A Sweet Angel. Josh Silver x Younger F! girlfriend
(A/n: GUYS HERE IT IS, THE FANFIC OF JOSH AND HIS NEEDY GIRLFRIEND IT TOOK SO LONG BUT JESUS FUCKING CHRIST IT HAS BEEN SO HARD. Anyways, enjoy and thx so much for y´alls patience!)
 Concept: You have been seeing that Josh, since he is a musician, he was sometimes surrounded by gorgeous women, and your hormones did not help in this case. You have been feeling pretty insecure about your body and image lately, since he could read you well, he knew what was going on but he waited until you opened up to him:
WARNINGS: Insecurities: raw talk about feelings and a female body, fluff, angst, death, tears.
If I missed anything, y´all say it in the comments!
Being a girl is so difficult.
It really is, especially when you have a partner, buy not only when you have a parter but everything else mixed with your emotions.
Sometimes you just wanted to be held by an older man and just die right there while he rubs you on your back and caresses your hair. Yet the world seemed like a big wolf, and you were the lamb. Unless you are the lamb of God, and that God is your boyfriend, Josh. Â But that also meant how much you wanted his approval, his gorgeous words calling you pretty, with that deep voice of his, deep, soothing, slightly rasping a bit because of how much he smoked. Â How his skilled hands braided your hair when you sat on his lap, and he smoked without care but you.
Right now, you were just getting ready so he could drive you to have a date.
Recently, there have been some insecurities in you, and you hate it. Since he is the keyboardist of Type O, he was out a lot. Sometimes he talked to women, and you accepted that, he was loyal after all (or sometimes he right down did not talk to anybody at all), what bothered you was the fact of how sometimes those women were so gorgeous.
With their pretty hair, their well taken care of nails, painted with delicacy. Their perfect words with such soft voice coming out of plumpy lips that were perfect. Their big eyes with seriousness yet happiness looking at the interviewers and the different rock stars (that included Josh). The way they were so prepared and looked so dominant, so secure. Their clothes, perfect, with their slender bodies and such pretty hips, a flat stomach. A skin that had no pimples. A hair that was always styled. Basically, perfect for the camera and absolutely everyone.
You were jealous sometimes, but only enough.
It´s not like: you wanted to tear yourself apart and their perfect bodies at all.
How could you be jealous? How could you sometimes have bad dreams where the voices in your head tore your self-esteem and how you see yourself into pieces? How could you possibly hate your own skin? When in Josh´s eyes: you were the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.
Sure, he was older than you and he have seen many women in his life, some were attractive, some were not. He has dated many people, but he was over it. Never you, he loved you.
Your own beauty was sometimes the inspiration for practicing music. To keep going for you.
And this time: it was not a wonder you were insecure.
You were getting ready, sitting in front of your vanity fair while doing your make up, natural but pretty. Just like the photo of a magazine you had in your mirror. Wanting to be like her, pretty. So, you were doing your best, passing the brush across your eye to gently give it more deepness. The blush was soft, cute even with your nose. Oh, your nose was one of Johs´s favorite things to kiss. You curled your eyelashes, making sure to make them look well and natural. Mascara, eyeliner, the little cutesy and sparkly glitter, subtle enough to not look like a disco ball, notorious enough to shine your face as a star. Josh was sitting on your bed, smoking and just watching you get ready. His face was hollow with soft gestures as his shining eyes watched you, and the small smile on his lips as he held the tangy smoke between his middle finger and pointer finger.
You were wondering if you really looked pretty for him to look at you with such eyes.
You brushed your hair softly, hating the way your hair was not shining, but you had to give your best. Josh knew how you felt; he just preferred you to tell him (it honestly hurt him a bit to know how you did not tell him that, how you doubted your own self and his). Â Your outfit as well was truly ravishing in his opinion, the small black heels, how your skirt was just above the end of your stocks with a black bow, the way that blouse of black strides with dark blue ones was just your size, loose yet utterly fashionable. Himself, he was not such a model (EVEN THO HE IS SO FINE), but he knew how to look decent.
 He liked the contrast between the two of you.
When you were done with your make up, you honestly did not think you looked pretty; you wanted to stay at home and just rot in bed, yet you had a chance to change everything. You turned to look at Josh and smiled softly, tilting your head a bit meanwhile standing up, you asked.
´Do I look pretty? This is good, right? For the date? -
His eyes lit up at your sight; you looked gorgeous, ravishing, exquisite even as he took a hit of his smoke, mostly to clear his head, and his eyes softened. After he exhaled his smoke, he looked at her and patted his leg.
So, you came to him, walking gently with your stocks on the carpet and went to stand between his long legs. He gently gripped your thighs, fiddling the edge of your stocks, drinking the sight of your thighs. You were this- soft angelic in his eyes. Â
He felt his heart crush at the sight of your eyes being so nervous, wanting to cry meanwhile he adored you so much. As much as the truth hurt, he would rather tell it, so you snapped out of it, than sugarcoating you with some bullshit lies. It stung him, so of course it stung you as well.
´What´s goin´on with you and your body? -
His voice was deep, rough as always for smoking too much of all of his anxiety. It came out a bit raspy, but just low enough for you, just how you liked it. He knew it. He knew what was going on but wanted you to say it, so he heard it, so he helped you, so he was sure of his instinct. Those magazines and sad looks were not fooling him anymore. Once again, you freeze a bit, anxiously. As you fidgeted with your own hands, your hair strands moved briefly by the gentle movement of your shoulders, sucking a breath as you tried to speak. It was hard to when his blue eyes were looking at you like that.
´Nothing, nothing´s wrong. It´s just-. -
´Now, don´t go lyin´on me like that when i know ya for a while. I worry for you, and I'm makin´sure my darling is healthy. Doesn´t matter if is her body, mind, I want to make sure you´re good and it hurts me to know ya lied. So, last chance: what is goin´on, sugar? -
That is when you cry. You just sat on his lap, crying; he preferred when you opened to him anyways.
So, he pulled you to him; he knew it hurt, and it hurt him too. It hurts to both of you. He gently cooed you, making sure you were comfortable on his lap and he took a drag of his smoke, exhaling it away as his other hand caressed your hair with easiness, he kissed your hair as he tapped the smoke on the ash tray, letting its burn remains die on the metallic plate you kept for him. He kissed your head, letting you cry all you want. He did not care if it stained his shirt; it was a sign of trust he absolutely adored. He once again kissed your head multiple times, guiding your hands to hold onto him at his sides and making sure you did not fall over the carpet floor. He thought that you, his beautiful angel, was crying over some stupid girls, was already sad but a bit pathetic. Because you already looked too divine to even compare yourself to others.
´Angel, don´t you cry to that, sweetness. -
He may cry as well, but he kept himself strong for you. Only for you, his sweet angel.
´Y´know you´re perfect, right? I don´t care about some woman's flat stomach in a magazine. I care not only about you, but that you´re okay in many aspects. That you accept this body as much as I adore it, you´re beautiful, you´re perfect. If I thought otherwise, I wouldn´t be here for you, but I am, ´cause i love you. ´Cause you´re my woman, my sweet angel to take care of. I don´t mind comforting you like this, but i mind when you start to reduce ya food only ´cuz some stick made you feel bad. You´re you, you´re too precious for me to vanish into a thin nothing all ´cause you didn´t eat. I love you, angel.  My darling... it hurts me to see you ripping yourself over some other girls when you´re my girl. -
Stars die when a girl hates her own body over standards with a man's eyes.
So, he helped you to take your shoes off, you were in no condition to go out when you felt so bad, he kissed your cheek and took a drag of his smoke, passing you a hit and kissed your cheek. He then laid on the bed frame as he pulled you to him, making you sit as however you wanted while he caressed your highs, soothing the painful grip of those tight stockings, he let you sob into soft hiccups.
´I just- see ´em, all pretty when I'm still- y´know, trying to accept myself and how- you can get any girl wo´s better than me. - You sobbed out, slowly calming down. ´ And- and it hurts me to know, I may be not enough for you. -
´Darling, darling. What did I just say? I don´t care if you´re a stick if ya chubby, I don´t care about those women. I don´t care about a girl that isn´t you. You´re in my lap for a reason, you earned it and that´s ya place to sit. - He rasped out, fixing your hair and he quit his jackey, letting it go aside as he then left the smoke on his lips, rubbing your sides and then he set his smoke aside, kissing your cheek and your hair. You melted on him. He knew you were needy, affectionate, that you wanted to please him, and he didn´t mind it. He would only care when it´s not balanced, but for now, he drank the sight of you, the love of his life hugging him as they laid together in a bed where they could be honest to each other.
His love was for his satnin, for you.
´You wanna be pretty, make it happen. You wanna be secure, go on. Don´t just run into my arms, they´re open for you, but you gotta do your own, babe, I know ya can. Don´t run to this underweight, anorexic body, ´cause I may not be here for long, love. But as long as I'm here, I'm here for you, sweet angel. -
´Don´t go. Don´t go, no, no, no. I can´t stand it- no. -
He knew it hurt, but you as him, will die.
In any way, his hands will be in forever yours, with his kisses cleaning undeserved tears. His body heat was the killer of your coldness, for he will be your cure.
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