded at his words and made your way to the bathroom again. Out of the corner of your eye though, as you let the door close behind you, you watched his hands come up to cradle his flushed face, as he let his head fall back again into the pillow.
–X–
The morning was so busy after that, you barely had any chance to talk to Spencer again. You spent the early afternoon in the bridal suite with the wedding party, welcoming your new sister to the family, then made your way to the aisle space set up outside, checking up on last-minute details and helping to flower girls into position. You weren’t walking down the aisle yourself, but you could see that the extra help was letting the very stressed-out Maid of Honour get some well-needed respite. And more importantly, it stopped your wandering thoughts from letting you fantasize about Spencer.
You’d woken up in bed next to people before, of course, but it had never felt so comfortable. In fact, other people you’d slept with said you were pretty distant in your sleep, choosing to move as far away from physical touch as you could get, but you knew with no doubt that you had been the one to move in first, to touch him first. That he’d pulled you even closer had your heart singing, and you wanted to be wrapped up in him all over again, suddenly desperate to seek him out. So you distracted yourself, not wanting to make any mistakes you would regret when you were no longer wrapped up in your own fantasy.
So you kept your distance as the ceremony started. Then the wedding march was playing, and you were holding back tears as his hand slipped into yours, your head falling onto his shoulder as you watched your brother marry the love of his life.
You kept your distance as you reached the reception hall, watching all the old ladies on both sides fawn over him, asking him questions, and watching from his side as he blushed at the attention. You swept the hair out of his eyes as the couple was announced, and you took your seat for the wedding meal and the speeches, his hand falling to your back to guide you to your chair, pulling it out for you like a true gentleman.
You kept your distance as your new sister tossed the bouquet, and despite your low effort and the ravenous looks of the bridesmaids, it fell neatly into your hands as if it belonged there. You ran excitedly over to him to show him and he lifted you into a hug, caught up in your own excitement.
You kept your distance until you realized you’d not kept your distance at all, physically unable to keep yourself away from the man who had somehow stolen your heart in the middle of the night.
“I know that look,” your brother said, somehow sneaking up on you later into the night as you watched Spencer perform even more of his magic tricks for the smaller guests.
“What look?” you asked, not for one second letting your eyes drift from Spencer.
“You’re in love with him,” he said, taking a swig of the drink in his hand.
“He’s my boyfriend,” you said reflexively, turning to the drinks table behind you and picking up one for yourself.
“No, he isn’t. Or at least he wasn’t before this weekend,” your brother said, as your eyes finally snapped up to him.
“Oh, don’t act all surprised, Miss FBI Profiler. You may be good, but I’ll always be your older brother, and contrary to popular opinion, I do in fact pay attention to things.” You sighed and leaned back against the table.
“How’d you figure it out?”
“You were picking your nails the entire way through the reception dinner when the aunties were asking you about your relationship. You did that when we were younger too, when you tried lying to Mom and Dad about how I broke my wrist. Doesn’t take two PhD’s to figure that out.”
“Three.”
“Three what?”
“Three PhDs. He has three of them.” You sighed dreamily and ran a stressed hand through your head.
“He’s just my coworker. I didn’t want to disappoint Mom by coming alone after telling her all those stories, but now…” You tried to explain yourself but words were escaping you in that moment.
“You should tell him, trust me. He definitely feels the same.”
“How are you so confident about that? How did you manage to end up with all of the confidence between the two of us, when I can barely work up the courage to tell my own mother I’m still single?”
“Y/N, look at me. You got the brains, I had to have something. And no man flies to the opposite side of the country on a few day's notice for a girl who is just a friend, okay? That’s more logic than confidence, and that’s supposed to be your strong suit.”
You considered his words for a second, turning back to look at Spencer. Evidently, he’d finished his magic show and was beginning to say goodbye to the children, but he felt your eyes on him somehow and met your gaze. He brought his hand up into a shy wave before a little girl grabbed his attention again, and he looked at her seriously, nodding along to each word she was saying.
“Fuck, what do I do, I’m not good with… any of this.” You turned back to your brother, but he’d left you there, stranded in your own thoughts as you let yourself hope, let your brain dream that one day this would be your wedding and the man by your side would be Spencer Reid.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the bride and groom request the presence of all the couples on the dancefloor for this next song.” You saw your brother again, next to his wife, whispering his explanations in his ear as she turned to look at you and winked as well. God, they were going to be a force to be reckoned with together now, you thought, as people started pushing past you to make their way to the dancefloor.
You recognized the song of course, and it was almost so on the nose you almost rolled your eyes. More Than Words by Extreme. Perfect.
“Y/N, may I have this dance?” He had somehow snuck up on you from behind as you watched your brother, and held his hand out to you. You put your drink down and took it, letting him lead you to the dance floor.
“I didn’t think you danced, Dr. Reid,” you teased him as he pulled you in, letting his hands rest on your waist, as yours came up around his neck, gently letting him sway you side to side in time with the music.
“I don’t really, but it seemed wrong not to,” he smiled. “I’m at a wedding, with the most beautiful girl on my arm, and the couple made it very clear that we should be dancing, so here I am.” You blushed at his words as he spoke. He removed his hands from your waist, instead grasping one of yours in his own as he pulled you closer.
You stared up at him with a soft smile for a few more seconds before letting your head fall back to his chest.
“I know I’ve said it a lot this weekend, but thank you, Spencer.” You said into his shirt, letting him hold you close as the song went on.
“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N.” He insisted, and you looked up at him again. “Actually… I didn’t exactly agree to this with the best of intentions.”
Your heart lept to your throat as you stared up at him, hoping that he would take your silence as a means to continue.
“I’ve been… I thought that maybe…” he struggled to get the words out, his face aflame with the effort.
“You promised me those coffees right?” He finally stuttered out, and you were left confused and a little disappointed.
“Yeah, Spence, it’s okay, I’ll get you those coffees for the month, just like we promised.” You couldn’t help the sad smile that played on your lips as you answered him, so sure that he was about to say something else.
“No, I mean… Y/N I don’t want the coffee. I want this. I want us to go home, and make everything that you made up come true. I want to take you on a date to that coffee shop. I want to be a boyfriend you can call and tell your mom about because it’s serious and it’s going to work out between us. I even… God, I even spent the morning looking up book fairs in New York City so I could make that come true as well,” he rambled the words out and you could feel the tears forming in your eyes.
“Spencer,” you said softly, trying to get him to focus on you, but he’d started speaking and he wasn’t going to be stopped so easily.
“And if any of that creeps you out, just say the word and I’ll never mention it again. Because I know I’m not good with this, and when I feel something, I tend to feel it overwhelmingly, and Derek tells me I can be really oblivious sometimes, which I don’t really get, but-”
“Spencer,” you put a bit more force into your words this time, punctuating them with a hand on his face.
“Spencer, kiss me.” And he does. He takes your head in both of his hands, and he draws you up to him perfectly, letting your hands fall to the lapels of his suit jacket as he steals your breath away one more time. The kiss is lingering, but short, and he hesitantly backs away, looking around to spot witnesses. But you don’t care and you pull him back down for another, and another, until you’re just two lovers on the dance floor that cannot get enough of each other, gasping for breath between chaste kisses as you let him hold you there, gently swaying.
“Spencer,” you whisper finally, forehead resting on his, as the song finally draws to a close.
“Yes?”
“Spencer, take me to bed.” You tell him, and he nods. He leads you over to the bride and groom where you offer each of them a hug and a happy future before making your excuses and running away with Spencer back into the hotel like two love-drunk teenagers, a mess of giggles and stolen kisses as you stumble up to your room for the second time that weekend.
But this time, you don’t hesitate, don’t pull away. He backs you into the door and you let him hold you there, his mouth on yours, your tongues entwined as he fumbles for his key card. You fall together into the room, laughing and smiling the entire way, not letting him escape your touch.
“May I?” He asks, playing with the zipper of your dress as you kiss his cheek, his jaw, his neck, anywhere you can reach, nodding and moaning your consent. The moment the zip is pulled down, he lets you go for a second, and the dress falls straight to the floor. You're practically bare in front of him, chest exposed, neck littered with the beginning of love bites that he’s about to absolutely build upon.
“You’re beautiful.” He says, softly, wrapping his arms around you again, lifting you up so your legs can wrap around him as he delivers one more soul-crushing kiss to your lips. Your brain is a mess of emotions, your only solid thought is that you will never let him go again. You both eagerly worked on unbuttoning his shirt together, a desperate mess of breaths as he finally laid you on the bed. His hand fell to your core, tracing a finger over your sensitive nub as you begged him for more, needing to feel all of him, to devour his very existence.
He pulled himself out of his remaining clothes, lips still attached to yours, climbing over you and holding you tenderly, his arms wrapping around your body as his legs came to settle between your own. Dropping his forehead to yours, he finally spoke again, his hand dropping between the two of you to line himself up.
“Is this… are you sure?” You heard the restraint in his voice, the desperation, the love, the overwhelming lust as he held himself back, needing to hear your consent.
“Spencer, I love you,” you whispered, and he finally pushed himself into you, joining the two of you together in a moment of bliss. You shared another sweet kiss, letting him swallow each and every one of your moans as he began thrusting into you, your hips rising to meet him in your delirious pleasure.
He whispered sweet nothings in your ears, brushing the hair off your face every now and again to tell you how beautiful you looked, and how well you were doing.
“You’re so perfect, Y/N, you’re doing so good for me,” he pressed kisses against your neck with each word, keeping his pace steady as you chased your inevitable high, already clenching around his thick cock.
“Spencer, I love you,” you let the words drop from your tongue like a prayer, repeating them over and over with each thrust as small tears welled up out of your eyes. He kissed them away from your cheeks, listening to each confession as your stomach tightened and your climax spilled over you. He grabbed your waist then, leaving one hand cupping and stroking your cheek as his own thrusts grew sloppy, finally spending himself fully inside you.
“I love you, too,” he whispered into you then, unwilling to let you go for even one second. You spent the rest of the night whispering the words back and forth to one another, waiting with bated breath for the fantasy to break, for the magic of the wedding to wear off.
It never did.
4K notes · View notes
slyscoutess · 9 months ago
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paring: charles leclerc x fem!social media! reader [ has faceclaim ] summary: Strange comments started circulating about your image, your networks and even your work, all because of a viral video, now your boyfriend, not at all jealous, can no longer hide your relationship. writer: The faceclaim of choice was @ mharessa on Instagram, but there is a reason for the choice, everything here is a funny story that is kinda of happening right now in Brasil, with some modified details, I hope you like it ;3
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liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, olliebearman and 111.051 others
scuderiaferrari From the grid to your feed. 😎🇯🇵
tagged: carlosssainz55, charles_leclerc
view all 2.075 comments
pipesancheez55 y/n knows exactly what we want to see. Charles and Carlos
charlooos and who's that??? pipesancheez55 she is the admin and social media for Ferrari, and close friends with both boys 55sainz_ now say it in a velvety voice: thank u yourusername
leciceecream admin I hope your metabolism is not accelerated, we are praying for you sweetie!!!
c2loover admin, do you know you are getting married???
bearbooy admin girl, i don't know how to tell you this, but it seems like you were invited to a wedding and you're the bride
carlitoswifey she needs to get a protective order leclerclnoffspring Charles please protect our mother
ln554 I think she's so cute with charles, such a shame she's going to marry that ugly
lestappenheart wtf is going on in this comment section????
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liked by andferrari007, joris_trouche, yourusername and 1.611.648 others
charles_leclerc 愛しています日本 🤍
tagged: andferrari007, joris_trouche, yourusername
view all 4.116 comments
yourusername oooh how pretty are this pictures!!! who take them???
charles_leclerc annoying random girl in the last picture, think she is a stalker or something like that lechairpastry oh well, your stalker is being stalked, charlie
drawstaars16 you're neve beating the babygirl allegations
lechairbbg allegations?? that's 100% confirmed supermaxmaxmax he is the definition of babygirl
vanillaleclerc y/n in the last picture, she's hagging with her boys before her marriage
cliatalianfanclub charles, did y/n ask you to be her bestman???
scuderiafanclub charles, ask y/n if her metabolism is accelerated
pastrypapaya we alredy know she has THE called to greatness lestcarlando and the looks does match
mariaferrari ask y/n how the wedding preparations is going!!!
lestappenheart IN HERE TOO??? WTF
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liked by iamrebeccad, scuderiaferrari, yourusername and 1.002.910 others
carlossainz55 choose your race week face
view all 5.249 comments
carlandochild when he raises his eybrows >>>>>
ascescuderia I busted 3 time confirmed scuderiacharlos soo true
sainzthinker I just know yourusername take the pictures
yourusername I actually did, and receive no credits for it, can you believe it??? xxemilian I can believe that you have a accelerated metabolism
lec16r did y/n already send you the invitation for the wedding???
beccacarlosluv so when is y/n's wedding???
love4wags you proclame yourself y/n's big brother, are you the one who's going to walk her down the isle??
carlandobaby Do you think she will lose the baby weight fast??
mickrussel are you going to the wedding or is Lewis taking your seat there too??
lestappenheart you guys are kind of impossible right now WTF IS GOING ON??
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liked by carlossainz55, lovingwags, yourusername and 21.224 others
iamrebeccad Editorial for russhmagzine
view all 201 comments
carlossainz55 😍
wtfisakmsargeant i'm going to steal your gf carlando_mclaren so early
beccasaainz ARE YOU GOING TO BE THE MAID OF HONOR???
verstappen1655 you are y/n's friend, do you know if she have a accelerated metabolism????
yourusername Forget that spaniard, let's runaway together I BEG
iamrebeccad already packing wait a minute charloslovers y/n's fiance did you know you lose to a woman???
scuderiawaglovers is y/n a woman of god???
lestappenheart I give up honestly . . . Looking good Rebecca!!!
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liked by charles_leclerc,scuderiaferrari, iamrebeccad and 21.648 others
yourusername Alexa, play Lost in Japan by Shaw Mendes
tagged: joris_trouche, charles_leclerc
view all 2.116 comments
babygirllechair did she leave the church??
trixpastry girl, did you asked for restriction order already??
supermaxmaxmax CONGRATS ON THE WEEDING, such a shame is not with charles
vanillaleclerc this is not very curch lady of you
sainzz55_ Charles is going to be the bestman and going to cry for the lost of the love of his life on the wedding
landonorris Please, let me be in the weeding
pastrypapaya NOT YOU TOO lestcarlando HE IS SO CHRONICALLY ONLINE
stalkerusername what a beautiful picture, it's a shame that your clothes are apparently becoming less and less cloth, but that will never take away your beauty
lestappenheart oh now I know what is happening
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stories responses in instagram dm
scuderiasainzz SUCH A CUTE BABY
ynthinker I just know you were giggling like a proud mother on the bts of this
csj55_ HOW CUTE
sargeantblues Did you loose the baby weight fast after giving birth to this one?
norrizsainsz Is he the one who will take the rings on your wedding day?
stalkerusername God has blessed you with immeasurable talent, and these boys are so lucky to be with you while you are still working
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charles_leclerc stories responses in instagram dm
charlieleclec I love how good of a friends you guys are, hope it keeps that way when she marries
cslestappen4 MAMA AND PAPA
maypastrylover Yes, Charlie, keep her mettabolism accelereted!!!!
druvoichmaxie She does seem to have it all in his check list
kikagaaasly Training to be best man in her wedding??
alobonorussel Saying your goodbyes before her husband makes her quit her job to be a full time church lady???
yourusername stories responses in instagram dm
xoxoleclerc SUCH A POOKIE
scuderiaicecream your future husband will not like this
tsunodagaasly going to make a quick time travel to see who you marry in the end
chaynloverrs don't make risk runaways with charlie, you have a stalker
monacopredestinado Are you speeding up his metabolism too?
scuderiawags4life DON'T GO BACK TO MONACO, I BEEEG
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liked by scuderiaferrari,lilymunh, yourusername and 1.543.698 others
charles_leclerc showing beauties hidden behind cameras 🤍
tagged: yourusername
view all 4.116 comments
yourusername you take more pictures of me than I take of you, and me taking pictures of you is my job
charles_leclerc some beauties deserve more attention than others lechairsainz He says this and there are more photos of Carlos
ln1644 I wanted their friendship for me
alonsovettel friendship? they are clearly dating and this is a hard launch carlandofishy okay grandma, let's take you back to bed
lecvanillaas I love her being his best friend
jorisfavwag suddenly no one is asking about her metabolism
scuderiahamilton charles ruinning a wedding
pastrypapaya such a homewrecker lestcarlando I hope her future husband knows that her and Charles' friendship comes first
cliqueleclerc future husband screaming, crying and throwing up now
lestappenheart His gallery is just her and everyone else thinking it's friendship
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liked by vertappwifey,rosinglovers, mhefandoom and 8.585 others
lovingwags Tired of everyone calling it friendship, possessiveness or worried about obsessed fans?
Either way, Charles Leclerc just kissed Scuderia Ferrari social media manager in front of everyone during his post-race victorious celebration. We need to comment that apparently he had an unsuccessful hard launch yesterday and in recent days we saw a man saying he would marry his, now assumed, girlfriend.
When asked about the matter, Charles simply replied that they had "already taken care of it and the man would never come close to his lover, there was no saint or religious entity that would do otherwise." Charles is known for being jealous, his jealousy being one of the rumors of one of his old breakups, this may have been what sparked the fire for him to admit his girlfriend to the world. What do you think?
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verstappenmothering Delulu twitter girls WERE RIGHT
yummylechair FUCK YEAH WE WERE yncliquee WE KNEW OUR PARENTS VERY WELL
ynthinker Where were you when the photo of her sitting on his lap on the beach went viral? The photo he reposted on his launch
miniverstln MAMA AND PAPA. MAMA. AND. PAPA
lechairyourname the position of his hands, this man needs to be touching her 24/7
norrizzcunt THE CRAZY STALKER LOST IN MONACO AND SHE KISSING CHARLES IN CHINA
maziemillian SHE'S A VERY LUCKY WOMAN sainnzchair and he's a very lucky man
whatamaxemmil Thank u random dude for making my parents hard launch their relatioship!!!!!
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liked by landonorris,carmenmundt, yourusername and 1.789.309 others
charles_leclerc I try one more time to make it clear, the one right there is mine 🤍 If there is anyone in this world who will marry her, it's me, the ring hidden in the closet proves it.
tagged: yourusername
view all 4.116 comments
yourusername I love you so much cutie patotie, pookie bear, literally the man of my life and for my life
charles_leclerc i love you way more, my princess, i love u more than italian man love me riddleleclec FUCK THAT ROME ASS AND JULI GIRL, I WANT WHAT THIS BITHCES HAVE
yourusername WHAT RING??? RUE ( joris_trouche ) WHEN WAS THIS???
joris_trouche We went out to choose around the third week of your relationship landonorris LMAO WHAT A SIMP charles_leclerc no need to expose this here
olliebearman MAMA 'N PAPA
nenasainzz OLLIE norrizlala ONE OF US FOR REAL
lewishamilton I'm happy for you both, wish all the love in the world for your relationship ❤️
sebastianvettel I'm glad you can finally show your love to the world ❤️
yourusername omg thank u, just know you are my all time favorite driver ( and ferrari driver ) and the best father in law I could ask for!!! charles_leclerc your boyfriend and bestfriend are both drivers IN FERRARI???? carlossainz55 we are catching strays here
iamrebeccad GIRLFRIEND STEALER ALERT
francisca.cgomes we need to start plan b to get our girl back iamrebeccad okay . . . but what is plan b? carlossainz55 forgetting plan b just like me, how cute cariño yourusername leave my girl alone, sainz 🫵👊 carlossainz55 That's it, I'm notwalking you down the isle anymore 😤 yourusername no need to get aggressive, let's talk ☹️
cliqueleclerc I AM A CHILD OF A FUTURE HAPPY MARRIED COUPLE 😭😭
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milkteabinniechan · 2 months ago
Text
♡Dear Lover - Hyunjin
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MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY MEMBERSHIP//M.LIST
pairing: fiancè Hyunjin x fem! reader
summary: Your parents have picked a husband for your sister and the two of them have been writing love letters back and forth for years before they meet on their wedding day. There is just one problem: you've been the one sending the letters to her future husband and now you're in love!
warnings: just fluff! some angst, drama, very soft hyunjin, lovesick reader
“Maybe start with why you were the one writing me the letters and not your sister?” Hyunjin’s nostrils flared as he spoke. But his tone wasn’t angry, just confused. You looked exactly how he pictured you from your letters. A softness about you that translated through your words.
“She asked me to. In the beginning, she didn’t want to write to you. So, she asked me to do it instead to make our parents happy.” You pulled at the hem of your shirt, twisting it this way and that while your eyes stayed fixed on the ground. “Please, don't be upset with her.”
Hyunjin stepped back for a moment. His eyes searched yours as the two of you finally locked onto one another. Eyes that he had pictured late at night. A face he had only seen in his dreams. Everything he had said in the letter was true. He was in love, just not with your sister. But the wedding was planned, the invitations sent out.
It was springtime when the letters first began. You remember the sound of birds chirping outside your bedroom window when your parents made the announcement that your sister was to be wed on the year of her 21st birthday.
“But I don’t want to marry someone I’ve never met!” She screamed. You were only partially paying attention. You were no longer the focus of your parents' attention. You were twenty-four now and practically a spinster. Your sister was going to have her wedding the very next spring. One year. She had one year to comply and accept what was happening.
“We’ve already failed with your older sister, we will not fail with you.” Your father boomed. His fat finger pointed sternly at you.
While your little sister protested for a few weeks, she ultimately agreed upon the marriage if she could at least see who she was to be betrothed to. But letters are all his family would agree to. A stern, traditional family that negotiated the terms of advised letters to be written once a week for one year until the wedding day. Meetings were held in secret by the patriarchs of the two families. Hands were shook and large cigars were smoked in celebration of the upcoming union. Then one cool spring night, your sister came knocking at your door with a favor to ask.
“You’re a writer. Just write the letters for me and make me sound good okay?” She begged, her hands folding together while her eyes pleaded with you.
Reluctantly you agreed. One week after the other, you tried your best to sound like your sister. You wrote about her interests instead of your own. You included her favorite color and her favorite kind of food. But somewhere down the line, you slipped. Hyunjin had written about a favorite book of yours – Little Women. He had written paragraphs discussing the different characters and the depth of their description and diversity from one another. He had gushed about the writing style and the eloquent use of simile and metaphors. And your heart fluttered, fluttered and flipped in a way that was new and exciting. Your next letter was completely you. It was your voice, your thoughts, your ideas. The words just flowed out of you like wine and you would feel almost drunk by the time you signed your sister’s name at the bottom.
Hyunjin would soon write about more personal subjects; his fears and insecurities. Of which you felt a kinship with. You would respond with words of comfort and love, thanking him for being so open and vulnerable with you. You would tell him about a beautiful sunset you saw or the lovely sound that snow made when you take a step early in the morning. Hyunjin would tell you how ready he was to hear that sound. How eager he was to hold you, to hear your laugh and touch your lips at last-
When everything was said and done, you knew the exact moment that things had gone too far. You had said “I love you” in your final letter before the wedding. Hyunjin had responded that he was on his way and that he “loved you more that there were stars in the sky.”
You held that last letter tightly in your hands as the all black town car pulled into the driveway of your family home. You would see him, finally see him, and he would see you. Only you would be a shadow cast behind your sister. Hyunjin could never know that those words were not hers. He would marry her and you would go back to your life before. As Hyunjin slowly stepped out of the car, the sunlight shone through his hair like a beacon. His forearm flexed as he gripped the car door and closed it behind him. He stood still for a moment, his eyes flicking between you and your sister until his gaze finally landed on you. Your sister hastily stepped in front of you and introduced herself. Hyunjin shook his head for a second to break the stare between the two of you before smiling warmly at your sister. He held her tightly, his long arms sweeping around her waist and pulling her close to his chest.
“I am so happy to meet you in person, my love!” He exclaimed, his hand coming up to cradle your sister’s face.
Dinner was a complete blur. The clanking sound of silverware and glasses swirled around your ears while your mind drifted further and further from the dining room. The voices of your family were distant, just an echo of a sound as you attempted to keep your food down. After dinner, Hyunjin and your sister snuck off somewhere in the house to be alone. You made your way up to your room and lied on your bed, willing your brain to erase the last year so the heaviness in your chest would subside.
“Fine! Okay? I didn’t write those stupid letters! But that doesn’t mean anything, right?” your sister shouted from the other side of the wall. You stayed in bed and made your way to the wall that divided your two rooms to see if you could hear anything. “She’s a loser! You don’t want her!” Your sister screamed.
“If she is the one that wrote all those letters, then I do. I do want her.”
Your heart dropped. You moved your head away from the wall and turned to face your bedroom door as you heard footsteps approach.
“Please, don’t be upset with her.”
“I’m not upset with her.” Hyunjin took a step closer, closing the gap between the two of you. “You look just as I imagined.” He whispered, his breath brushing softly against your neck.
Your breath hitched as he moved closer. Your hands move instinctively to his waist. Your hips coming into contact with his as his hands move down your back and come to rest at your sides. He leans into your ear and speaks in a low tone. A secret shared just between the two of you. Something intimate that nothing in this world could penetrate. “You’re the one I want to marry. You’re the bride I have been waiting for.”
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