#perfect set up for angst
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wait why is drunk byler a possibility for canon iâm lost
the cast has been filming at this house this past week, ppl speculating theyre filming a party of some sort⌠we might be wrong tho lol cause we only rlly have pics of the house exterior
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someone said 'Perfect Chaos form!Knuckles'
#yknow that part in Mob Psycho where Mob's like#'if i can protect them#I don't care what happens'#?#that's him#knuckles the echidna#knuckles fanart#knuckles angst#perfect chaos#master emerald#sonic the hedgehog#sonic fanart#i don't often do fully rendered pieces but when I do I stay up until 3am and set off my tendinitis so feel free to rb this one ;A;#perfect chaos form!knuckles#perfect knuckles
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I wish we knew more about how bsd characters figured out they have abilities. The fact that transferring an ability is confirmed to be rare implies that most characters just randomly figured out their abilities. Like did Kunikida one day write in his planner âI need to buy new glassesâ and suddenly glasses spawned in his hand? Did Tanizaki play tag on the playground and just matrix-ed into thin air? Did Fyodor just randomly touch another person and see them drop dead in a pool of blood in front of him?
#Iâm obsessed with the world building implications of abilities in regards to society but also how it affected each person#half of the abilities are a perfect set up for some good crack⌠others are angst fuel#I actually donât wanna think about Yosano because it implies that she had to have encountered near death experiences even before the war#and that is haunting my thoughts#bungou stray dogs#bungo stray dogs#bsd Kunikida#kunikida doppo#bsd tanizaki#tanizaki junichirou#bsd fyodor#fyodor dostoevsky#Dazai accidentally brushed against someone their ability just disappears and heâs like: oh Iâm going to make everyoneâs life hell#Chuuya probably randomly started floating while sleeping when he was still living his quiet normal life#btw if Fyodor actually found out this way and killed a loved one or something when he was a kid Iâll be scarred for life#I have so many other scenarios I can think about#bsd needs more ability backstories plssss
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@poeticphoenix sent: đ˘
do i ship our characters together?: yes | no | not yet but maybe soon
would i like to ship with you?: yes | maybe, i'm willing to try | no
type of relationship i could see: childhood or high school sweethearts | exes | engaged | married | long-term relationship | crushes | unrequited love | fling | long distance | online relationship | just dating | new relationship | toxic lovers | friends with benefits
tropes i'd enjoy writing for them: friends to lovers | enemies to lovers | exes to lovers | fake relationship / dating | forbidden love | grumpy and sunshine | star-crossed lovers | surprise pregnancy | second chance | soulmates | amnesia / mistaken identity | forced proximity | secret relationship | slow burn relationship
would i rather plot first or jump right in and see where it goes?: develop their relationship first | jump right in | something in between ( what specifically? )
what now?: let's plot something | send me shippy memes | i'll send you shippy memes | write me a random starter | i'll write you a random starter
#poeticphoenix#GRABS YOU AND SHAKES YOU AROUND#listen the way i'm already obsessed with g.enesis and k.ira HELLO???#i think there's a lot we can still do#with our plot that we already have#because its just the perfect set up for more angst >:)#[  đ˘.  ]    answered  âşÂ    i spoke destruction into the world and i could not take it back.#[  đ˘.  ]    ooc  âşÂ    i love the kind of woman that will actually just kill me.
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Where are all the Tek Knight fics??
#need me some angst#canon divergence.....missing scenes....where are they?#04x06 is a perfect set up for the Hughie Whump#tek knight#the boys
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"the batman saga means it won't just be a trilogy" cool so anyway they better show every single robin and batgirl and every other kid that this man has parented
#personal#again i cannot stress enough how much i *need* for battinson to get to jason todd#they set it up so beautifully!#they've set up that bruce's one unconquerable fear is that he's terrified of losing anyone else like he lost his parents#that he is petrified of something hurting more than that hurt#and like come on! that's the perfect set up for a death in the family#for this one thing that might actually trump that night in crime alley#it's that panel from a 1987 comic where bruce defeats fear gas by making himself think of something even more horrifying#and what he thinks of is jason dying#battinson is a batman ripe for all that ethiopia angst and i want it
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Ok hear me out
I know it's the oldest soap trope in the world (but let's face it IWTV is basically a soapy gay gothic vampire horror)
and I know it's not in the books
what if Lestat wakes up with fucking AMNESIA
#can vampires even get into comas#idk idk#but like say he wakes up and doesn't remember ANYTHING#other than the instinct to drink blood in order to survive#but it's like the first time all over again and he shrinks away from killing humans until eventually he decides just to kill bad ones#perfect way to retcon his character like ann did in book 2#imagine he goes into rockstar mode but genuinely doesn't remember anything#and louis can't help but be drawn to him again and then is like weelllll he doesn't remember anything#so maybe this time it will be different!!!#but eventually the memories come BACK#and lestat remembers what a monster he was#and that louis and claudia killed him#scene set for angst#etc etc#9pm rambings#lestat de lioncourt#louis de pointe du lac#iwtv amc#iwtv 2022#louis x lestat
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thinking about dick being the oldest sibling
#like obv he is#first adopted yknow technical yadda yadda yadda#but also just all the things that come with being the oldest#he was the first so all of bruce's unresolved issues (ahem all of his issues) are pushed on to him#he has the worst relationship with bruce at first#because he was the first so he was kind of the example and he set it up for all the others but he also got the worst of it#he had to fight all the fights first#but as the oldest he wants to protect the younger siblings from the worst of it#and so he has a relationship built in those bonds of having the same parental trauma (generally) with his younger siblings#hes the brother you talk to about all of the daddy issues because he Gets It#its just the fucking trauma of being the first but the inherent urge to protect the rest of them#also he reminds me of my oldest sister's teenage angst / daddy issues playlist#aka numb by linkin park or even perfect by simple plan#anyway idk if this made sense#it was more organized in my head#im just thinking about the bond that oldest siblings have with younger siblings when the parent(s) are kind of shitty#ALSO this is not saying like 'bruce is a terrible parent' or 'bruce is abusive' or whatever#but hes not the best parent definitely#and his relationships with his kids are reflecting that
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đđđ đđđđ đđđ đđđđđđđ !
- gojo satoru x reader // zen'in naoya x reader
you are an empress perfect in every way... until your husband suddenly casts you aside for his expecting mistress. but you won't be dethroned just like that, because the newly coronated western emperor, gojo satoru, sets his sights on you, and thus your revenge against your ex-husband begins...
genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive contentâminors do not interact!âmight be ooc, kinda slowburn, angst to eventual fluff, divorce, marriage of convenience, heavy pining (from gojo's part), childhood friends trope, mentions of infidelity, misogyny, infertility, explicit smut
note: loosely inspired by and taking some elements of manhwa remarried empress (but i promise you, it's different). my god, for the past month this is all i can think about *sobs* wc. 10.5k ! this is the longest thing i've ever posted here, and if you'd give it a chance, then i'll be really, really thankful!
credit header goes to @/gojokko in twitter!
next. the crown of diamonds | long live the empire
general masterlist | series masterlist
âI accept the divorce.â
Your perfect life was done for. Everything you had worked hard towardsâ it was now in shambles and tatters.
You, an ethereal, revered empress... someone untarnished in the face of public and private, had just agreed to the emperorâs blatant request of separation.
âMy god... how can this be!?â
âYour Majesty! Please reconsider!â
Emperor Zenâin Naoya of the Eastern Empire, your husbandâand companion for more than ten yearsâsmirked as he looked down at you, paying zero attention to the uproar in this courthouse.
But then you heard that kind, velvety voice from the back of your head:
âIf you become my empress⌠that will make me the happiest man alive.â
This place has turned into a whopping circus ever since you and Naoya stepped inside anyway. And so, having nothing worthy left to lose, you declared, âAnd I demand an immediate approval for my remarriage.â
Your boldness once again stirred a wave of clamor among the crowd, and even Naoya was glaring at you in disbelief now. âA remarriageâŚ? How dare youâ!â
âWell... is it the time for my grand entrance?â
Deep from behind the curtains, suddenly he emerged, dressed in the most lavish robes befitting his own throne, outshining everyone in the room as if he was the one owning the place.
âHeh.â His low chuckle stunned even the mass as he took big strides towards where you were.
This would seal your fate. From now onwards, you would no longer be the perfect empress. Your messy divorce and remarriage will relegate that image to history.
âMy goodness, thatâsâŚâ the woman in the front gasped. âWestern EmpireâsâŚâ
âGojo⌠Satoru?â Naoya's eyes lit with genuine fury as the other man took his place by your side. âYou couldn't possibly meanâŚ!â
You interrupted him regally. âYes, he is the man I wish to remarry.â
This event was going to blow up tomorrow, with scandalous titles no less than The Deposed Empress Remarries! And there was no going back, ever.
How did your pristine life turn into such a shameful debacle? None of these turn of events would be imaginable for you several years prior...
SATORU, THE CROWN PRINCE OF WESTERN EMPIRE
To Satoru, you were more than just the eastâs breathtaking empressâyou had captured his attention long before you ascended to that role.
Seven years ago, you were the renowned noble lady, the paragon of perfection sought after by many lords and monarchs alike.
You were both cunning and fair, pretty in the face, came from an illustrious family known for birthing famous empresses in either western and eastern empires. You were the quintessential template that mothers advised their sons to seek in a wife.
The fairest in the landâthat was how people called you. And Gojo Satoru is always and only interested in the best.
âSuguru... look at her.â His eyes would soften at the sight of you as he nudged at his closest ally and confidant, the duke. âShe is so... pretty, isnât she?â
Unfortunately, you had been promised to the Eastern Empireâs crown prince from a long time ago too. There was little that the outsiders, including himselfâeven if he was the heir apparent to his own throneâcould do to sway your heart.
âThere's more to women than their faces, Satoru,â Suguru sighed, thinking that what he had was a mere lust. âMoreover, sheâs engaged to the Zenâin... and they have a very good relationship. Nothing you can do about that.â
âHmph.â
To be honest, he couldnât fathom what you could possibly like about that murderous Zenâin spawn. He was a pompous human being, no less.
How on earth could you stand someone like that? Satoru had always wondered⌠especially when it was well-known to the land that you and him were on good terms despite your arranged marriage.
âand once, he thought he knew who you areâŚ
. . .
Satoru swallowed the bitterness rising in his throat as he attended the royal wedding of you and Zenâin Naoya. Despite hating the circumstances, he had to admit it was a fairytale weddingâalbeit with the wrong groom.
You were the epitome of picture book princess. In his eyes, and in the eyes of the attendees of your wedding.
Oh, and he made headlines too, that dayâ
âMy princess, may I have this dance?â
Two hours hadnât even passed by after you swore your vows as Naoyaâs bride, and there he was, asking for your first dance, in your own wedding ball, right in front of your newly wedded husband.
Everyone bet on you turning him down and making a fool of himself, but instead, to spare his feelings, you put your delicate hand in his, and with a wide, shy smile, you said, âYes.â
Satoru thought it was his greatest achievement then. To have made Naoya red-faced, to have made him watch as he put his hands on your waist, twirl you aroundâ and come one breath away from your face.
âPrincess, youâreâŚâ his breath caught as he pulled you close, staring straight at your faceâand suddenly he felt like life was so unfair to him as the slow melody of waltz was all he could hear.
How could you be this close... and yet so far by being somebody elseâs wife?
And yet he forced the words out, with sincerity he had never showed anyone else before, even as his heart bled and shattered. âYouâre so incredibly beautiful.â
Your eyes widened, sparkling with wonder, before you thanked him with the loveliest of smiles. âThank you. Youâre too kind.â
Satoru was certain... you had ruined him, because no one else would ever be able to turn his world with just a smile like you did, even as you broke his heart too into a million pieces.
. . .
Ever since that day, everyone had branded him as a prince in search of scandalâcoveting the princess married to Zenâin clan.
What everyone didnât know was that it went beyond that. His obsession of you went beyond your beauty and charms and wits. Rather, it goes a long way back.
YOU, THE CROWN PRINCESS OF EASTERN EMPIRE
As inconceivable as it was, once upon a time, you and Naoya were a truly, happy couple.
Handpicked by the late emperor to become his sonâs wife, you couldnât be more proud. With you being the next empress of the Eastern Empire, your clan once again proved itself that it was always worthy of a seat in the monarchy.
But beyond that, you were elated that it was Naoya that you ended up marrying. Your own childhood friend, who often led you around his palace by hand and filled your days with many joy and laughs.
âOne day soon, when we are the emperor and the empressââ younger Naoya was always someone who had big dreams about ruling his nation. âWe will create a nation in which no one can do anything as they please! Weâll establish order, and anyone who goes against it will be punished! That way, itâll encourage fairness!â
Not knowing it yourself, you had given your heart wholly to him. You had agreed to all his dreams and visions. You devoted yourself to them all, even more so after your marriage and coronation, as he promised you an ever after.
âFrom now on, itâs going to be me and you, Empress.â
YOU, THE EMPRESS OF EASTERN EMPIRE
âYour role is to give an heir to the throne, Empress.â
Your title had never sounded so heavy to you before now, especially when Naoya was the one saying it.
You sighed, gathering your wits and scattered feelings before levelling your calm gaze on your husband. âI understand that, Your Majesty. But it is not something that I can do on my own.â
This year would mark the fifth year of your marriage to Naoya. You understood that the fact you still werenât able to be with his child would raise questions from the court, but still, must you be reminded of this fact over and over?
Your husbandâno, the emperorâbarked a satire laugh.
âOh, really? As I understand it, being infertile is not something I can help you with.â
That hurt. It was a searing pain, like being branded with a red-hot iron. And it felt as if he had torn through your chest with his fist alone.
âIâm not infertile.â Your eyes gleamed with pure defiance as you lifted your chin, facing him in his audience chamber.
It dawned on you that lately, one of the few ways you could speak to him was by requesting an audience as opposed to your usual midnight talks in your private chambers.
When did it start to change? Or was Naoya this kind of person right from the very beginning and you were just blinded by love back then?
"Oh? And what would you call being childless for five years then?" Naoya sneered at you from his dais, placing one hand on his jaw. "Bad luck? You must be terribly cursed with misfortune then."
You fisted your dress, summoning all your strength to hold back tears. Don't you dare cry. Not in front of him.
It wasn't as if you didn't want to carry his heir. For many women, holding their baby in their arms is a cherished dream, and when they hold a position of power like yours, it becomes not just a desire but a duty.
You tried everythingâcalling in the best doctors, consuming horrible potions, even consulting with the oracle. And they all said you were perfectly healthy and fine. You were at your wits end too.
The irony. You were celebrated in public for your competence, while privately, you suffered your husband's cold detachment and cruel remarks.
. . .
"Empress, where should we put the welcome gifts?"
You studied the floor plan of the banquet hall for your annual New Year's ball with a thoughtful hum before pointing at the entrance.
"Place it here. We want our guests to know that we are generous, and it's easily accessible since the parlor is the first area they reach after arriving."
You loved planning festivities. It was therapeutic in a way, and it gave you little time to think of anything else.
"Oh, and I want to have a welcome arch and flowers placed at the entrance too. This is the grandest event of the year, second only to the Emperor's birthday... we must display the grandeur that befits such an occasion."
Your head maidservant, Hanabi, placed a hand on her abdomen and nodded with a warm smile. "That's a very clever suggestion, Your Majesty! I'll ensure they arrange everything just as you wish!"
As she scurried away, you watched her with an assessing gaze. Hanabi had been with you throughout the five years of your marriage, always at your side, assisting with day-to-day matters and serving as your confidant. She was a great aide.
And you were observant by nature... so of course you noticed things.
...and if you were correct, then she was most definitely with a child.
The thing is... she is unmarried. You hesitated to jump to conclusions without evidence, yet the timing struck you as more than coincidentalâit nagged at you for weeks now, suggesting a connection you hoped did not exist.
Because if they really did... then...
You didn't dare to think, because it would be more than a nightmare. But you weren't able to let this go either, so you did what was necessary.
You planted a note in Hanabi's chamber, and then you waited in the gardens, the chilly midnight air wrapping around you like a shroud.
You had done everything you could. Five years ago, you let go of everything and had decided to spend your life with your first loveâNaoya.
Because you truly and devotedly love him. You give your all for himâfor your life together.
"Ooh, Your Majesty~! It's so cold out here, why not in our usualâ"
Hanabi's voice faltered as soon as she saw your crimson gown, feeling like the world had collapsed on her. And you rigidly turned towards her, feeling more or less the same.
And yet, what you had received from him is the greatest betrayal.
SATORU, THE EMPEROR OF THE WESTERN EMPIRE
He first realized something was clearly wrong with you during the New Yearâs ball that you hosted.
Satoru had just been crowned emperor during this time, and though rulers typically sent envoys to such grand celebrations due to concurrent festivities in their own lands, it had been several months since he last saw you. He wants to see you.
A meritless action, but he wanted to, regardless.
But that day, you were a fantastic actress in this stage called banquet hall and nobody was the wiser��� but he would know, because you mattered a lot to him.
"Your Majesty, you don't seem well." He approached you with a glass of champagne, affixing a friendly smile. "Is there anything amiss?"
Taken aback, you didn't expect such close proximity that you took a step back. His smile almost faltered, but he kept it up.
"Emperor Satoruâ"
"Ah, none of that, no. Address me just as you usually do, hmm?"
A smile finally tugged at your lips. "How is that fair, when you address me so formally?"
Satoru chuckled. "You, my queen, deserve all the finery and grandeur there is. And I will see to it that you do."
That was his nickname for you ever since you ascended the throne. Both of your countries refer you as âempressâ, but he loves addressing you as âqueenâ instead.
There was a shift in your expression, and he thought you looked melancholic. It bothered him, stirring a desire to erase that somber look from you. Because above anything and everything, you had to be happy and smiling.
"You're still a flirt, I see, Satoru," you remarked, throwing him a soft smile. "It won't do you good if you're seen with me most of the time, you know."
No, Iâm doing this just for you. He wanted to tell you that, but he sighed instead. "You've got it wrong. When I'm in the company of the most beautiful woman in the lands, what's there to be ashamed of?"
Perhaps hearing that finally melted you a bit as you freely giggled this time, and Satoru was glad that he made you laugh even a little.
"You would think that, huh..." you fondly mumbled. And then your expression crumbled, and he could've sworn something painful flashed in your eyesâ
What happened to you? He so desperately wanted to ask, but then he saw that preying gaze on both of you. Zenâin Naoya. Satoru clicked his tongue as he watched him weave through the crowd, his gaze locked ominously on both of you.
âSeems like we donât have much time, after all,â he began, urgency sharpening his words. âBut rest assured, whenever you want to talk to me, just send a little birdie my way and I shall answer.â
âHuh?â you blinked at him questioningly, totally not getting what he meant.
He winked, then took your hand and placed a kiss on it, eliciting murmurs of surprise from the crowd at his bold gesture. âAnd chin up, my queen. You have nothing to fear, and if it makes you feel better...â
He leaned in to whisper in your ear, âTo me, a diamond is most beautiful. And you⌠are one that sparkles above all.â
âNaoya, unhand me this instant!â
You were tired of this shit, of Naoya always manhandling youâof him always having a total control over you.
After seeing how close you got to Satoru, Naoya practically saw red. Still, in the prying eyes of public, he remained unperturbed, but his vice-like grip on your arm was sure to leave bruise as he unkindly led you out of the ballroom.
"Naoya!" you raised your voice this time, even louder than before, uncaring even when the wandering eyes of the servants curiously followed the two of you.
You were not made an empress just to follow him. And with that conviction, you forcibly pulled your arm away from his grip right after he shut the door to the drawing room close, not even wincing at the stinging feeling.
His eyes shone with anger. âYou insolentâ!â
âNoââ You stood your ground, and suddenly you got very irate and burst out, âHow dare you, Zenâin Naoya!â
He looked at you with equal surprise and mortification, clearly unprepared for your righteous tirade.
"You have made a mockery of our marriage! You have insulted me and your own throne by carrying on withâ with the help! My maid!" you screamed at his face, pure anger coursing through your veins. "How could you!?"
Naoya took in your outburst with eerie silence, a sneer slowly forming on his lips. "You get riled up over that? Have you forgotten emperors are free to take mistresses, especially when the empress isn't capable to bear any heirs?"
A burning arrow shot straight to your heart at his response but you willed yourself not to show it. "Regardless, you could've done better and not put our throne to shame by fucking a servant."
"I've told you time and time again. A woman's duty is to bear children, and since you've proven yourself beyond barren, I did you a favor."
"A favor...?"
"As soon as Hanabi births that child, you can raise him as your own," Naoya frankly stated unabashedly, as if proud with his idea. "Saves you the trouble and I get my heir, a win-win solution, no?"
Raise him as my own...? Saves the trouble? You could've sworn that throughout your entire life, you had never been so insulted before now, right in this moment.
"What I do, I always have my throne in mind. And yet you..." his eyes narrowed into unsatisfied slits. "What are you trying to achieve by whoring yourself to that rake, Gojo Satoru? Are you telling people of the ton that you're having an affair?"
His voice made you want to throw up. The realization that everything you thought you had together might have meant nothing to him at all made you feel sick.
And so, hiding your trembling hands and swallowing you unshed tears, you responded to him with a clipped toneâ
"You're most despicable, Naoya. And you are a complete fool if you think even for a second that I'd want to raise your bastard!"
He seemed taken aback by your rejection, but you didn't falter. "And oh, since you want to make use of that lowly maid so much, feel free to take her back and track her down yourself, because I've sent that wench away."
With that, you turned your back on him, striding out with your head held high, even as your life crumbled into dust.
Days after your full-blown argument with Naoya, your situation only worsened. By now, even the palace servants knew you had incurred his wrath, while Hanabi had won his favor by carrying his childâpossibly the heir to the throne.
The child she was carrying was no threat to your position. After all, you were the empress. A child of your blood would trample over any bastard.
However, you'd be damned if you shared a bed with him again, and Naoya made it clear that his mistress would be elevated to the rank of royal consort. Given the current trajectoryâand history's tendency to repeat itselfâemperors often divorced or banished their empresses in favor of their mistresses.
Bah. You could only scoff at your laughable predicament. You came from a prestigious clan and were revered, yet now you were no more than a scorned woman.
Dark thoughts consumed your mind for a timeâyou couldn't deny that you had considered leaving the palace for self-imposed exile or even ending your life. However, reason always prevailed.
You wouldn't give Naoya what he wanted most: your compliance. And around the time when you resolved to do that, a finely decorated envelope arrived at your study, with no signature whatsoever.
Intrigued, you opened it to find an intricate dried rose bookmark and a folded letter nestled inside.
Greetings to you, my queen. Yeah, it's me. Hope you won't be too surprised. But if you do, know that I always mean well.
Satoru. You weren't expecting this. A small smile tugged at your lips. How long had it been since you last smiled so freely?
I've heard you love reading, hence the bookmark. Fun fact: I made it myself, with Shoko's help. She is sooo bad at explaining though so if the flower is wrinkled... please blame her.
This time, you giggled. He was an emperor, for god's sake. Should someone of his station write so informally like this?
Now... I'm no oracle, but even I know that you must be having bad days. And so, let me entertain you with several tales from my kingdom. So, the other day, my good friend Suguru, the dukeâyou must've heard of him surely (they said he is the most handsome bachelor in the West but they must be missing an eye for saying so because clearly I'm more!)âjust fired a pair of his servants because he caught them in a thirst! He is so uptight! Why can't he let two people in love be!?
Before you knew it, you found yourself chuckling at the lines upon lines of anecdotes Satoru had penned in the letter. The way he wrote, it was as if he was right here, saying all of this to you in real-time. For a while, you were completely absorbed in the world of the Western Empire he described, and all your worries and anxieties seemed to fade away.
Okay, that's it for now. This is just a teaser actually, so if you want to subscribe to more tales of my humble little country, you can always be my empress reply to this letter! :D Look out for a white cat near your windowsill during the hour of snakeâhe is my trained pet, and put your message in his little backpack. Don't worry, he's cute and doesn't bite!
You were so giddy by the end. His message warmed your heart so much that your eyes grew misty. In the aftermath of Naoya's betrayal, you were certain your life would be filled with much sadness to come.
Yet, your friendship with Satoru might just be the thing that would save you.
No matter how much his friends Duke Geto and Countess Shoko urged him to see reasonâthat you were no longer available and occupied with your duties as the empress of your own empireâSatoru couldn't help but still cast an eye your way.
You were clearly unhappy, and to him, someone as radiant as you should be happy.
And so, that was why he took his quill and started writing that letter to be sent to your place, along with a rose strapped inside.
He knew that, being the kind person you were, you would most likely respond, but still, the moment his cat arrived back with your reply, he was elated beyond measure.
Of course I knew it right away! I omitted your name because who knows who might catch your cat on the way. Anyway, I hope Mr. Cat will arrive back to you safe and sound. Firstly, thank you for your letter. I must say I'm so happy to receive it :) I haven't had best days so reading it made me smile. And secondly, of course I'll subscribe to your stories of Western Empire. I've been wanting to visit it myself but just haven't gotten the chance to... so if you will continue it, I shall be happy to read :D
If anything he wrote brought you joy, then Satoru was content. He had achieved his goal then.
And it was his own little secret that... by corresponding with you, it allowed him to savor the feeling of having you as his own, if only through words.
Mr. Cat's name is Sugu-chan after Suguru but you can call him whatever you wish. And don't worry, he is strong and can fight if necessary! And don't be too formal with me, my queen. We have known each other forever. Anyway do tell me, what is your favorite color now? Let me guess, is it still that specific shade of crimson?
You name your cat after your best friend...? And you're making it hard for me to be less formal when you always address me as queen! Hmm, I suppose so. I love burgundy. I've even had my study designed with that exact color scheme. It just gives me the confidence I need, you know.
So you still love burgundy... I'll keep that in mind ;) Frankly, any shade of crimson suits youâyou're always a vision in them. Back then and especially during your coronation. I love blue, so I think we're a match? :D
Back then...? Hmm, surprisingly yes, red and blue would make a good match... Anyway, I believe you promised me unusual tales from your 'humble little country', so please indulge me!
You've forgotten it already? Around the time we first met, back when I was still known as "the cursed prince"? It holds such importance for me but sadly it seems like it was just a passing moment to you :( Oh, yeah, I haven't forgotten about it! So, this time let me tell you about the time when Earl Nanami got wasted . . .
Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Amidst the turmoil of your marriage, exchanging letters with Satoru became your sole respite. His stories regarding his own empire amused you, and sometimes it got you to wonder what it was like to live there.
However, running away from your problems would never solve them. Writing to Satoru may have helped you to cope, but still, your real issue with Naoya wouldn't vanish simply just by ignoring him.
. . .
"Your Majesty..."
For a good one minute, you stood still. Your lady-in-waiting had delivered an earth-shattering newsâbut admittedly, a possibility you thought was in the cards the moment you went against Naoya.
"His majesty has summoned the high priest to his study," the elderly woman added, close to tears. "But it is very likely that he has submitted the petition forâ" her voice faltered when she caught sight of the emptiness in your eyes, unable to continue.
A divorce. Naoya had been considering a divorce. And by now, he was set on it.
"I'm so, so sorry..." she choked out, her voice breaking with sorrow to mourn you, but you remained expressionless, lost in your thoughts.
The last time an empress of Eastern Empire was divorced was more or less a century ago, because she had committed a grave treachery against a royal consort by poisoning her. She was sentenced to death by hanging afterwards.
The irony. You were in similar situation, only that you weren't vengeful enough to resort to poisoning Hanabi. Speaking of her, her baby was due in another four months, and now she was living happily in Naoya's quarters.
"Don't be. I'm perfectly fine."
To consolidate his illegitimate child's position, Naoya used the most effective way. Since you wouldn't listen to him, and Hanabi must be a far delightful companion rather than you, he was more than willing to cast you aside in favor of making her his empress instead.
You thought it would hurt more, and yet what you felt the most right in this moment was white-hot anger. This is unacceptable. It was the greatest insult to you both as a woman and as the empress.
Now, all you could think of was how to uphold your dignity and plot your exit from this palace with your head still held high.
If I can't be the empress here...
And after a sleepless night, you came to a daring solution. And your planâ
...I'll be one somewhere else.
It was an invitation, Satoru thought, almost in disbelief. Or it sounded a lot like one, didn't it?
Heart beating a little faster and blushing, he reread the latest letter you had sent him.
It's only the beginning of summer, and the heat is sweltering... I'm considering treating myself to a trip to the winery village on the border between the east and west. I think it'll be nice if I have a companion...
Winery village was right in the middle of the western and eastern empires, and it was a safe zone. Vineyards were vast and thick, but it wasn't exactly a popular vacation spot. So, it intrigued him why you would want to go there.
Just as he was about to reply to you that it was a very good coincidence that he too wanted to pay a visit to the said village, suddenlyâ
"Gojo! Gojoooo!" Shoko suddenly burst into his study, startling him.
"Shoko! What the heck?!"
Lady Shoko might be a countess, but she, Satoru, and Suguru all attended the same royal academy. Despite their prestigious titles now, Satoru insisted that in private, both Suguru and Shoko address him just as they did before he ascended the throne.
Still, she was ruder than Suguru in many ways. Satoru gave her a stink eye, but his confusion grew as she seemed to be delivering momentous news.
"Gojo, have you heard that Naoya will divorce Y/N?!"
"Wha?" it felt like a ton of bricks suddenly fell down on his head. And then his friend proceeded to tell him everything she knew.
"It wasn't made official yet, but even the townsfolk have been talking about it. They also said that Naoya have taken a mistress, and that she was formerly the empress' maid."
Satoru listened to her in silence, but the moment he heard that the Zen'in spawn planned to divorce you, anger flared within him. And to add insult to injury, he two-timed you with a servant?
The fucking bastard. He never deserved you at all. How crushed must you have been, enduring all this shit?
"Now, I wouldn't normally encourage you this," Shoko took out the cigarette she stashed in the folds of her dress and sighed. "But since you never let go of that weird fixation on her, should the royal divorce happen..." she shrugged as she took a seat in front of him.
"No matter how laughable it is, you might have a chance."
She is so right. These long years of longing for your affections and dreaming of having even a minute more of your time... there was now chance to turn it to reality.
When you arrived at the winery village for your vacation to breathe in some fresh air, honestly, everything was still in shambles.
You couldn't forget the horrified looks from the court when Naoya announced the divorce. Most were shocked and pleaded with him to reconsider. Some from your circle of ladies even sobbed, openly stating that you didn't deserve this fate.
âEmpress... His Majesty shouldn't be that harsh...â Hanabi had said to you afterwards, seemingly concerned for you. âYour legacy here⌠Iâll make sure to carry them on.â
Sometimes you didnât know whether Hanabi was pretending to be dumb or indeed she was. One thing you knew though...
âI wish you luck on that, Hanabi.â You looked down at her with eyes as cold as ice. âBeware, the Emperor is fickle, be sure to not run out of entertainments.â
You knew you deserved a better fate than being the empress of the Eastern Empire, but seeing those who still cared for you made you solemn. Your loyal maids, those who supported you... and what about organizations you've spent time and energy to?
âMy queen, ah, there you are.â
Satoru's voice from behind startled you, interrupting your daydreams. He quickly came beside you and extended his hand, asking for yours.
You offered him your right hand, and he promptly pressed a kiss on it, his bright blue eyes gazing up at you.
It wasn't as if you just noticed how pretty his eyes were, but now that there was no ballroom and scrutinizing eyes around you, you couldn't deny that the way his eyes sparkled as he gazed at youâsolely and purely on youâmade you breathless.
What... would it be like to have this man... to be your husband instead?
"I missed you. I know we talk daily through letters, but seeing your beauty firsthand is always a sight for sore eyes," he cheekily commented as he let go of your hand. "Now, I get to see you without your pesky husband around, and yeah, you never fail to make my silly heart race."
You chuckled. "You always flatter me..."
He only gave you a toothy smile, and you two strolled the vineyard. For a while, you talked about nothing of importance, like where your ladies-in-waiting were, how things were from his side.
"How do you find being the emperor?"
"It's tiring! It's boring too to look through accounts and oversee those trivial state affairs! And not to mention how many people have been nagging me to take a wife soon!"
"Oh? You haven't been on the lookout already?"
"Nah. No one is good enough, I need someone already familiar with state affairs and such," he said, wrinkling his nose sourly at the thought. But then he cast his eyes on you.
"And frankly, you are my standard," he fixed you a meaningful smile. "No one comes close. If you weren't betrothed to the Zen'in back then, I'd have proposed you in a heartbeat."
Thump. Thump. Thump. Your dead heart suddenly came to life. Gojo Satoru had just confessed his affections for you so candidly, and it got you thinking how much easier your life would be with him. He would love you, take care of you...
And beguile you.
His eyes fondly crinkled at you. "You are everything I desire in a woman to be my wife."
He adores you so easily, so fluidly... and yet, Naoya, who has you fully, is throwing you away.
Satoru observed how your face fell once again, just as it had during the New Year's ball. And now he knew, it was because you were facing your impending divorce.
But he wasn't going to tell you that, instead, he would willingly be your confidant and offer you his very being. He was about to crack a joke to lift your spirits, when you blurtedâ
"What if I said... I want to be your empress?" you kept your pace, not looking at him at all. "What if I said... I'll leave everything and come to you?"
Huh? What�
That was loaded. Have you entertained the thought too? Satoru had craved the very idea for so long he didnât even miss a beatâ
âThen Iâd marry you.â His voice was straight and true, shooting straight to the most tender part of you that Naoya had torn to shreds. âIf you become my empress⌠that will make me the happiest man alive.â
No hesitation. It almost reduced you to tears. You stopped where you stood, willing yourself not to tremble. There is still one person who sees this much value in you.
âThen Iâll be yours,â you breathed out. âIâll be your empress, Satoru.â
Satoru could've sworn time had stopped. If one moment ago, you looked like you were about to shatter, now you were a vision of the dignified and perfect queen he had always known you were.
âIâll be your queenâ your everything.â You declared, locking eyes with him, the intensity of your gaze not escaping him.
How many years had he dreamed of this moment? How many long nights had he endured, yearning for you, knowing you were beyond his reach?
Finally, finally... Satoru grinned, swearing to all the divine beings out there that he had never known how liberating it was to finally have what he wanted. âThat would be my greatest honor.â
He drew you closeâyou let himâand after one second of taking in your enchanting eyes, he crashed his lips against yours.
His lips started soft and gentle, then became fiery as his tongue met yours. He pulled you closer, one arm around your waist and the other holding the back of your head. You responded eagerly, pressing against him, fingers tracing his neck and feeling the lines of his undercut.
One is finally having the woman he had wanted for so long, and the other was plotting her escape from her misery.
You were using him. He knew it. Yet, he didn't care. Hidden behind bushes and vines, you shared your very first heated kiss, aware that this moment would leave its mark as both the greatest stain and triumph in your lives.
And when he finally pulled away, lips swollen and wet, with a wolfish grin, he promised you once againâ
âGive me everything that is yours... and I swear on my life, I will do everything to turn your life into a living dream.â
âEmpress, your husband His Majesty the Emperor, has requested a divorce.â
It was how your once pristine life transformed into the scandal of the century inside the courthouse.
"If you accept this petition, then you will no longer be the Empress of Eastern Empire. You will lose all the rights you have as a senior member of the imperial family..."
You donned your finest attireâthe intricate crimson and black dress you had designed and commissioned the dressmaker to create. Today, faced with Naoya's divorce decree, it would be the last time you adorned the colors of his empire.
"The ties that bound you together as husband and wife would be severedâ"
Good riddance, you thought.
"If this is not what you want, you have the right toâ"
"I accept the divorce."
Your voice cut through the heavy solemness of the witnesses and turned them into a mass of disbelief. You disregarded Naoya's smirk and held the priest's gaze. "And I demand an immediate approval for my remarriage."
The crowd was in for a second wave of uproar when you boldly stood your ground, and they erupted into clamors once again when Satoru made his grand entrance and took his place beside you.
"Youâ!" Naoya was so furious that he roared. "This is my empire!"
"And?" Satoru challenged with a dauntless smile. "I'm here to propose, and since she accepts your divorce request, I believe she has no relations with you any longer and is free to marry someone else."
You remained motionless, until your cold fingers met warmth when Satoru linked his hand with yours reassuringly.
"This is treachery! I won't fucking permit it!" Naoya hollered as he faced the high priest, who had a grim face while observing this three-way headlock between the three of you.
"Emperor Naoya, that matter falls into the jurisdiction of the church." The high priest let out a sigh and then turned to you, assessing your calm gaze.
Regardless, Naoya paid him no mind. "I refuse to grant you any permission to remarry! You will be banished to the cold palace until the rest of your pitiful days! Not only do you fail miserably by being barren beyond help, you also dare to whore yourselfâ" he was now rambling curses at you before everyone in the court, and it pierced you deeplyâ
Until Satoru tugged you behind him, so that you wouldn't have to see his face any longer.
"High priest!" Satoru's voice blared as he clenched his jaw, irate at the string of profanities directed at you. "Do you still truly believe that the deposed empress can't remarry? When she has suffered through this man's downright betrayal?"
Your head was spinning. You wanted this whole ordeal to be over already.
And thankfully, even the high priest saw reason, that you were undeserving of this debacle. In the end, his words held more weight than anyone else's, even Naoya's.
"I accept Empress Y/N petition to marry Emperor Satoru!"
In the chaos of the courthouse after the high priest granted your wish, Naoya shook his head in disbelief, looking at both of you with intense disdain.
"You've always wanted that wench, haven't you, Gojo?" Naoya cackled with a malice you would never have expected from someone who had been your husband for ten years.
You had tuned out all the noise. This dumpster fire was too much even for you. But then, you felt a strong arm enveloping you, sealing your fate as the match made in this courtroomâ
"I have, yeah," Satoru replied with a smug grin. "And now that she is mine... it's just the beginning of your downfall, Zen'in."
Your wedding banquet in Western Empire lasted a week long.
True to his promise, Satoru spared no effort to make you happy. The moment he brought you to his palace, he ordered immediate plans for wedding celebrations. Make it grand, make it unforgettable... he took charge himself.
And on the final, seventh day, as you were about to be formally crowned as the empress of the western lands, you were stunned.
"This is your coronation dress, Empress," your new lady-in-waiting, Shoko, said with pride. "Gojoâ I mean, His Majesty, specifically has his late mother's dress altered to suit you."
You promised yourself that you would no longer wear any shades of crimson. As much as you loved the color, it reminded you too much of your homeland and Naoya. No matter how much you despised him now, once upon a time, he was everything you loved and more.
And you thought you couldn't possibly love another color until you saw the extravagant navy dress in your chamber. Made of luxurious satin and adorned with literal diamonds, it shimmered under the light and flowed gracefully with layers of brocade cascading to the floor.
To give you something so valuable... You had expected to enter into a marriage out of necessity, but your new husband had no intention of ceasing his ways to win your heart.
If it's with him, maybe... just maybe...
Today is the day.
Satoru sat on his throne before his court in the grand hall of his audience chamber. His hair was pulled back, and he was dressed in his official attire, robe of silk and a crown made of pure gold.
Next to him, another resplendent crown adorned with jewels and diamonds shimmered in the lightâthe empress' crown. Your crown.
Today was the day this empire would truly acknowledge his queen. He stole a glance at you on his other side, and his breath was taken away.
With your hair tucked into an elegant updo, you were the very vision of a fairytale queen. You were incredibly stunning, almost otherworldlyâ shade of blue suited you as much as crimson did, just as he thought.
This day would go down in history. But before that, he would ensure that the news would reach Zen'in Naoya. He would spite him so hard.
"Today marks a momentous occasion. We gather here to celebrate not only my marriage and my new wife's coronation," Satoru glanced at his audience with a smirk, his expression widening as he spotted his best friends Suguru and Shoko. "But also the start of her reign... and as we know it already, her fame and beauty are second to none."
The crowd burst into giggles, clearly aware of his scandal at the Eastern Empire's courthouse. And even you smiled.
Satoru shrugged, playfully rolling his eyes. "Spare me, I'm a newlywed, after all. Anyway..." His gaze shifted to the intricate crown, a relic of his late mother's, and then back to you. "Come."
You knelt before your new husband, bowing your head. The whirlwind journey from the East, your remarriage to Satoru... It had all felt surreal until this moment. Now, the weight of reality settled upon you, almost shaking your very coreâ
But just as the thought crossed your mind, Satoru placed the crown upon your head. As the jewels settled into place and you rose to face the crowd, his voice cut through the air:
"And here I present to you, your new empress!"
The room erupted in applause, the cheers echoing around you. Everyone congratulated you without fail, and your breath was taken away.
It was a sight beyond belief, as they chanted your name, over and over againâ
âALL HAIL THE EMPRESS!â
"I have something for you!"
You wouldn't expect that you would ditch your last night of wedding celebrations along with your husband, and yet here you were, led by the hand by a very giddy Satoru.
"Where are we going?" you questioned him, your pretty dress sweeping the halls in a rush.
He turned to you to send you a wink. "Trust me, sweetheart. You'll love it."
Somehow the way he called you made your heart thump a little faster inside your ribcage. This man is really, truly, your husband now.
He was such a refreshing person, it almost made you let go of everything that molded you into the perfect empress in the east, and be just... you.
"Here." Both of you stopped in front of a grand door, and he ushered you inside. "Come, come~"
A study, you realized as you stepped inside, but then a gasp left your lipsâ
"How do you find it, hmm?" Satoru put an arm around your waist, proud of how the burgundy walls and mats enveloped the entire space, creating a tranquil sight that perfectly matched your taste.
It was so much like your private study in the Eastern Empire's palace. You might now hate that place, but your private study was filled with the memories of smiles while writing back to Satoru's letters and waiting for his cat to come. And to have this now in your new home...
"You remembered..." you looked up to him, almost tearing up.
"Of course I do," he pressed a kiss on your temple. "I said that so long as you're with me, I'll turn your dream into reality, didn't I?"
This man really treasures you, or at least that was what his actions had proven so far.
"You're everything I've ever wanted and more," Satoru said, wrapping his arms around you from behind in a warm embrace. "You might not realize it, but I've been in love with you since you first visited western lands."
"What?" you turned to him with genuine confusion. "How?"
"That blind boy who you led by the hand... he had no friends," Satoru sighed against you. "The first and only person who asked him if he was lost... is you."
Suddenly, you were thrown back in time to your first encounter with Satoru many years ago. He was known as "cursed" for being born with peculiar eyes, had been blind for a period of his childhood, before he awakened the true extent of those brilliant blue eyes and brought his clan to power by wielding them.
Back then, you thought it was wrong for him to be left alone, so you took him by the hand and escorted him back to the palace, unaware that he was the infamously cursed crown prince.
"You made me feel less lonely. And I thought then... someday, somehow... through some sort of miracle in which I regained my eyesight and could see you... I'd immediately ask for your hand."
But you were named the crown princess of the Eastern Empire. The thought of how crushed Satoru must have felt upon hearing the news pricked at your heart.
You felt soft, you felt loved, and most of all, you felt an overwhelming certainty that with this man by your side, you would finally experience the genuine love that had been missing from your life for so long.
"You have me now," you whispered in response.
Unlike your first kiss in the winery village, this time, you were the one who faced him and pulled him into a searing kiss.
Be it impulse, overwhelming feelings or something else... you didn't care. You just want him.
And wouldn't you know, your new husband... is also a wonderful, dashing lover.
"You're so... fucking beautiful..." Satoru's lips were on yours, claiming them with a fierce passion that left you breathless. His hands roamed your body, tracing each curves and lines.
You moaned into his mouth, clutching his robes. He captured your wrists with one hand, using the other to tilt your head back so he could leave bruises on your neck in the process, making you moan.
"Keep making that sound, yeah?" Satoru rasped, his hot breath giving you goosebumps. "Keep me going with your voice."
As he gripped your waist, it dawned to him once again that you were here, with him.
Seeing his colors on you ignited desire straight to his cock. His empress was stunning, more so now than ever, more than any woman Satoru had ever seen.
He led you to the bed, his movements urgent yet tender. The air was thick with desire as you lay back, pulling him down with you. You arched your back, pressing yourself closer to him, craving more.
This wasn't your first time, yet you had never been this excited before. From heated kisses until somehow managing to get rid of your underwear and left you in your dress... your body nearly thrashed in response.
"Look at you... An queen of two empires, yet rendered putty in my hands," Satoru wickedly grinned as he slipped a hand under your dress, rubbing his thumb teasingly over your clit. You let out a soft sigh at the prodding. You were getting wetter by each second... and Satoru felt his cock straining against the tight material of his dress pants.
"More..." you pleaded, arching your hips. "More...!"
Any of your wishes would be his command, so he pushed two fingers inside you at once, and you let out an erotic gasp. Satoru was so close to tearing his pants off by seeing how tight you clenched around his digits.
Breathy moans fell from your lips with each harsh brush of his thumb over your clit, his fingers fucking you fastâ
"Satoru...!" you shuddered, gripping his shoulders as you became limp and came into his hands in spurts.
"My queen..." he then captured your lips in a brash kiss, and you reciprocated it. He pulled away only to press his forehead against yours in an attempt to calm his raging heart. "No matter what."
His watery, sparkling eyes was mesmerizing to you, and you took one breath before you crashed your lips into his, tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer.
"As pretty as you look in this, I'm going to take it off," Satoru murmured with a meaningful smirk, slowly undoing the laces of your dress. "I want to see you completely naked... just for me."
Soon, you laid bare, and the cold air made your body shiver. Satoru clenched his jaw tightly at the scrumptious sight.
It was almost difficult for him to take in all of you at onceâyour flushed cheeks, swollen lips, erect nipples, and legs spread wantonly for him. Satoru had been here so many times in his dreams, and to see it becoming reality...
"If back then, you had chosen me insteadâ" he sounded almost heartbroken, which startled you. "I would have treated you right from the startâ"
You looked up to him. "You would..."
"Don't you know how many years... I've been just thereâ watching you and that bastard? Knowing I can do even more than him?"
"Mhm..."
You rose, tugging him closer, before you unclasped his robe, letting it fall to the floor. "Satoru... right now... I'm yours."
He allowed you to undress him and soon he too was out of his stuffy royal attire. Your eyes wandered on each part of his body you touched. His chiseled body, snow-like skin, and then the hardened bulge that sprung out the moment you undid his pantsâ
The sight of his cock alone only turned you on even more. You gently gripped the glistening head, running a thumb over the tip before gliding your hand towards the base of his length. With a gentle rhythm, your hand moved from base to tip in a slow, teasing motion... before pecking his head.
"Yeah... you're right." His eyes never left yours, admiring you as if you were the most precious gemstone, before catching you off guard. While you rubbed him, he snaked a hand around your waist, pulling you so that you tumbled on top of him.
You moaned loudly as his cockâbig, both in length and widthâentered you, his hands gripping your thighs to spread them apart so he can shove himself deeper.
You felt so, so full, as you pulled Satoru to you tightly, groaning into his shoulder. And he started to set the pace, moving against you.
"Ahh," you moaned out shakily, fingers clawing into his back. To him, the sounds you made drew him in like a siren's song, it made him throb inside you. "Ahhâhngh!"
"Feel good?" he asked, voice sultry and deep, as he thrusted into you particularly harder, causing you to stifle a moan. "Let it outâhahâsweetheart... I want to hear you, hmm?"
And you did. You felt hot. Your unabashed, nasty sounds with each thrust drove him to the edge. With every lift of your hips, you squeezed him so tightly it almost made his head spin. His breaths came in short pants too.
"You fit me so damn well," he groaned, holding your hips hard enough to leave imprints of his fingers. "So fine..."
One woman. It took just one womanâyouâto unravel him like this.
"Satoru, harderâ" You commanded, wrapping your arms around his neck even as you trembled. "N-not enough... harder!"
He actually had to swallow, because you and your pussy felt so damn tantalizing. "As you wish, Your Majesty."
He slammed his hips against yours twiceâno, thrice the previous speed, and you incoherently squealed. The squelching sound of your hips slamming against each other, and the immense wetness coming out where you two were joined... it was clear: you were addicted.
"Did Naoya ever make you feel as good as I do you now?" he drawled, sinking into you impossibly deeper, squeezing your left mound and flicking your right nipple at the same time. "Did he... ever make you ride him like this?" And then he instantly regretted his words.
Because the moment he said that, you felt cold, reminded of nights in which Zen'in Naoya grabbed you just to forcefully breed you. You winced, and Satoru caught it.
"I..." you shifted your gaze away from him, and he could've sworn that it was sorrow he saw flashing in your pretty eyes. "I-I... don't want to talk about him..."
Feeling remorseful, Satoru reached for the back of your neck and pulled you to him, kissing your lips softly. "I'm sorryâ"
"You don't have toâ"
"Tonight, I'll make you scream my name so hard you'll forget him," he promised as he pulled away from you, his eyes darkening. "Tonight, give me everything and I'll show you how a man truly loves his woman."
And he followed through. He worshipped you meticulously, treating your body with the reverence one might bestow upon delicate glass. He peppered kisses on every inch of your skin he could reach, lips and tongue trailing down, his relentless thrusts so well-paced and brutal at the same time.
"I'mâ close!" You whimpered, and yet still grinding your hips against him. He was watching your every move, every wave of pleasure that was evident on your faceâ committing it to memory for those moments when he couldn't hold you close.
You gaspedâas a mind-blowing orgasm then ripped out of your very being, your hips faltering as you surrendered to ecstasy with a cry of his name, coming all over him. "Satoru... Satoru! Ahhh!"
And Satoru kept his gaze on your face as he too busted inside of you hard, feeling himself filling your womb with his essence, his hands kept your waist steady, memorizing the way your lips part and the way your body went limp into him with satisfaction.
Dear heavens, I love you. The sight of you was nothing but perfection, and with everything he had, he was very sincere when he saidâ
"You're flawless, sweetheart."
2 MONTHS LATER
"If you give me a son, I'll throne you as the empress right on that very day."
The Eastern Empire's palace was bustling as the royal consort's screams echoed through the halls. The day Naoya had been eagerly awaiting had arrivedâhis mistress was delivering his heir.
Yet unbeknownst to him, whispers in the dark suggested the royal baby was arriving suspiciously early. Many, still mourning the previous empress who had been dethroned so abruptly, were not exactly thrilled with this turn of events.
"My lady, just a little bit more!" the maid encouraged. Hanabi strained once again as the pain peaked and her body spasmed, letting out the loudest wail as the baby finally slid out of her.
"W-what... is it?" on the brink of passing out, Hanabi asked anyone who might hear her. She had to know, for she was so close to obtaining her throneâ
"It's a girl, my lady!" the midwife announced.
What?
Her world crumbled at that very moment. A girl? A girl can't be the heir!
She wanted to sob, to utterly mourn, and right at this moment she was full of fear, because if Naoya knewâ!
Like a curse, he suddenly made his presence known in the birthing chamber. His face scrunched in distaste at the scent of blood filling the air. He took one look at Hanabi, tearful and frazzled after the ordeal, then turned to the midwife, who was trembling at his presence.
"A baby girl, Your Majesty."
In that instant, fury flashed through him. He shot everyone in the room a glare before his eyes settled on his consort, full of spite.
"You useless tramp."
Your life with Satoru in Western Empire was wonderful.
He was everything Naoya was not. Satoru adored you, prioritized your well-being and happiness, often humored you, and made your days an endless delight.
And dare you say... you had begun to return his affections as well.
How could you not? Everything he did, he did with you in mind. He eased you into your position so seamlessly, and soon you found your place comfortably at court.
"He is mixing pleasure with his kingly duties," Suguru grumbled, watching his best friend order the gardeners to plant more blue roses simply because you mentioned finding them beautiful earlier. "Empress, you have to keep a tight grip on his leash."
"Well, at least he's happy." Shoko shrugged and nudged you. "Can't you see by now? How much of a loser he is for you?"
You did see himâa man who showed you everything he had. He had given you everything you unknowingly needed.
And you just wished... you could return the same for him. It still made you bitter, knowing you might never be able to give him heirs due to your condition.
. . .
"Sweetheart... what's on your mind, hmm?"
You looked up to him as he pressed a kiss on your cheek, an arm securely around you, sweaty and panting after your steamy session.
With his hair down and messy after you yanked him earlier, your lips curved into a genuine smile. "You look hot like this, you know?"
He clicked his tongue. "Hmm, I am, of course. But no use in changing topics, I know you well enough now."
Your bare body was pressed against his chest, fingertips tracing gentle lines on his skin.
"There's a possibility that... I can't give you any children." You almost felt ashamed saying this to him, unable to look at him in the eye. "I-I... I've failed for many yearsâ"
"Hush," he silenced you with a finger to your lips, his expression firm. "No thinking that, yeah? I don't care."
"Butâ"
"Children are gifts," he said then, caressing your face tenderly. "It's not up to us to control how it'll take or not. And I married you not because I want heirs or suchâI love you, you know?"
Your glassy eyes met his, and you willed yourself not to shed a tear.
He grinned cheekily. "Besides, you've felt it yourselfâmy sexual potency is undeniable. And I don't believe for a second, that you're what that bastard claimed you to be. I bet he's the one who is impotentâ"
"Satoru! You're so obsceneâ!" you giggled freely and poked his chest.
At that time, you were just relieved that he didn't mind. Though it was still weighing in your mind on some days, you felt a newfound sense of liberation compared to when you were still in the Eastern Empire.
But you were in for another plot twist. Perhaps Satoru is correct, and your doubts are unfounded...
"Ugh..."
Your stomach churned in discomfort, a sickening nausea that seemed to twist your insides and threaten to force its way up. This had happened for days now.
You wanted to find a physician before Satoru was aware of your state. You didn't dare to hope or speculate, because you were tired of it by this point. You just wanted clarity.
Yet, the physician's words left you speechless.
"Your Majesty... it seems that you are with child," he remarked in wonder as he assessed your vein. "Yes, definitely. You are with child."
It was a revelation you hadn't expected. For years, you had been convinced that you were unable to conceive, but now...
You were carrying a new life. Yours and Satoru's.
You felt like bursting with joy as you made your way to his study. Your heart swelled with an overwhelming sense of happiness. Above anything else, you were eager to share this news with himâ
...until everything you had known turned on its axis once again.
Right before you went past the ajar door, you saw a glimpse of your husband and his most trusted confidant, overhearing snippets of their conversation:
"Satoru, however you look at it, this is tantamount to declaring war," Suguru sighed, clearly at odds with his perspective. "It's not wise."
"We can finally put an end to them this way," Satoru's tone was steely as he moved a chess piece across the map, positioning it on the border between east and west. "No better time than now."
"The Empress will face the greatest backlash from this. They'll accuse her of being vengeful enough to provoke an attack on her home countryâ"
"On the contrary, her presence will encourage those still loyal to her to defect. That's why I have her here. We need defectorsâ"
You let out a choked gasp, backing away from the door in shock. For one good minute, you refused to comprehend what Satoru was implying.
. . .
. . .
Did your new husband... marry you for his own hidden agenda?
#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru#satoru x reader#jjk imagines#gojo smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk smut#gojo satoru fluff#jjk angst#jjk fluff#gojo x you#satoru gojo fluff#jjk x reader smut#gojo satoru x reader smut#jjk x reader fluff#gojo fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk fic#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#gojo satoru imagines#jjk gojo satoru#jutusu kaisen x reader#satoru gojo x you
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accidents | Spencer Reid x Reader
Summary: during a long case away, Spencer accidentally sees Reader's nudes on her phone and can't cope because he is a MESS for reader whoops [5.5k]
Warnings: SMUT MDNI, 18+ only, fem!reader, fluff, some angst mainly Spencer doubting himself aww :(, Spencer is PINING for you hard (haha get it), nudes, Spencer loves you so much, pls someone give him a hug, m!masturbation, talk about sex, proofread but prolly not perfect lol, like you aren't probably ready for the amount of longing in this, *slaps Spencer* this bad boy can fit so much pining and yearning
read pt.II here
â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â
Spencer swears it was an accident.
You were all away on a case, somewhere in Florida. And of course, something like that can only happen in Florida, because as much as he dislikes connecting random events with random locations, non-sequitur fallacy and all that, he cannot not say that many of his most embarrassing moments arenât attributable to the south-eastern state. (He will not elaborate on these moments, he very much likes to keep most of his dignity still intact, thank you very much.)
But his dignity isnât really the only thing that had been shattered to pieces by⌠by the accident. Far from it really and it- well, it- God, this really wonât end well for him, will it? Heâs well and truly, as Emily likes to say, fucked.
It happened on the fourth day he and the team were cooped up in a small, dingy police station, chasing down an unsub that liked to paint intricate body art on the victimâs corpses as part of his MO. Aside from, yâknow, slitting their throats with what seemed to be an old, rusty saw. The paradoxical duality of these two aspects, of the interplay of carefulness and diligence put into the painting process and the absolute careless way the unsub ends his victims was fascinating really â but not as much as it is disturbing, still.
Thus, this case is a very photography-heavy one. Most of the cases they solve involve photographs of some kinds of course, but Spencer has never sat in front of quite as many pictures of art and gore in his life before. It was strange, to say the least, even to him. Strange and annoying, to be honest.
Because Spencer isnât exactly fond of all things that come with some electrical inner life, i.e. smartphones, his old brick of a phone isnât exactly helpful for this case. He still feels the need to roll his eyes at Garcia after she, for the umpteenth time, called him an old grandpa and his phone a potato trying to pass as a phone. And failing miserably, especially when looking at the pictures it takes and their quality. Well, Penelope would say âpicturesâ, because she would also say that a resolution of beneath 60 PPI should be considered a war crime against modern technology, but Spencer doesnât know and doesnât want to know what that even means, so. Jokes on her.
Well, actually, the joke is on him. And yes, he knows, the joke is almost always on him, he knows his pipe-cleaner physique and too big eyes and long hair and everything about him really, makes him the perfect target for the occasional bullying he gets still as an adult, but heâs used to that. Itâs normal, part of his everyday life. He can deal with that (more or less).
What he so brilliantly cannot deal with however, is having you around him almost 24/7. Because Hotch had had the amazing idea of fixing you to his hip as his personal photographer to circumvent his technological potato-problem. Uh- not that you, that you take pictures of him, why would you ever do that, but more like, taking pictures for him. Of their victims. And the body art.
Spencer was actually waiting for your protest, because there seems to be nothing worse for you than to stay inside the office when you could be out there, on the fields, in midst of all the action. Where Spencer usually isnât. But thatâs fine of course. Completely, absolutely fine. Spencer doesnât look up every time the door to the tiny room heâs set up his camp in opens to see if itâs you bringing him another coffee just the way he likes, if itâs your smile that will make him feel more energized than any overly sweet coffee ever could. If itâs your voice and smell and aura (Penelope is definitely getting into his head) that for the short while you are there, makes everything seem so much more manageable.
Itâs an energy burst unlike any other and Spencer is aware of what that means, so aware his body burns with it sometimes⌠Often. Okay, fine, most of the time. He just prefers to ignore it and enjoy the precarious friendship he built with you for what it is because he just likes to have you around so very much and â this was so not the point he wanted to make. Heâs hopeless, when it comes to you, and it really is kind of embarrassing.
So, this is why the joke is so entirely on him that itâs not even a joke anymore. Itâs basically bullying, he feels bullied. Because you actually had beamed the prettiest smile heâs ever seen at him, said âOh finally, I can unpack all the dark hidden talents from within meâ which was so cryptic but so you and then you also winked at him. And well, Spencer has to lie if he were to say that he was being totally normal about this. That you didnât just upheave his insides like an earthquake of magnitude eight with a single wink. Oh, heâs in so much trouble.
The first two days the two of you work side by side proceed without any unforeseen occurrences. And Spencer is so glad about that he could cry. From the moment you had joined the team two years ago, from the moment he met you, it was an undeniable fact that you were nice. Not only that, but truly, selflessly kind in a way that has left him all too choked up to even speak on multiple occasions now. The team is nice to Spencer, of course they are, theyâre his family. But nothing in the entire world could have adequately prepared him to the spring of kindness you so freely distribute to anyone willing to receive it. And god, Spencer is willing. Is it every time you listen to him ramble on and on, unable to really hold his tongue despite the embarrassment clouding his cheeks darker. Is it every time you ask him about the book heâs reading, every time you ask him how his mother is doing and just- all these tiny things that add up and completely smush his brain into a fuzzy mess of warmth that leaks down his body.
He literally could spend every minute of every day just sitting next to you and soak up your presence and he would be the happiest person alive. Thatâs why he cherishes your friendship to him so strongly, and thatâs why itâs the worst thing that Spencer is, well, himself.
He knows that you would probably be too nice to outright state that something he does unsettles you. Changes the way you think about him. Still. There is the worry. Buried so deep in his mind itâs as if he was born with it. And thatâs why heâs so relieved that he is keeping the worst of the âReid effectâ at bay while working with you on this twisted painter case.
It all goes well, until it doesnât. Of course. Good things never seem to last for Spencer.
Itâs already later in the afternoon on the fourth day you are working the case, no end in sight, unfortunately. Spencer is bend over the table, hands entwined in front of his mouth as heâs staring down the printed pictures of the unsubâs latest victim from three days ago. The brushstrokes seem remarkably stable, the colours uncannily vibrant. Spencer does not know much about art, but he does recognise talent when he sees it. And this unsub seems to have it in abundance. Itâs almost a shame heâs a deranged killer. But oh well.
He jumps in his seat when the door to his room abruptly bangs open and a dishevelled looking you is bustling into the room.
Your expression turns apologetic. âOh Spencer, shit, sorry. I didnât wanna startle you, but they just found another victim.â
And oh. Spencer feels his heart sink in his chest. Guilt tugging it further down into the abyss. Why wasnât he faster with figuring out these paintings?
âReally? Where?â
You immediately launch into a rapid-fire list of details, all in the wrong order because you do tend to be a bit all over the place. Spencer doesnât mind. Gives him a bit more of a challenge to order the information in his brain the way it works for him. You two work surprisingly well in that regard.
While talking, you round the desk that almost takes up all the little space available in the room. You sit in the chair next to him, so close he can feel the stressed warmth radiating from you and it takes a very good portion of his brainâs capacity to stop his hand from reaching out. Or do something else even stupider. More stupid? Oh hell. Itâs a wonder he can talk in complete sentences with you.
He watches you pull out your phone, fingers typing in the passcode he guessed right after two weeks of knowing you. The indignant expression on your face had been adorable. Thatâs why he still guesses your new passwords weekly, just to mess with you a little bit. Because heâs apparently insane like that.
âHereâ, you turn the display of your phone towards him, âPrecinctâs out of ink. Do you mind looking at the pictures on my phone until I come back from the store?â
This is where Spencer should have said no. Declined politely, smile on his face. Tell you that sorry, I donât really get the same detail on screen like on a printed version. Shouldâve emigrated to Tristan da Cunha, change his name to Ferdinand. Whatever. Anything, except say, âOh, of course. Thatâs no trouble.â
You smile that breathtaking smile of yours, fingers touching his slightly while giving him your phone. Spencer sucks his lower lip between his teeth to keep himself from making any kind of noise at the tingly feeling skittering down his back.
He canât not smile back at you. Itâs one of his many weaknesses. Jello, trying to out-solve himself every day with New York Timesâ new crossword puzzles, dairy. Halloween themed socks. Old obscure movies no one has ever heard of. Reading the most difficult books in twenty minutes. You.
Once you left, Spencer starts diligently going through the photographs of their latest victim. Not yet identified white male. Average height, average weight. Short-buzzed sandy brown hair. Striking blue eyes that seem to stare at him accusingly even after death.
He works through approximately forty pictures taken off the intricate and detailed body art. This time, the unsub left many smaller paintings woven in a bigger, overall painting. Thereâs still one that Spencer hasnât seen a close up of, thatâs kind of hidden behind the victimâs ears. Maybe you saved it to a different folder. He clicks around your gallery for some time, opening and closing folders full of holiday pictures. Pictures of you, smiling, at the beach. A folder full of memes that he doesnât get but is familiar with because you keep sending them to him anyways. Spencer is aware that he probably shouldnât have just- perused your gallery like that. But he was in case-mode. Hyper-focused on finding the next clue, on detangling the next hint that would bring them further. That would finally be the key to end this case and bring justice to all the victims.
He isnât really thinking, when he clicks on a folder titled âxxx lolâ. Thinks itâs another one full of memes because of the abbreviation, but maybe you accidentally saved pictures of the case in there, wouldnât be too out of character for you and-
Spencer sucks in a breath.
Drops your phone almost as an afterthought. The noise of it clattering to the table makes him flinch.
It lands display down. Small mercies and all that.
And Spencer is- he is-
⌠That was not-
Not -
Thereâs a weird buzzy feeling in his limbs, his chest and head. Like his blood turned into a swarm of bees. He feels like someone dumped a bucket of ice over his head and like heâs on fire simultaneously.
Okay. Okay.
That was not- pictures of the case.
Definitely not.
Oh Jesus Christ.
Spencer was definitely not supposed to see. That. Not supposed to see you- like that. Ever.
His heart is totally beating itself into a frenzy. There are at least two litres of blood rushing to his head. The other four are gathering somewhere down down down and oh. Oh shit.
Spencer is actually fucked. More than that. He wants to get fucked and thatâs. Just. Even worse.
He wants to scream.
He ends up biting his knuckles and letting out a frustrated noise against his fingers.
Did he really.
Did he really just see your nudes?
(And yes, he knows that word. Penelope is a bad influence on him.)
His head is kind of a- a mess. More than usual when you are around. And⌠what. What does he do now? He canât just- canât just leave your phone like that. Youâd obviously see what he was looking at and thatâs just- unacceptable.
But the other option appears just as preposterous. Because, because, heâd have to look at your phone again. At you, like that, again. To get out of âxxx lolâ. Damn you. Why did you have to be so unserious and name your, uhm, very personal folder like that? And no password-block?
Spencer feels a different kind of warmth enveloping him because itâs just- so you, silly and funny and kind of unbelievable and Spencer is so deeply in love with you that he feels like heâs going crazy with it. Of course, youâd be like that about stuff like that as well. Spencer would give everything to just once experience what itâd feel like to kiss you. To feel your lips twisted in a silly smile against his, flicking a finger at his ear because you would. Do that. When kissing someone. And okay. Okay. Spencer needs to get his shit together, like, yesterday.
You could come back any second now, actually and fuck. He needs to close the gallery app on your phone, asap.
His hands are trembling as they retrieve your phone from the table.
He allows himself a deep breath. And then. With eyes squeezed almost close, he taps the return arrow. Well, tries to. He thinks he managed to escape your nudes-folder without any hiccups but well.
Spencer is freaking inept with technology.
So. He finds himself looking at another picture of you and god, it actually might kill him.
Itâs inappropriate. So so so so inappropriate. You would kill him dead if you ever knew Spencer was ogling your pictures like that. Like a perverted stalker.
But. But.
There shouldnât even be a âbutâ.
But.
Youâre just. Youâre just- Youâre incredible. Not even in a sexual way, just-
Youâre so beautiful it hurts.
And call Spencer selfish, a pervert, whatever. Because he knows, okay? But he also knows that heâd never, ever get to see you like that. And it hurts in a different way now, because Spencer just wants. Wants you so much. You and you, just you.
ButâŚheâd never get to have you. Which is fine, of course. Having you as a friend is actually one of the best things that ever happened to him, and heâd never do anything to endanger that-
âŚWell. Heâs not perfect. So, sue him, for only once, giving into his deepest darkest desires. Heâs only human. And pathetically in love with you. And attracted to you. Oh, he wants to be with you so badly. Wants to- wants to get kissed and held by you. Wants to make love with you, which just. Sounds so dumb and cliche. But maybe he just is that for you.
Still. He shouldnât think how absolutely breathtaking you look, sprawled across the white linen of presumably your bed. He knew you worked out regularly, but. Spencer feels hot all over when he thinks how easily you could just. Manhandle him around. To wherever you wanted him. And this is something he apparently likes. (He consciously stores that information away for later. Later.)
He shouldnât think how you would tease him, how you would make him beg for you before heâd even taken off his clothes. He would. He would beg for you, go on his knees. Everything, everything.
He shouldnât think how warm and safe youâd make him feel, even after knowing heâs inexperienced in everything. Youâd take his face in your hands, smile at him so beautifully heâd cry. Tell that ugly internalized shame to go âfuck off to Jupiterâ.
Oh, he shouldnât be looking at you like this. He shouldnât, shouldnât, shouldnât.
But thereâs always so much he shouldnât do. Friends shouldnât think of other friends like that. Friends donât imagine how it would feel to be taken apart and put together again by their friend. Friends shouldnât want to touch, touch, touch-
Maybe, for once, he just. Has enough of that. Maybe, he could just. Indulge. For a minute. To know what itâd be like. Just. A little.
To know what itâd be like if this picture was meant for him. What itâd be like- Be like to see you. And for you to see him. Like that. What itâd feel like to crawl into your lap, bury his face in your neck. Set his teeth on the gentle skin there and hear you gasp for him. How youâd bury your hands in his hair, and heâd make the most miserable noises until you pulled and-
Something in the corner of his eyes catches his attention and- shit.
Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit.
Thatâs you. Walking towards the door.
His hands are shaking so badly he has difficulties navigating your phone. But thankfully, this time, he manages to leave âxxx lolâ and find his way back to the evidence folder.
Oh god.
Oh god.
Did he actually- He actually-
The door springs open. Spencer startles kind of violently.
(Oh god.)
You have a big grin on your face. Some magenta ink smutched across your left cheek. And Spencer knows what you look like without-
âHeya, Spence, you wonât believe what just happened-â
(Oh god.)
âUh⌠you okay there?â
His face feels like itâs on fire. His heartbeat is spiking and, well. Heâs never been quite this turned on his entire life. He feels himself hard and aching against his trousers and Spencer wants you to push him down on the table and-
Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god-
He needs to- leave. Right now.
âFineâ, he squeaks, voice all over the place and he cringes, âJust-â
He wags his hands around in a very confusing, general manner. Grabs some photographs.
âI need to- Need to. Bathroomâ, is all he somehow manages, photographs surely placed in front of his, ahhhh, problem.
You look at him as if he lost his mind. He probably has.  âOh-kay? Then⌠go?â
Spencer goes.
------------------------------
Spencer canât stop thinking about those pictures.
Heâd known it would come to this. Him, lying wide awake on the uncomfortable hotel bed.
Having an eidetic memory has never felt more like a curse to him as now.
He buries his head further into the pillow. Fingers digging into it. Pulling his legs closer to him and, ah. That. Probably wasnât the greatest idea of his.
Heâs still- turned on. Uncomfortably so.But just thinking of taking care of that. Well. Heâs 100% sure that thatâs not the way to go about forgetting these pictures.
Also, itâs bad enough already that he even saw them. It would be so much creepier to jerk himself off to them. To you. His best friend. But- ugh.
Itâs always kind of uncomfy for him to be away on a case. He prefers his own four walls over anything else, kind of, except maybe the university library. And now, being sexually frustrated away on a case that requires even more focus than other cases do?
Oh, Spencer is so fucked.
------------------------------
You notice that something is off with him. It really would have been a miracle if not, because then Spencer wouldâve had to question your profiling skills. But even then- he doesnât think that youâd even need to have these skills to notice him acting off.
Because Spencer is so not the person to play incidents like that cool. He is painfully aware of that, thank you very much.
So, the next day, when you came to say hi to him (âHey there, Mr. Doctor.â), after he basically ran off the day before, and you, as always, casually put your hand on his shoulder, Spencer, he-
He spit out his coffee.
He could feel you freeze through the hand on his shoulder. Your expression wouldâve been comical if Spencer wasnât dying.
âUhh⌠Do you⌠Do you need a moment?â
Well, that was a freaking understatement. Spencer needs not a moment but all of them to try to get his act together.
âŚwhich he didnât. Not for the rest of that day, and also not for the day after. And the day after. This case apparently will never end. Fucking Florida.
You, of course being the kind soul you are, tried talking to him.
(âSpencer, are you okay? Youâve been acting kinda-â
âWhat? What do you mean? Iâm fine, completely.â
âUhm⌠Sure. If you wanna talk about it, you got my number.â)
And well. Spencer feels like he is going insane.
Itâs come down to him not being able to spend more than thirty minutes uninterrupted in your vicinity without getting semi-hard, because he knows. Without him almost doing something stupid and drop to his knees then and there and beg you to either forgive him or to please let him eat you out.
Ah, yes, because apart from being so frustrated he could scream, heâs also feeling so guilty itâs slowly killing him.
There you are, still being his absolute favourite person on the planet, unaware of what kind of person you are laughing with. Of what Spencer did. It was an accident yes, but- He shouldâve said something. Maybe warned you so that it would not happen again. Ugh, but the more time passes the worse it gets. The more impossible it feels to just- go to you and say âah, uhm, by the way, I saw your nudes and maybe you should put those behind a password blockâ.
Spencer is just- the worst friend. What friend doesnât give their friend a heads-up about something like that? Heâ so, hopeless, incompetent, and he gets it now why he didnât have that many friends in school.Â
Itâs gotten so bad so quickly that the others started noticing too, obviously. It really is a curse working with profilers. Spencer should reconsider his move to Tristan da Cunha.
âWhatâs got pretty boy so worked up, huh?â, Morgan asked him on the day after the incident.
âDid something happen, Spence?â, JJ pulled him aside on the second day after.
âAre they cancelling Doctor Who?â, Emily, on the first day after.
âKid, you need to eat somethingâ, as Rossi pressed a protein bar into his hands.
Even Penelope texted him.
is it what i think it is? ;))))))
He did not dignify her with an answer.
When Hotch comes to him on the evening on the second day after, Spencer is a mess. Heâs practically spent the entire day in some state of fluster. He noticed heâs trailing off when heâs info-dumping. That heâs just- staring off into space more often than he usually does. That he canât talk to you properly without stuttering, that he avoids looking you in the eyes. So, it really was only a matter of time until their unit chief would scold him. Or whatever Hotch is here to do.
âListen, Reidâ, he says, tone of voice a little too similar to when he is talking to Jack when he did something mildly inconvenient, âwhatever it is, and I donât want to know unless itâs something bad, deal with it. We need you with a clear head here, okay?â
And well, that couldâve gone a lot worse.
------------------------------
He still thinks so once he falls into bed that evening. But now-
Deal with it.
How? How should he deal with that? Itâs not like he can just press the âDeleteâ-button in his memories. Thanks for nothing, Hotch.
His eyes strain from staring at the ceiling in the dark. Closing them doesnât really help because all heâd see is you. Heâs such a mess.
A pining, pathetic loser mess and heâs so hard again he canât properly think. Itâs just- Spencer has had rather inappropriate thoughts about you before. Has actually spent way too many hours in his apartment just lazing around, thoughts occupied on all the countless ways heâd like you to make him lose his goddamn mind. It had been kind of an accident (isnât that just the story of his life), the first time it happened.
Spencer had almost been finished with his report, heâd just needed an additional detail from you to finish up. Heâd asked Morgan where you were, and this is how he found himself walking down the corridor to Penelopeâs âDungeonâ. Which, heâd never say out loud because thatâs just ridiculous, right?
He saw the door to her office was slightly ajar, a mix of yellowish-red light splitting the hallway in half where it spilled out of the open gap.
Thereâs a giggle coming from inside the room and Spencer smiles- canât help it really, because your laugh is just so absolutely ridiculous, a kind of high-pitched screech that ends in airy laughter and heâs so obsessed with it he wants to engrave it on a CD to listen to it again and again.
âNo way, gorgeous, I donât believe thatâ, Penelope whisper-giggled.
Spencer didnât realize his steps slowed down, too curious by what you two could be talking about. And also, kind of forgetting that you shouldnât just listen to other peopleâs conversations like that.
âOh yesâ, your voice was low, and Spencer would be lying if he said it didnât send a tingle along his spine, âHe broke up with me, but he came crawling back to me not even two months later because I apparently âruined himâ for anyone else.â
Ruined him? What did you mean?
Both Penelope and you were laughing now, louder than before.
âYou really, really gotta teach me your devious ways, buttercup.â
You snicker. âI guess it all boils down to making them come so hard they cry and forget their own name, really.â
Spencer didnât get the detail he needed from you that day.
Heâd gotten something much worse and that was curious. From the limited sexual encounters heâs had in his life before (a rushed hand-job somewhen in university in a toilet cubicle by that one other student he was into back then) he couldnât really imagine something like sexual gratification that made one cry. Sure, getting himself off felt good. Sure, that orgasm had been fine. But⌠it could feel better?
He kind of didnât think of that before.
So, when flustered-he had returned to his apartment after that overheard conversation, he kind of⌠thought about what these things could be that you did, to make others feel so good they lose the basic functions of their memory.
And the rest is basically history.
Of course, heâd never touched himself while doing⌠research about your techniques. It just felt- wrong. You are his friend and despite of his crush on you, it didnât feel right.
But nowâŚ
He really really shouldnât. But, heâs just so- desperate. For you and for things to go back to how they were. Without him almost bursting at the seams each time you look at him because before, he never had any problems with categorizing his mind like he does now.
So maybe⌠Maybe he can just⌠Do it once? Real quick, to get it out of his system?
The longer Spencer turns the thought in his head, the more⌠it seems like a good idea. Youâd never know. Spencer could forget about- about the accident and move on. Solve the case and finally leave cursed Florida behind. If he just does it this one time, itâs not that bad right?
The fuzzy pleasure that shoots up his spine when he finally, finally presses his hand against himself through his pyjama pants answers him. Yes, yes, it says and more more more-
Spencer has never been good in denying himself things that make him feel good, better than good, things that make him forget about any pain that has nestled inside of his body or mind. Right now, that thing is you. Oh, perfect beautiful lovely you. He canât stop the way his lips twitch into a smile, almost shy, even though heâs alone. But something about you just-Â
He gasps, back arching a little when he slides the palm of his hand along himself, still through two layers of fabric.
Something about you just- god, how can he put this into words- something about you just makes him feel- safe. Seen. Taken care of. And itâs just, so foreign to him. Strange. Heâs always been looking after himself. After dad left and mom-
Heâs kind of addicted to it. To the way you make him feel. Spencer canât get enough of it, canât get enough of you. Never never enough.
His fingers trail circles around the head of his cock, light and unhurried, enjoying the shivers of good good amazing it sends through his limbs, to his fingertips. Spencer can feel the tension leaking out of him, can feel his muscles relax and his mind become hazy. He should do this more often, god he always forgets how good it is, it feels.
He almost forgets why he decided to get off right now. It had something to do with you. You. Naked and there, here with Spencer. He whines a little because you arenât here, why arenât you here he wants that so badly-
But all he has is the crystal-clear mental snapshot of your nudes. Spencer doesnât remember ever remembering something with such clarity before. He feels kind of embarrassed by that, how obviously desperate he is for you. How he would do everything for you, with you. But this feels so good that he doesnât care about any kind of embarrassment or shame that might trigger his self-loathing.
He increases the pressure of his palm slightly, oh god oh oh, itâs so good already and Spencer hasnât even touched yet, not properly at least, but oh. Oh, he wants moremoremore-
Itâs so easy letting his thoughts tangle, mixing old and new. Fantasies and reality. The you from the pictures merges with the you from his daydreams and oh shit. Oh fuck.
Spencer moans, high and needy at the back of his throat and god how are you so beautiful?
Imagined-you has absolutely nothing on the real you. Spencer could have never himself come up with you because he just lacks the imaginative capabilities to conjure the absolute vision you are. The vision you portray on those freaking pictures that have branded themselves into his very neurons. Heâs sure, absolutely sure, that he will never get over them. Over you. Doesnât even really want to.
Because he is quite certain that the sight of you, your stomach your thighs your arms your tits your- oh he forgot where he was going with this.
By now, Spencerâs hand has dipped beneath his pyjamas and beneath his boxers and he moans again, his lips pulled between his teeth and eyes shut because the feeling of good good better more almost peaks when he grabs himself, finally.
His right hand starts an even, slow pace along his cock because if he is only ever doing this once, he is going to make most of it.
It doesnât take long for him to get close, though. Heâs been so wound up the last few days, it really is no surprise. Itâs actually more surprising he hasnât come all over himself already.
Soft, keening noises are continuously spilling from between his lips, hips moving together with his hand because he just canât help himself. The heat in his abdomen is building and building and he whimpers because he wants it to be you so so badly, his thoughts are a mess, he is a mess and he wishes he could be your mess, yours, yours to make a mess of and oh god heâs going to-
A knock. On his door.
He freezes, blood rushing loud in his ears, heart pounding and his cock hot in his hand and begging him to not stop but-
âSpencer? Itâs me, can you let me in?â
â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â
pt. II? đ
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x you#tinywrites#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x reader fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader smut#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds smut#tinywrites:accidents
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Banished
jason todd x fem!reader
aka jason misses his girlfriend
warnings: extremely mild angst, heâs just mopey (heâs fine)
Jason sits slumped over the kitchen island, head lying in his crossed arms. His now soggy cereal disregarded after barely a few bites.
Dickâs been rummaging through the cabinets for the better part of twenty minutes and Tim sits atop of the nook table shoving donuts in his mouth for the better part of thirty.
Damian trudges past them to the nook bench, taking out a knife and beginning to whittle away at a block of wood.
He glances at Jason with a scowl. âIf youâre going to be so miserable, canât you do it in your own home?â
Jason just grunts.
He wishes. You and Bruce had conspired to trap him at the mansion for the week so he could heal from injuries sustained during the last mission without risk of him suiting up and sneaking away from you in the middle of the night.
Itâs not even the fact that heâs basically being babysat thatâs got him so disgruntled. He wouldnât mind it at all if you were here too. But you were dead set that the manor was too far out of your way for work, so youâd stay behind. A lose-lose for Jason.
âHeâs just mad his girlfriend kicked him out,â Dick teases, swiping through the fridge.
Tim snorts from the doorway, âMe too. Heâs a lot more depressing on his own.â
Jason kept his head down as he blindly reached for the spoon in his cereal and chucked it at Timâs head.
Tim catches it without thought, continuing, âA lot more irritable, at least. Why isnât she here?â
âSheâs gotta work,â Dick says, scanning through the pantry.
Damian peeps his head up from his project. âBut Todd has a rather large supply of less than legally obtained money, does he not?â
âYeah, but she said she wants to pay her own rent, I think,â Dicks hums, finally giving up on his quest for a snack.
Damian pauses.
âSo she wants to live in a tiny apartment?â He asks, a mixture of confused and horrified.
âWatch your mouth,â Jason mumbles.
âIt was a genuine question!â Damian protests, face screwed up.
Jason finally lifts his head up, turning to his little brother with a raised brows. âAnd Iâm genuinely going to break your nose.â
Itâs an empty threat, maybe. But it was enough to shut Damian up anyways. Jason turns back to his cereal and swishes the bowl around.
Dick rests his arms on the counter across from Jason and speaks lowly. âYou know, it is just a few days. Sheâs coming back.â
âYeah, whatever.â
Jason was never one for showing his feelingsâlet alone talking about them.
He misses you, plain and simple. Dick could see that much clearly, though the longing looked unfamiliar on Jason.
Bruce lingers in the hallway, just past the island, listening.
Heâll admit (to himself) that heâs worried about Jason. Itâs been three days and Jason has yet to show a crack in this demeanor. And while itâs not uncommon for him to stow himself away, there is something quite wrong with the way he hasnât countered his brotherâs jabs at him or teased them.
And while he could do without the blatant threats, heâs proud to hear his son defending his girlfriend, even over trivial things. Itâs one of the few moments where he feels like he did right by him as a father.
And now hereâs his son, caring about someone else more than he cares about himself. Someone whoâs a good person, no less. It had been your idea to trick Jason into staying at the manor, you were scared that he would push his body past its limit when you couldnât do anything to help.
Bruce knew you didnât feel great about basically banishing him for the week but he could see that you just wanted what was best for Jason. He could see it so clearly. Maybe Bruce could never have been a perfect father, could never have given his son everything he needed despite having more money than he could ever use. Maybe he couldnât help him, even now.
But you could.
Bruce peers around the corner, leaning up against the doorframe.
He watches Damian give up on carving at his block and start into the leg of the table.
He watches the bickering that broke out after Tim grab the last glazed donut, which was apparently the only thing Dick could possibly fathom eating.
And he watches Jason.
As Jasonâs phone lights up on the counter next to him. He glances down at it with a frown before his face absolutely lights up.
He scrambles to pick the phone up and starts typing away. A quiet action that catches the attention of all of his brothers.
He types and types, waits for ten seconds for a response and types and types againâsmile on his face.
The Waynes didnât need to be the greatest detectives in the world to know who he was texting.
⨠reblog fics or face the block button â¨
#jason todd loves his gf#jason todd x reader#jason todd imagine#jason todd fanfiction#jason todd fanfic#red hood x reader#red hood imagine#red hood fanfiction#red hood fanfic#dc imagine#dc x reader#dc fanfic#dc fanfiction#batfam x reader#batfam imagine#batfam fanfic#batfam fanfiction#jason todd x you#red hood x you#batfam x you#batfamily x reader#batfamily imagine#batfamily fanfic#batfamily fanfiction
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Danny holding a glowing jar: What is this? Clockwork: Oh, that's some human soul I won in a poker game with a few demons. Danny:A human soul? What the hell did you bet that was the same value as a human soul? Clockwork: Your hand in marriage Danny: I BEG YOU FINEST PARDON?! Clockwork: Relax, I won, didn't I? Now I have a neat soul in a jar. Danny: Who does this even belong to? Clockwork:A child. Danny: .....you're giving this back. Clockwork: What? Why? The child wasn't even using it. Danny: I'm taking the soul back. What's the child's name? Clockwork: *Sigh* Fine, ruin my fun. The boy is called Subject 514A. Danny: What kind of name is that? Clockwork: He's a clone of another human child that was experimented on and was never given a personal name. Hence, Subject 514A. His body is currently deteriorating as we speak. If he stays in his current dimension, Death will claim him. Danny: WHAT!? We got to do something! Clockwork: I can't in his current dimension. Death has jurisdiction there as Fate has set that child's life to end. Danny: .....you set this jar out to appeal to my Savior complex and help you get back at Death and Fate didn't you? Clockwork: I KNOW THOSE TWO CHEATED AT CARDS! So I figured stealing one of their little humans and moving him into a nearby dimension a few years ahead would drive them up a wall. They have no power there since the timeline is my jurisdiction! Danny: And I wouldn't let anything happen to Subject 514A, meaning that the world would accommodate the Ghost King and the child under his care. You're using me a pawn in your petty game. Clockwork: You're still going to take that boy and raise him. Danny: Yeah, because I have the body to be a perfect DILF, but that's beside the point! I mean if he's a clone would the orginal be in the new dimension? Clockwork: Yes, but Bruce Wayne would be a full-grown adult with multiple children of his own instead of a sixteen-year-old adolescent like Subject 514A. Danny: Great, a teenager in angst. why not. Clockwork watching Danny leave through a portal to grab his new son: All according to plan. Soon, Wayne will assume Danny is raising his unknown, ill son, and my ship will sail once they get to know each other. he ha he ha he ha.
#dcxdpdabbles#dcxdp crossover#from a fic i never wrote#Danny finds Subject 514A#514A from Gotham TV show#Clockwork is messing with Danny#Subject 514A is shock when Danny pops up and whisks him away#Gods play poker games and it's super competative
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not according to plan | hjs
summary: your ex-fiance is getting married and everyone you know is going to be there. when he calls to ask if you're coming, you accidentally mention a boyfriend. which would be fine, if you weren't very single. thankfully your best friend comes through with the perfect solution when he sets you up with a friend of his. what could possibly go wrong?
pairing: joshua x f.reader genre: fake dating, strangers to friends to ?? | fluff, slight angst, smut rating: explicit, minors DNI word count: ~22.1k notes/warnings: johnny suh as the ex-fiancee (sorry, he's not great in this), other idols born in '95 used as background characters, mentions of past cheating, food & alcohol, lots of "dates", reader is referenced as coming from a rich family, mention of being an escort (minus the sex?) smut warnings: making out, multiple smut scenes (kind of, it could be a continuation), multiple orgasms, teasing, they're both v obsessed with each other's bodies, protected sex, fingering, nipple play, oral sex (f. receiving), scratching/marking, squirting, overstimulation, use of lube, i think that's it (but let me know if it's not)
author's note: this fic is dedicated to the lovely @shuadotcom, i'm so sorry it took me literal months to finish fake dating!joshua but here we are anyway. i'm not sure how this one got so away from me either lmao. banner credit to the beautiful @wongyuseokie who (again) did this very last minute. thank you to @wonwussy & @kwanisms for the mid-fic beta. thank you to @wooahaeproductions, @horanghater, @cheolism, & @hannieween for listening to me talk about this and helping with things like petnames & dates.
taglist at the end (& join my permanent taglist here)
âItâs fine, itâs been years and Iâm over it. Plus, Iâve been seeing someone anyway and heâs great. So I wasnât ignoring your invite,â you say without a second thought.Â
Itâs just a stream of consciousness. The lie comes flying out of your mouth faster than your brain can process it. Thatâs exactly what it is, too. A lie. Youâre not seeing anyone and havenât been in a serious relationship since the person on the other end of the call broke your heart.Â
âOh, wow, sorry, I didnât mean toâŚwell, I didnât know. My mom didnât say anything when she said she had spoken to your mom about whether or not you were coming to the wedding,â Johnny says with a little bit of ramble.Â
âYou know how my mom can be, I havenât had the chance to tell her yet,â you deflect.Â
âIâm happy for you, then,â Johnny says.Â
âThanks, Iâm happy for you, too,â you force out. Somehow, it doesnât sound like the lie you know that it is.
âSo, itâs 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 havenât RSVPâd yet, butâŚâ Johnny starts.
âNope! Not weird at all,â you utter, hoping that your voice sounds even. âItâd be weirder if I wasnât there, right?âÂ
âProbably, yeah,â Johnny says. âThatâs 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.âÂ
âThatâs so thoughtful, but I wouldnât want to put you out. I know how expensive weddings can be,â you say and try to sound sincere.
âNo, itâs no issue, actually. We have a few extra seats that we left just in case we forgot someone or didnât know about someoneâs partner,â Johnny presses. âSo weâll see you both there?â
âYeah, you will,â you hurry out. This conversation needs to be over.Â
Itâs only an hour after hanging up with your ex-fiancee that your mom calls to tell you she canât believe she had to hear it from Mrs. Suh that youâre 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 havenât ever been all that close, so she shouldnât be surprised that you havenât mentioned him. She made her side pretty clear when she maintained her friendship with Johnnyâs new fiancĂŠe. 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 didnât know you were seeing someone seriously.Â
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 youâre even between any sort of casual sex. Now, when you donât 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.Â
âWell hello,â your best friend answers.Â
âJeonghan, I fucked up,â you say without preamble.Â
âThis is gonna be good,â he responds.Â
âI just got off the phone with my mom,â you begin.
âWhat did she want?â he asks, knowing that it wonât be anything good.
âWell, you know, to talk about this new boyfriend of mine,â you continue.
âYou havenât dated anyone in forever,â Jeonghan chuckles.Â
âThank you for that,â you snark. âAnd then, of course, I get a text from my perfect sister wondering why sheâs also just hearing about this boyfriend of mine.âÂ
âWhy do your sister and your mom think youâre dating someone?â Jeonghan asks.
âOh, well, you know. Johnny called today,â you offer.
âFuck that guy,â Jeonghan interjects.
âHe wanted to know why I hadnât responded to his wedding invite and assumed it was awkward because I was single, so I told him I was seeing someone,â you finally finish.
âFor fuckâs sake,â Jeonghan says into the silence and you can imagine his face.
âRight? My life is a fucking mess and now Johnny thinks that Iâm bringing my boyfriend,â you groan.
âIâll start planning the story for why you suddenly left town,â Jeonghan says.Â
âFor real, my life is over,â you whine.
âWhat are you gonna do?â Jeonghan asks softly.Â
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, heâs unfailingly kind and caring to the people he holds dear. He absolutely hates getting into any kind of real conflict with his friends. Thereâs that whole side to him that honestly wouldnât hurt a fly and always has a way to comfort. Thatâs the side that you get now.Â
âI donât know,â you answer, voice just as quiet. âIâm justâŚI donât want to let him win, you know?â
And Jeonghan does know. Youâve 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, heâs the best friend anyone in the world could ask for.Â
Before he got around to setting up the bridal shower, which heâd 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 didnât want to act like things were okay when they werenât. 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 didnât say he told you so. This had never been something that crossed his mind.Â
âOkay, youâre gonna hate it, but I have an idea,â Jeonghan says.
âThose are never comforting words coming from you,â slips out of your mouth.
âUsually Iâd yell at you, butâŚâ he trails off.Â
âI swear, if youâre about to say that we pretend to be dating like some romcom, I will hang up the phone,â you warn.
âFirst of all, thatâs rude, Iâm a great boyfriend,â Jeonghan says.Â
âI never said you werenât, Hannie, you know I think youâre gorgeous,â you sigh.Â
âThatâs true, I am,â Jeonghan says through a laugh.
âBut, I also know you remember what an unmitigated disaster it was when we fucked,â you point out, earning an even louder laugh.Â
âWow, and here I thought that it was actually great sex,â he says.Â
âIâm not gonna keep stroking your ego, I already admitted you were gorgeous. I donât need to praise the sex, too,â you declare.
âStroking myâŚcome on, youâre making it too easy,â Jeonghan points out.
âFunny, because I remember you being the easy one that night,â you say, finally managing to get a shot in.
âI hate you,â Jeonghan snorts.Â
âI know,â you answer. âDidnât you say that you had an idea?âÂ
Jeonghan clears his throat. âRight, yeah. Well, I know this guy and maybe he can help you out.âÂ
âWhat is he, an escort?â you snort out.
âDo you want my help or not?â Jeonghan asks.
âYoon Jeonghan, are you about to set me up with an escort?â you challenge.
âNo, of course not, just trust me,â he says.
Just trust me might be the three most terrifying words that could come out of Jeonghanâs mouth, especially when youâre not usually on the receiving end of his schemes. Itâs 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?Â
You still think this is a terrible idea, yet agree to meet Jeonghanâs friend, Joshua, anyway. Apparently, heâs somewhat new to the area, doesnât know many people, and is incredibly easy to be around. Thereâs 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 heâs not that cruel. So, whatever the case, Joshua must at least have some idea of what heâs walking into.Â
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 theyâll be able to meet this new boyfriend before the wedding (because âmeeting him for the first time at a wedding is gaucheâ and we wouldnât want that). Your sister is convinced that he doesnât actually exist since you havenât 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 doesnât seem to allay her suspicions, though.Â
Then, thereâs the fact that youâre actually meeting Joshua for the first time at dinner. All you wanted was to go for coffee, yet he insisted. You couldnât exactly press the point. Not when youâre planning to ask this stranger to pretend to date you just so that you can avoid the embarrassment at your exâs wedding. On top of that, because Jeonghan really is a demon at his core, you donât know what Joshua looks like. Donât know who to look for. Which leads to you doing the only sensible thing and showing up 5 minutes late for dinner, hoping that heâll already be at the table when you get there.
It works.
When you give the reservation name at the host stand, youâre 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. Itâs not even that you struggle around new people, this is justâŚwell, itâs a lot. Itâs out of anyoneâs comfort zone. Whatever youâre expecting, itâs not the man sitting at the table the host leads you to. He nearly stops you in your tracks.Â
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. Thatâs all without even acknowledging the soft smile on his face. This man would break a thousand hearts without even saying a damn word. While youâre 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.Â
In one fluid motion, heâs 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, thereâs nothing you can do. Youâre completely captivated.Â
âYou must be Joshua,â you say. Brilliant, you think. Thatâs obvious.
âItâs nice to meet you. Jeonghan had nothing but good things to say,â he answers with another smile as he pulls your seat out for you.Â
âI feel like he hardly told me about you,â you respond. Joshua raises a perfect eyebrow at that.
âThen why did you agree to go out with me?â Joshua asks.Â
âGo out withâŚis this a date?â The question comes tumbling out.Â
Joshuaâs eyes widen in genuine confusion. âIs it not?âÂ
âWhat, exactly, did Jeonghan say to you?âÂ
A lot and nothing at all, it turns out. Joshua tells you about how heâs 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.Â
In any case, Jeonghan talked about you pretty freely, a fact thatâs 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 heâs crafty and isnât going to come out and tell this man what youâre really looking for. Typical Jeonghan, honestly. You know that âoffhand commentâ was anything but. And you had the audacity to think Jeonghan would have to tell Joshua what heâs getting into. Rookie move.)
Now youâre in a bit of an awkward situation because this man is honestly gorgeous, one of the prettiest humans youâve ever met. And, already, he seems like he might be sweet with a pretty good sense of humor. Itâs justâŚwell, youâre 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. Itâs 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 didnât actually realize it was a date. Itâs hard to miss the way his eyes seem to sparkle a bit when you also admit that heâs absolutely stunning in a way that hurts your feelings. Easier to miss is the way his face barely falls when you say that youâre not actually looking for something right now. Interesting.Â
âSo thatâs the whole thing and now that Iâve embarrassed myself in front of you, Iâm sure youâll understand if we never see each other after tonight,â you finish.
âHow am I supposed to go to a wedding as your boyfriend in a matter of weeks if we donât see each other after tonight?â Joshua wonders.
âIâŚwhat?â you sputter out.Â
âWell, sure, we need to work out a few details, but Iâm game,â Joshua says with a shrug.
âIâm sorry, I think Iâm just really confused?â You donât even have food yet and this is already the most interesting date youâve been on, possibly ever.Â
âI, uh, may have left a part of my past out when I was sharing what Jeonghan knew about me,â Joshua says. âAnd honestly, I canât believe I didnât catch it or that he did this. Iâd be mad if I wasnât so impressed by how crafty it was.âÂ
âIâm going to need you to connect some dots for me,â you admit. âOh and also never tell Jeonghan you appreciate him being crafty. His ego is too big as it is.â
âThe 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,â Joshua says, pausing long enough for someone to set the appetizer down. âHeâs observant, Jeonghan, Iâll give him that. He noticed I had designer clothes, shoes, that kind of thing. And he noticed I didnât 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.â
âIâm sure he asked you about that, he loves it when he thinks thereâs a scheme,â you note with a smile.
âYouâre right about that,â Joshua agrees. âSo 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, âsomeone young and hotâ with her. And the next four years, thatâs what I did. I let people pay for me to go to events with them. Never more than that. I was clear that I wasnât selling sex or anything, just company.âÂ
You lean back in your seat with an appraising look. âAn entrepreneur from the beginning.âÂ
âHey, no judgment,â Joshua says. All you can do is smile.
âIâm not judging, that was really smart and youâre obviously attractive enough for it,â you acknowledge.
âThank you,â Joshua says. It doesnât have the air of cockiness Jeonghanâs answer would. He actually seems sincere in accepting the compliment.Â
âBut, Iâm still not going to pay you to pretend to be my boyfriend,â you say, even if itâs a bit reluctant.Â
âI wasnât asking you to,â Joshua shrugs. âYou donât have to pay me.â
âWhy would you offer to pretend to do something like this? You donât even know me,â you point out.
âNo, I donât. But, you seem like a good person. And I like Jeonghan, heâs niceâŚâ Joshua says, stopping when you try to cover a scoff.Â
âNice?â you question when youâre caught.
âWrong word choice,â Joshua dismisses. âHe seems like the kind of person thatâs a loyal friend, like he would go into battle to protect you. Like someone you can actually trust.â
âHe is all of those things, yeah,â you admit.
âAnd if those things are true, then him holding you out as his best friend means youâre probably all of those things too,â Joshua reasons.Â
âI try to be,â you agree.Â
âPlus, Jeonghan did mention you had seriously dated someone that was pretty rich, so I figure itâs probably the guy getting married and itâll be a nice wedding,â Joshua says with a smile. The joke is obvious by the look in his eyes.
âItâs interesting that he mentioned Johnny, thatâs my ex, being rich,â you idly comment.
âIs he not?â Joshua wonders.
âJeonghan is a lot of things, but heâd never lie to his friends,â you answer first. âSo, yeah, he is. Well, his family is at least. His mom and mine run a lot of events together, like galas and shit. Thatâs how we all know each other.â
âAre you rich, too?â Joshua wonders. Thereâs that little twinkle of something in his eyes again, but thereâs also sincerity.
âIâm still not paying you,â you retort.
âFine,â Joshua agrees.Â
You roll your eyes. âOkay, so whatâs the plan?âÂ
Thereâs a weird worldâs colliding feeling to having both Jeonghan and Joshua in your apartment. But, Jeonghan doesnât 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 heâs included. Youâll take what you can get. Now, it means that he and Joshua are sitting on your couch, scrolling through pictures on Joshuaâs phone to decide what to include in an instagram post. Thatâs the first step you and Joshua agreed on. If youâre 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 youâve 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.Â
âI think I like this one,â Jeonghan says and turns the phone around to show you.Â
âWhy that one?â you ask.Â
âWhy not? Donât you like it?â Joshua worries.
âI donât know, I feel like my hand is doing something weird,â you point out.
âYou look great,â Joshua assures you.
âOh, ew, youâre not really dating,â Jeonghan complains.Â
âYou do know youâre going to have to stop saying that, right?â you ask.
âMaybe I didnât know either,â Jeonghan shrugs.
âNo, Iâm with her, youâre her best friend and you definitely wouldâve known,â Joshua agrees.Â
âWhy are you on her side already?â Jeonghan whines.
âBecause sheâs cool and sheâs not the one who knew what I did in college and set me up,â Joshua says with a laugh.Â
This is how itâs been going for the last hour. Youâre not really much for putting a lot of effort into your posts, so this all feels like too much. But, you know that itâs important for it to feel real and itâs important to get it right. Youâre 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. Youâre going to take your breaks where you can.Â
(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 hadnât all been taken the same day. Honestly, this was so much easier for Joshua. Then again, heâs 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 heâs been around them a lot. Well, heâs helpful after he tries to scare Joshua about how intimidating itâs going to be only to give up when Joshua is unbothered. Heâs so calm about everything that itâs actually kind of nice to be around. And he has no problem firing back at Jeonghan, which is really fun to watch.Â
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 donât press when he waves it off. Itâs different when you talk about your sister, two years younger and already married. Not that youâre dying to be married or even care that she got married before you. Thatâs always seemed like a weird societal expectation, anyway. What does it matter when anyone gets married? If itâs their right person, then it makes sense. You being upset over your failed engagement really doesnât have anything to do with your sisterâs marriage, despite her instance it does.Â
It becomes obvious that youâre losing Jeonghanâs attention when you turn down his request to start playing games or watch a movie. Itâs not that you donât want to do those things, itâs just that you have a lot to cover in far less time than you realized. Sure, the wedding is still weeks away. Whatâs not weeks away is your first dinner with your family. Thatâs 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 itâs okay to leave and you almost sigh in relief. This will be easier without an extra person.
âNot to pry, but whatâs the deal with you and Jeonghan?â Joshua asks when you settle back on the couch with a glass of wine.Â
âWhat do you mean?â you ask.
âI donât know, I feel like I was picking up on something,â Joshua shrugs.
âWeâre really just friends,â you assure him.
âSometimes those are the bestâŚâ Joshua starts.
âDonât,â you cut off. He worries for a second before he realizes youâre smiling. âWe 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 wasnât it.âÂ
âYou and him slept together?â Joshua questions.
âIs that weird for you?â you ask.
âNo, itâs just interesting that youâre still so close,â Joshua observes.
âI guess,â you say with a shrug. âHeâs great, obviously attractive, but we just, I donât know. I didnât feel anything. Neither did he. So, staying friends seemed like the right choice.â
âInteresting,â is all Joshua says. âHave you dated anyone seriously since Johnny?âÂ
âNot that seriously, no,â you admit. âIâve gone on dates with different people and some of them stuck around for a bit, but nothing serious.âÂ
âNot finding the right people?â Joshua presses.
âI just havenât found anyone that made me feel like Johnny did at the beginning or even like I did when he proposed,â you say.Â
âI can understand that, even if I donât really get it. Youâre gorgeous, anyone would be lucky,â he says smoothly. You cover a blush with a slight eye roll.Â
âI guess thatâs 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,â you share.
âYeah thatâs good for us, at least,â Joshua agrees.
âWhat about you, though? When was your last relationship?â you ask.
âAh, well itâs been a little over a year,â Joshua says.Â
âBad ending?â you wonder. Youâre not sure why you press him on it.
âIt wasnât great,â Joshua says with a chuckle. âShe, uh, well she decided that she just really would rather be with one of my friends than with me.â
âIâm so sorry you went through that,â you say, suddenly sorry.
âNo, no, itâs fine,â he says. âShe didnât actually cheat on me, but she had started getting close to him and sharing everything with him.â
âArguably worse, in my opinion. Emotional cheating is still a thing,â you say, trying to offer comfort.Â
âThank you,â Joshua says. His eyes are soft and full of care. âAnd, like you, I have dated since then, just nothing worth talking about.âÂ
Itâs an easy transition from that into talking about your backgrounds. Like speed dating, except somehow more intense. You learn Joshuaâs birthday, his parents names, that heâs 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 heâs found since moving here. Thereâs a way that his face lights up when he talks about his friends thatâs 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.Â
Thatâs when something seems to almost break down. Joshua suggests that you tell each other the deep stuff, the things that you donât always admit to someone youâre dating. Or, maybe you admit it and donât get into the reasons why. When Joshua goes first and admits that heâs happiest when heâs playing his guitar, even if nobody else is listening, his whole face changes. Itâs like a completely different version of him. Heâs got an open face as it is, that hasnât changed, but you realize maybe heâs 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.
âCan I hear you play?â you ask. His face is adorable with his eyes full of surprise.
âYou want to hear me play?â Thereâs an emotion you canât place when he looks at you.
âI love music, too, Joshua,â you say softly. âIâd love to see what youâre passionate about.â
âOh, well, I usually play at this acoustic night on Thursdays at a coffee shop downtown,â Joshua tells you.
âYou do? Thatâs so cute!â you say before second guessing it. He looks away like heâs a little embarrassed and you worry for a split second.
âIâd love it if you came by,â he says.
âItâs a shame that we canât say thatâs where we met,â you admit.
âWait, that would be a good idea, actually,â Joshua says and you smile.Â
âIt would be, but I also know events like that. Itâs always a similar crowd so Iâm sure someone will know that Iâve never been,â you reason.Â
âFair point,â Joshua concedes.Â
âWhy donât we just say we met on a dating app?â you suggest and Joshua pulls up his face. âOkay, I know apps are lame and honestly, I donât use them much. But, think about it. Thatâs the perfect reason why we didnât bring it up until now, we didnât want to answer the âwhere did you meetâ question by saying an app.âÂ
âOkay, yeah, I do actually like that because itâs easy and it doesnât feel like a wild story,â Joshua says.Â
âWhat about your parents?â you ask. âDo we need to make plans to meet them if youâre also posting about me?âÂ
âWe can figure that out, but they live pretty far away so it would probably just be over FaceTime or something,â he says.
âI also understand if you donât want to do that because weâre just pretending,â you suggest.Â
âNo, itâd be cool to have you meet them. Even if the relationship isnât real, Iâd like to be friends for real, so thatâs not a total lie,â Joshua reasons.Â
âIâd like to be friends too,â you agree. âHow long have you been living here, now?âÂ
âOh, um, like 8 months?â Joshua says like a question.
âI was figuring like a month or two with the way Jeonghan talks about you,â you laugh.Â
âYouâve been friends with him for years, youâre not actually surprised,â Joshua points out.Â
âOkay so now I guess we have to figure out when we started dating,â you comment.
âAnd everything else, but we can do it,â Joshua says.Â
Youâre 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 heâs right on time, which youâre already realizing is a trait of his. Heâs 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.Â
âWhatâs all that?â you ask as he slides into the driverâs seat.Â
âFlowers 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,â Joshua lists off as if itâs nothing.
âYou did not have to get things for all of them,â you point out.Â
âOf course I did, but I also wanted to. Iâm trying to make a good impression,â he says, making your heart a little light.
âThatâs so kind,â you whisper out.
âOh, I thought of something else,â Joshua shifts. Youâre worried you made him uncomfortable until he speaks again. âAre you a pet name person in relationships?â
That makes you snort, something that would embarrass you in any other situation. Itâs not the first time heâs heard it, though. âThat depends on what you want to call me.â
âThatâs a dangerous way to say that,â Joshua answers. His eyes are still on the road, yet you donât miss the way he reacts.
âI donât like overly cutesy names,â you say to diffuse a little bit of the moment. âLike, I donât know, if you want to call me sugarplum or honeybunch or something like that, please donât.â
âYouâre just giving me ideas to take away my fun,â he pouts.
âWell, what were you thinking of calling me? Or are you even a pet name person?â you ask.
âI do like them,â Joshua says. âIâm not sure that I have a go-to or anything. For you, I might say angel or possibly darling.â
âI think I prefer angel, if Iâm allowed to pick,â you say after a moment.
âOf course,â Joshua replies. Studying his face, youâre looking for a hint of mocking or insincerity, but thereâs nothing to find. This is just him.
âDo you want me to use a pet name for you?â you wonder.
âIâd happily take one, no pressure, though,â he says.Â
âIâll have to think about it,â you tell him. âSomething generic like babe doesnât feel right.â
âAre you saying Iâm special?â Now you can hear the light teasing in his voice.Â
âI take it back, any more compliments are going to go to your head,â you huff out.Â
As you get closer to your parentsâ house, you start to bounce your knee with an excess of nervous energy. Itâs not until Joshua reaches a hand out to take one of yours that youâre even sure youâre doing it. Thereâs something calming about it, though. Nothing about him reaching out feels like heâs trying to stop you, just show that youâre 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, itâs not exactly the most comforting thought.
Once you pull up to their house, you take a deep breath. Itâs only to settle your rising nerves, but it also serves to give Joshua enough time to come and open your door. Even though youâve told him that he doesnât 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 youâre out, he uses it to pull you into him and wraps his arms around you. Thereâs this immediate sense of comfort, like you have actually been dating for months. You inhale his cologne without meaning to, something warm and woodsy.Â
âItâs going to be fine, parents love me,â he assures you when you pull away.
âI donât doubt that,â you say, releasing the breath you were holding and your tension with it.Â
âSo come on, my little granola wrapper, letâs go,â Joshua says as he lets you go to get the gifts out of his backseat.Â
It takes you a full few seconds to register what came out of his mouth. âIâm sorry, what did you just call me?âÂ
âIs that not the one?â he asks, eyes alight with some kind of mischief.Â
âIâm not going to encourage this,â you huff.
âWhatever you say, jellybean,â he throws out casually.Â
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 sisterâs 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.Â
Dinner comes along and you still feel like youâve 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 wasnât expecting to meet someone like you and was done for the second he saw you sitting at dinner. Itâs 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, heâs just really good at making people like him.Â
The only hiccup doesnât come until your mother is pulling out dessert. According to your sister, sheâs got an excellent pie in the refrigerator that you simply have to try. Youâre about to say something when Joshua beats you to it.Â
âI donât think my little sugarplum likes fruit pies, but it sounds amazing and Iâd love a piece,â Joshua interjects smoothly.Â
Your sister nearly spits out her drink, whether itâs at the nickname or him speaking up for you, youâre not sure. In any other situation, you would scold him for the name, but youâre a little stunned he remembers you donât like pie. It came up once in a rapid fire of likes and dislikes.Â
âYouâre right, she doesnât,â your sister agrees. âIâd almost forgotten.âÂ
(Thatâs when youâre sure it was another of your sisterâs tests. Trying to catch you in some kind of lie about your relationship. But, it doesnât work and you feel a little victorious for that.)
The doorbell rings through the house and you look to your mother, silently asking if sheâs expecting someone. Itâs unusual for them to have company calling this late on a Friday night. Itâs usually reserved for dinners with friends or family or galas. Unsurprisingly, your mother doesnât 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.
âI really just came by to drop that off for my mom, I didnât realize it was so late. Iâd hate to intrude on dessert,â the guest says.Â
âNonsense, youâre not interrupting,â your mother insists.Â
âI saw an unfamiliar car, so I figured you might have guests,â he says as they come through the doorway into the living area.Â
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. Heâs wearing his hair shorter and he looks more mature, somehow, like heâs seen so much more of the world than when you were together. Which is probably true, if you think about it. Itâs been a couple years and that means heâs had more time working with his father.Â
âThat would be my car,â Joshua says, getting to his feet immediately and extending his hand. âIâm Joshua.âÂ
âJohnny,â he answers and shakes Joshuaâs hand. Yet, his face looks a little tense and his eyes mostly stay on you.Â
âItâs just family,â your mother shares, though Johnny can obviously see that himself, âsince our darling daughter finally brought Joshua around to meet us.âÂ
âIâm glad she did, dinner was wonderful and the company was even better,â Joshua says with a smile at your mother. She nearly blushes at his compliment.Â
âOh, hush,â your mother says with a wave of her hand. âI was just getting some pie if youâd like to stay for a piece, Johnny. Although, Iâd hate to keep you from home.â
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. âGabby has been out of town all week, actually, so Iâm going back to an empty home anyway. Iâd love to stay for a piece of your famous cherry pie.âÂ
âGreat!â your mother says and disappears off into the kitchen.Â
âWhatâs got Gabby away?â your sister asks.Â
âJust a conference,â Johnny answers. âThere was a final banquet tonight and sheâll be home tomorrow.âÂ
âSheâs busy, away this week, bachelorette next weekend,â she says offhand.Â
âKeeping tabs on when everything is?â you ask of your sister. She looks at you like youâre crazy and Johnny looks awkward.
âNo, I was invited to it,â your sister answers evenly.Â
Before you can even answer, Joshua is speaking up. Probably sensing your discomfort. After all, you hadnât gotten to tell him that Johnnyâs fiance is friends with your younger sister. They had gone to school together and been close. Stealing her sisterâs fiancĂŠe doesnât seem to have impacted the friendship.Â
âYou must be excited with the big day getting so close,â 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.Â
âUh, yeah, I mean, Iâm definitely excited. Itâs just been a lot of planning,â Johnny says.Â
âI bet,â Joshua says. âThank you so much for inviting me, I know how stressful changes can be.âÂ
âItâs no problem, Iâm happy youâll both be there,â Johnny says.Â
With almost a practiced subtlety, Joshua squeezes your hand. Thereâs so much in that one movement. A reassurance, a reminder to breathe, a reminder that heâs 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 doesnât hurt as much as you expected. Maybe that has something to do with this impossibly kind, completely idiotic person next to you. You also canât 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. Itâs like thereâs 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 heâs eating his pie is so fond that youâre not even sure who you are.Â
âI canât believe you didnât call me last night,â Jeonghan says in lieu of a hello.
âHello to you too, Iâm good, thanks for asking,â you retort.
âGreetings 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,â Jeonghan states immediately.
âThatâs a very long rule,â you note.
âDeserved, though,â Jeonghan says.
âI was tired, Han, it was a long night,â you explain.
âA long night where your ex showed up,â he reminds you.
âThat actually wasnât so bad,â you admit. âJoshua made it feel pretty easy.â
âOh did he now?âÂ
You donât have to be in the same room as Jeonghan to hear the expression on his face when he says that. âIt was just easy, Jeonghan, nothing more than that.â
âWhat did your parents think?â he asks, switching gears.
âThey 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 couldnât find anything to fault him for,â you share.
âSheâs less of an ice queen and more of a mean girl and a bitch,â Jeonghan adds.
âYou said it,â you mumble.
âI mean, come on, who thinks itâs okay for their friend to sleep with their sisterâs fiancĂŠ? And then stays friends with the girl?â Jeonghan gets really defensive with this. He would ride for you to the ends of the world, which you do love. Just not today.Â
âI donât wanna relive that whole thing, itâs done and over. Nothing to do now,â you say, weariness seeping into your voice.
âWould you want to do anything about it?â Jeonghan asks.
âWhat do you mean?â You answer the question with a question.
âLike would you want to go back to when you were with Johnny?â Jeonghan asks.
You think about it for half a second. âNo.âÂ
âThat was fast,â Jeonghan comments.
âWhatâs there to go back to? He made his choice and Iâm fine, honestly. It was weird seeing him and hearing him talk about his wedding, but it wasnât as bad as I thought,â you say.
âIs that because of your Prince Charming?â Your best friend, always doing the most, puts this question into a sing-song voice.Â
âHeâs not a Prince Charming. Youâre so annoying,â you scoff.Â
âI donât know, he sure seems to be saving you,â Jeonghan presses.Â
âI canât withâŚâ you start, trailing off at the knock on your door.
âWhoâs there?â Jeonghan asks.Â
âNo clue,â you answer, getting off your couch to go see.Â
âI bet itâs Prince Charming,â Jeonghan laughs out.
âWould you fuckâŚâ you begin as you open the door to find the very subject of your conversation on the other side, âoff.â
âIâm right arenât I?â Jeonghan is nearly shrieking with glee.
âSorry, gotta go,â you say.
âOh no, no, no,â Jeonghan tries.
Youâre stepping aside to let Joshua into your apartment. âIâll see you tomorrow for brunch.â
âLet me know if I need to add one more to the reservation,â Jeonghan says.Â
âGoodbye,â you say with an eye roll Jeonghan canât see, but will surely hear. You hang up as soon as he also says goodbye.
âJeonghan?â Joshua guesses.
âUnfortunately,â you confirm.Â
âI hope I wasnât interrupting,â Joshua says. Itâs nothing like when someone says it out of forced courtesy. He actually seems like heâs making sure heâs not intruding.Â
âNo, not at all, I just wasnât expecting you,â you admit.Â
âSometimes thatâs the best time to come over,â Joshua says with a shrug.
âDoes that mean you have a plan?â you wonder.
âYup,â Joshua says.
âGonna tell me what it is?â you ask.
âNope,â he says with a concerning smile, popping the end of nope. âGo put on something comfortable but with layers. And weâre not going hiking or anything like that.âÂ
An hour later, youâre pulling off the road in an area youâve never been to, even with as long as youâve 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 whatâs around them. Straight ahead, you can see the way the low clouds glide around, splitting around the very tops of the buildings. Itâs beautiful and it also makes you realize just how small you are.Â
While youâve been appreciating the views in front of you, Joshua has been gathering his supplies from the trunk. By the time you turn around, heâs laying a blanket and basket down on the ground in front of the car.Â
âIs thisâŚdid you set up a picnic?â you ask.
âI wanted to show you this place and figured some food might be nice,â he says with an easy smile.Â
âThatâs so sweet,â you say earnestly.
You settle on the blanket next to him and look through the food heâs pulling out. There are some of your favorite things and some things youâre not even sure youâve 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 thereâs something nice about seeing things from this perspective too. Itâs like he can just disconnect for a while. Turn off his phone. Read or listen to music. Just be totally alone. Itâs how he works through a problem or gets the perspective he needs.
âI canât believe youâre sharing it with me,â you admit and his eyes light up with his smile.
âI just thought, after last night, you might appreciate having a place to get away from it all,â Joshua says.
You want to say something, anything, really, to acknowledge what Joshua just said. Try to say something. Your throat doesnât 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 doesnât 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 didnât even realize you were experiencing.Â
And something about him comforting you, this near stranger who doesnât 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 donât remember it anymore. Donât remember him ever holding you like this without even knowing what was wrong. Donât remember him taking you on a date like this just because he thought you would enjoy it. Since you havenât 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?
âIâm so sorry,â you finally say when you manage to pull yourself together.Â
âFor what?â he asks.Â
âFor just crying like that and being such a mess,â you say.Â
Joshua shakes his head. Moves his hand up to your face and waits for confirmation that itâs okay. When you nod, he gently wipes the tears from under your eyes. âYou have nothing to apologize for. What youâre going through with your ex, most of us could never even imagine that kind of pain.â
âBut still, you barely know me and here you are trying to be kind and all I can do is cry,â you say.Â
âFirst of all, I think last night and the food I put together show Iâve actually learned a lot about you in a short time,â he says and you have to laugh at that. Heâs right. âSecond, Iâm just happy you feel safe enough with me to cry. Itâs not healthy to hold all that in. Youâre not in this alone.â
That brings you up short more than anything. Heâs right, again (an annoying habit, if youâre being honest). You donât feel any hesitation around him. Nothing to stop you from crying if you feel like crying. Thatâs unusual, to say the least. Normally, youâll do anything to avoid anyone seeing you emotional. But, this man you just met is different. Heâs safe. Youâre not sure how or why, but you know you can trust him.Â
âAre you free tomorrow for brunch?â you ask. Joshua gives you a quizzical look for a moment at the sudden topic change.Â
âYeah, why?â he asks.Â
âI 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,â you say and find yourself smiling along with his smile. He really is so beautiful.Â
You: add one to the reservation for brunch tomorrow and iâll call you tonight when iâm home
You switch your phone into Do Not Disturb before the response comes and turn all your attention back to Joshua.Â
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. Itâs not like they would believe you had kept a relationship secret for that long, anyway. And itâs 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. Itâs not that you donât trust them, you do. Itâs 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 doesnât.Â
You meet all Joshuaâs 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 heâs kept you to himself for so long. Itâs easy to fall into step and you find that you do know him a lot better than you think. So, itâs just as easy for you to jump in when theyâre giving him a hard time. He pretends to be annoyed, but you can tell by the way he smiles that he likes it. Itâs one of those genuine smiles that makes his eyes bigger and brighter. Everything just feelsâŚeasy. Like this whole thing wasnât actually a bad idea after all.Â
Your favorite part might be the first time you got with him to an Open Mic Night and get to see him play. Heâs got that easy kind of confidence on the guitar. Like he knows heâs talented, but not in a cocky way. Itâs his singing that catches you off guard. His voice moves over the notes with an ease that makes you wonder why this isnât something heâs doing for a living. Heâs got this way of pulling you into songs that you donât even know. And heâs 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 heâs happy.Â
Thereâs only been one part thatâs 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 youâre 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. Youâve never really been one to just randomly make out with a partner in public, but youâve never been shy about expressing affection either. It was fine, when it was all theoretical.Â
In actual practice, itâs 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 didnât know it was fake caught you off guard. It shouldnât have, he asked before doing it and you confirmed it was fine. What you hadnât 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 wasnât making you rethink everything in your life.Â
Tonight, youâre hanging out with friends at Hyejinâs house. You and her have been friends since before you even started school. So, she knows whatâs really going on with Joshua. Your other friends there, though, are mostly not in on it. Which is fine. Youâre shockingly comfortable with the song and dance.Â
Itâs not actually fine.Â
It starts the same as any other time youâve been out somewhere with him. Youâre 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. Itâs an absentminded habit and youâre used to it. Heâs 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.Â
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 heâs having other conversations, like he doesnât even realize. Hand squeezing your thigh. Or tracing patterns into the material of your pants. Head dropping down on your shoulder when heâs not talking to someone else. And itâs definitely not fine. Youâre nursing your drink, but even if you werenât, his constant presence would sober you. Since youâve just finally finished your first, you think maybe a second is a good idea.
Itâs not. Joshua gets another drink, his third, and you decline. Instead, you stick with the water youâve been drinking since you couldnât 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.Â
âI hope you stick around, youâre my favorite of the partners that weâve met,â Mimi announces to Joshua when he plops back down next to you.Â
Youâre glad that you hadnât taken a sip because it wouldâve come out immediately. Mimi has been a friend for a long time as well, and you love her, but she doesnât know the truth.Â
âDonât I know it,â Joshua agrees, earning a lot of laughter.Â
âHave you met Johnny yet? I know youâre going to the wedding,â Taehyung wonders.Â
âYeah Johnny showed up magically the night I brought him by to meet my parents, sister, and brother-in-law,â you say, regaining some composure.Â
âI think you traded up,â Joshua says, eyes laser focused on you.Â
Youâre not so lucky this time and you just took a sip. You nearly choke. âDo you?â
âDefinitely,â Joshua insists.Â
âI agree,â Jimin says and Mimi elbows him in the side. âWhat?â
âYouâre going to the wedding,â she says.Â
âSo? Heâs a fucking tool,â Jimin shrugs off.Â
âAre you all going, then?â Joshua asks.Â
âA good portion of us, yeah,â Hyejin says. âFamily connections, you know?âÂ
âI wasnât invited,â Mimi pouts.Â
âWant to come?â Taehyung asks and Mimi laughs.Â
âTae, my love, you canât just invite people,â Mimi says and shakes her head.Â
âI have a plus-one,â Taehyung says with a shrug. âI think we all knew I wouldnât make it to the wedding in my relationship. But, Johnny still thinks Iâm bringing someone.â
âDamn, okay. Iâm in,â Mimi says.Â
âIâm not going either, my family ties werenât enough to get an invite,â Jeonghan says without any sorrow in his eyes.Â
âThatâs because of what you said to him after the break up,â Hyejin interrupts with a laugh.Â
âI donât remember saying anything that bad,â Jeonghan shrugs, and examines his finger nails to show how little he cares.Â
âRemind me to show you what he said some time, it was fucking gold,â Hyejin says to Joshua.
âDo you have it saved?â you ask.
âI should have it framed, honestly,â Hyejin says. âGet you a best friend like Jeonghan, for real, for real.âÂ
âHey, thatâs my best friend, get your own,â you joke.Â
âThatâs a shame you wonât be there though, Han, I couldâve used the familiar face,â Joshua says.
âLike youâre going to be paying attention to anyone but your date,â Hyejin teases.Â
âCan you blame me? I still canât believe how lucky I got,â Joshua says without any hint that heâs pretending. It makes your heart skip a couple beats as you try to catch your breath.Â
âUgh, Iâm so single,â Mimi whines.Â
âMaybe not after the wedding,â Hyejin teases.Â
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. Heâs so nonchalant about it that youâre not really sure it even happened. Youâve kissed a couple times like that, quick pecks in public. But, itâs always been when youâve talked about it. It isnât until you look up to meet Jeonghanâs eyes that you know it all really happened.Â
Joshua, unaware that heâs just turned your world a little upside down, moves his head to look at you again. âYouâre beautiful, you know.â
Itâs barely a whisper and you know heâs not drunk. Heâs not sober either, though. And youâve had drinks around each other before. Heâs just never been quite so glued to your side or free with the compliments. Youâre also not usually so singularly focused on him. A fact that doesnât go entirely unnoticed.Â
âThank you,â you whisper back.Â
âIâm kinda hungry,â he continues in a bit of a whine.Â
âWell you were the one who thought skipping dinner was smart,â you tease him.Â
âBut my little honeybunch,â 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.Â
âTry again, sweetheart,â you answer.Â
âSweetheart, I like the way that sounds,â he says, distracted.Â
âJust a little longer and we can leave and get something to eat,â you say and he sighs.Â
âFine,â he concedes and kisses your cheek, just barely a whisper away from the corner of your mouth.Â
About half an hour later, you say your goodbyes. Despite your suggestions, Joshua continued drinking instead of switching to water. Itâs as fine as it can be, though. Heâs 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.Â
The car ride is quiet, initially. You pick a playlist that he made for you after you first met. Something he seems to enjoy. Youâre nearly back at his place when he says that he doesnât have anything to eat. But, luckily, thereâs a place around the corner that he loves thatâs 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.Â
âI hope youâll come in and eat with me,â he says when you get back into the car.Â
Youâre not really sure how to tell him that you donât want to. Not because you donât want to spend time with him. Or that you donât appreciate him ordering something he knows youâll like. No, itâs so much deeper than that. Itâs that you donât know if your heart can handle it. Youâve got a couple more weeks of this and your heart is taking a beating. All of this is fake. Itâll be over after the wedding. But, the compliments donât feel fake. The kisses donât feel fake. The affection doesnât feel fake. Your heart racing is real, oh so real. You donât need anyone to tell you that youâre in way too deep.Â
None of that comes out, though.Â
âSure, sweetheart,â you say and hold your breath for a second. You hadnât meant to say that when it was just you.Â
Joshua smiles over at you. âReally do like that.âÂ
Does he know what heâs 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 heâs all the more beautiful because heâs so unfailingly kind?Â
Probably not, because he gets distracted and starts singing along as the song changes. Itâs welcome, but also a little devastating. His voice cuts through you in a way youâre still very unprepared to handle.
After another few minutes, youâre at Joshuaâs place. He springs back into action and tries to open your door for you, even though youâre 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.Â
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 youâre not touching. Hoping he doesnât think anything of it.Â
Itâs useless, apparently, because he slides over to press into your side.
Whatâs 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 donât let him. It takes everything in you not to beg him to be gentle on your heart. He doesnât even seem to realize what heâs doing to you as he smiles and jokes. Doesnât 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. Thereâs nobody here to see and heâs not usually this touchy when youâre alone. Maybe itâs the drinks.
âI like your friends a lot, you know,â he says out of nowhere.
âThey like you, too,â you assure him.
âWhat about you?â he asks.
âIâd assume they like me as well,â you laugh out.
âNo, I meant me. Do you like me?â he asks, eyes big and vulnerable.
Please, Joshua, Iâm begging you. Be gentle with me, you think so loud youâre worried he might hear.
âIâm actually a little sick of you,â you joke.Â
âBut, but,â he begins and dramatically throws himself in your lap.Â
âYouâre the worst,â you say without any bite. Your hands find their way into his hair, softly running through the strands.
âThat feels nice,â he says softly. âCan I just stay like this? Iâm tired.âÂ
âOf course,â you whisper.
âYouâll stay with me?â he asks, sounding like heâs about to drift off.
Youâre sure he wonât remember any of this. Not because heâs drunk, but heâs on the edges of sleep. So, you answer in a whisper. âAlways.âÂ
Maybe heâs not the one that needs to be careful with your heart. Maybe itâs 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 thereâs nobody around to see now. Thatâs not what you do. So, maybe youâre just as much to blame.Â
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 donât 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 youâre doing isnât fair to anyone. Itâs not like Joshua can somehow read your mind to realize youâre 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.Â
Jeonghan: hey dummy i know youâre ignoring joshua so iâm coming over tonight Jeonghan: i told him youâve been busy at work and i havenât heard from you either but we have some talking to do
Leave it to Jeonghan. You had almost forgotten, with how well youâve 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 couldnât 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.
âIâm here,â he announces when he comes in the door.
âThanks for knocking and giving me the chance to pretend Iâm not here,â you call back.
âYour car is outside and you have your location turned on,â Jeonghan says.Â
âRight,â you answer as he comes through the hall holding a bag from your favorite take out place.
âAt least I come bearing gifts,â he says.
âYouâre an angel, do you know that?â you ask and reach for the bag.
Jeonghan snorts. âIâm gonna remind you of that the next time you call me a demon.âÂ
âWell, Lucifer was a fallen angel,â you reason with a shrug.Â
âI hate you,â he says.
âI know,â you answer.Â
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, heâs flipping through a streaming service trying to find something to watch. Itâs not at all what youâre 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 thatâs been going on the past few days. Like itâs 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. Itâs 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.Â
âYeah, well, sometimes feelings catch us off guard,â Jeonghan says when you admit your surprise.
Damn. Did you really walk right into that?
âTrue,â you admit, knowing thatâs the best answer you can give.
âTalk to me,â Jeonghan urges.Â
âAbout what?â you ask to buy more time.
âJoshua,â he says.
âThereâs nothing to talk about,â you state. That makes him fix you with a look.
âClearly there is or you wouldnât be ignoring him,â he says.Â
âWeâre not really dating so I donât owe him constant updates. Iâm not ignoring him. I just have other shit to do,â you say without looking at him.
âWould you like to be?â he asks. That does make you turn to him.
âLike to be what?â you ask, though you think you know.
âReally dating him,â Jeonghan says.
Itâs a crossroads kind of moment. You could say that you donât want that. That would be a lie, though, and Jeonghan doesnât like it when you lie. Can always tell the second you say something thatâs not true. The truth is that youâve spent nearly every moment since that stupid night at Hyejinâs place thinking about what you actually feel for your fake boyfriend.Â
âI donâtâŚknow,â you say slowly and earn a smile because itâs not a lie.
âI was there the other night too, I saw the way it all played out,â he says.
âI mean, does it matter? This is all fake and soon, itâll be over,â you say.
âOf course it matters and itâll be over soon? Please,â Jeonghan scoffs. âI know heâs told you that he wants to keep you in his life after Johnnyâs wedding. So, what? Youâre just gonna be like okay, that was fun, letâs never talk again?â
âI donât know, maybe,â you say quietly.
He rolls his eyes. âTry again, buttercup.âÂ
âIt doesnât matter. He doesnât like me like that, heâs just nice,â you say, avoidant as ever.Â
âHe looks at you like heâd give you the moon if you asked for it,â Jeonghan snorts out.
âHeâs just nice, Han,â you disagree.
âMaybe,â your closest friend concedes, a rare move for him. It feels weird all the same. âWhatever it is, text him back. He misses you and I donât want to hear anymore about how heâs worrying he upset you.â
âHeâs been worrying that he upset me?â you ask. Your heart constricts at that.
âYeah, for some reason he actually likes your company,â he says. âCanât relate.â
You smack Jeonghan on the arm. âSays the man who shows up at my place unannounced when I ignore him for a day.â
âNo, I was just bored,â he argued. âAnd youâre way too stubborn to sort out your shit on your own.â
 âIâm not stubborn, but fine, Iâll text him,â you relent.
âNow,â he says.
âWhat?â
âText him now so that I know you actually did it.â
You roll your eyes at him, but pull your phone out anyway. Angling it away from Jeonghan so that he canât see your screen. Heâs such a nosy brat sometimes.
You: hey, iâm sorry. Itâs 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 Jeonghanâs 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, heâs not anyone else. And heâs as caring to his friends as he is calculating when he wants something. So, heâs not doing it to be cruel, not at all. He just wants you to consider what youâre actually feeling.Â
Youâll 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, heâs not smug and he doesnât tell you that heâs been right about your feelings all along. He just listens, supports you when you need it, and encourages you to keep thinking through everything thatâs going on.
As a make-up for slightly ignoring Joshua (over your own internal freak out), you take him to dinner at your favorite restaurant. Itâs this tiny little hole-in-the-wall that people seem to walk past. The kind of place where you couldnât 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.Â
Joshua doesnât say it, but he also kind of canât 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 werenât taking it back either.Â
You donât 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 youâre home and winding down for the night, you pull the picture back up. Itâs amazing just how happy both of you look. You donât need to read the comments to know that youâve never looked so happy in your life. Every part of you wants to pull back again. Itâs overwhelming. But, Jeonghanâs 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 wonât.Â
It isnât until the weekend that youâre able to see him again because your schedules didnât quite match up. That doesnât 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 itâs all deep and soft.)Â
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 heâs not. That heâs above the chaos. Then, he does something like this and he canât really escape it. But, heâs so sure he knows what you like that heâs positive youâll enjoy the date. You remember how that chat had gone, too. You were ready to go to sleep, but unable to say goodnight.Â
(âI have our next date planned,â Joshua says, voice soft to match the calm of the night.
âWhat is it?â you wonder.
âA surprise,â he answers.
âWhat if I donât like it?â you ask back.
âYou will,â he assures you.
âYou sure seem to think you know me,â you joke.Â
âYeah, I do. Donât worry, youâll like this too,â he says.
There was no point in denying it. That confidence sent a bit of a shiver through you.)Â
It turns out that the date is at a winery where youâre painting with wine. You have to ask him to say it again because youâve 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 youâre definitely not that artistic, youâre excited to see this as well.Â
Admittedly, by the end of the session, your painting isnât 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. Joshuaâs painting, on the other hand, is beautiful. Not for the first time, you think his talents might be wasted at an office job. Youâve seen the bracelets he makes and now youâve seen him paint. Youâve heard him sing and play the guitar. Heâs impossibly artistic in a way that should make you jealous. Instead, it just makes you more endeared to him.Â
You snap a picture of him and his art when heâs not looking and upload it before he can even realize it. Itâs only when a notification goes off on his phone that he realizes. He doesnât even say anything, just gets a sparkle in his eyes that makes you weary immediately. Heâs busy tapping away on his own phone before a notification sounds on yours. Maybe you werenât 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. Itâs the caption that really ruins you, though. Just a simple âthink Iâm addicted to her lightâ. Itâs so simple and also so much sweeter than yours. You fight through the urge to run away.Â
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. Itâs (mostly) easy to keep your mind off the way your heart keeps racing.
When youâre back home, youâre not so lucky.
Back home, alone in your apartment, there arenât 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 wonât admit it, he knows you better than anyone youâve ever dated. Which is terrifying, since this is all fake. And he hasnât even known you that long.Â
So, you do the rational thing and you pull back again. Answer his texts so that he doesnât send Jeonghan over to figure out whatâs wrong, but donât make solid plans. Talk a lot about a work project that you really need to get done ahead of schedule so that youâre not stressing leading up to the wedding. And you throw in some easy suggestions in the meantime so that it still seems like youâre making an effort.Â
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.Â
An event where your parents purchased a table for charity because heâs in high demand with your family around. And he canât be as affectionate.Â
His Open Mic Nights, but with the excuse that you canât stay too late because of your project and he should stick around with his friends. Youâll get home safely.
Small little things that keep you around him and keep up your conversations while still giving you time to breathe. Youâre sure that youâre pulling it all off. And then, the wedding is around the corner. The finish line is in sight.Â
You: Iâm not going to the wedding You: you donât have to come pick me up Joshua: what are you talking about? You: iâm not going Joshua: but itâs literally in a few hours? You: yeah and i donât wanna go, so youâre off the hook You: thanks for everything, but you donât have to pretend anymore
Even if you know youâre being a little petulant, you donât 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, youâre doing the only logical thing you can think of. Ignoring your problems. Avoiding both the wedding and Joshua. What youâre not prepared for, though you should be, is the knock that comes at your door half an hour later.Â
Joshua is on the other side of the door and your heart actually stops. Heâs 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, youâre still in your sweats. You got at least that far before you decided this was a stupid fucking decision.Â
âCan I come in?â he asks when you donât say anything.
âSure,â you say and step aside.Â
âYou look like youâre getting ready,â he comments once heâs inside.
âI was, until I texted you,â you answer. âSpeaking of, why are you here?â
âBecause we had plans,â he says.Â
âYeah 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 didnât look pathetic,â you say with a huff.Â
âYouâre not pathetic. Heâs an asshole,â Joshua says. He doesnât swear often, so it catches you a little off guard.Â
âWell, whatever, you donât have to go. So, Iâm not really sure why youâre here,â you say.Â
âYouâre being so cold. Whatâs going on?â Joshua asks and reaches out to you. Instead, you duck away from his touch.Â
âNothing is going on. It was stupid to care what Johnny thought or to try and save face somehow,â you say.Â
âItâs not stupid. He hurt you and you didnât deserve that,â Joshua urges.
âYou really donât know me that well. Maybe I did deserve it. Maybe I was awful to him and he had no choice,â you say.
âWe both know thatâs not true,â he says.
âDo we?â you challenge.Â
âYes, we do,â he presses. âThere is nothing you could do that justifies cheating instead of just breaking it off. But, I also know you didnât do anything wrong. Jeonghan and I talked about it.â
âYou spoke to Jeonghan about my relationship behind my back?â you question.Â
âWhat is going on? Weâve 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,â Joshua says and you have to look away. You donât need the reminder of how much time youâve spent with him.
âYeah, sorry about all that time we wasted. Iâll pay you back for the tux or anything else you had to buy to pretend to date me,â you say and he looks genuinely confused.
âI donâtâŚwant you to pay me back for anything. It wasnât a waste of time. I did this because I wanted to,â he says.
âYeah, well, you donât have to pretend anymore because Iâm not going to the stupid fucking wedding. It was a really bad idea in the first place,â you say.
Joshua clenches his jaw and looks away. Like maybe heâs frustrated. âWhat is going on? Do you still have feelings for him?âÂ
âFor who? Johnny?â you ask, so insanely caught off guard that you forget youâre mad.
âYes,â Joshua says tightly.
âYouâve got to be fucking kidding me,â you bark out.
âWell? Youâre being really weird and now you donât want to go to a wedding that weâve been planning on,â he starts.
âYeah, which should make you happy, since you donât have to pretend to be my boyfriend anymore,â you say.
âBecause youâre still in love with Johnny,â Joshua finishes like he hadnât even heard you.
âOh my god,â you nearly scream. âIâm not fucking in love with Johnny. This isnât about him.â
âSo, you donât want to go to the wedding and it has nothing to do with him? That doesnât make any sense,â he says.Â
âNo, I donât want to keep doing this,â you say, gesturing between the two of you. âI donât want to keep pretending to date you when I -â
You clamp your mouth shut. Unable to believe that you almost blurted out how you feel.
âWhen you what?â he challenges. âWhat? Is it that bad being around me? Is that it? Are you just sick of me? Ready to toss me aside?â
You laugh bitterly, not even able to appreciate the irony in the situation. âNo, Joshua, I donât want to toss you aside.âÂ
âThen, what? What am I supposed to think when youâve been pushing me away for the last couple weeks? And I have to act like I havenât noticed all the ways youâve kept me at armâs length since we went to the winery. Why did you just decide, literally today, that you donât want to go to the wedding after all?â he asks, rambling. Heâs pacing in front of you. âWhy are you trying so hard to get rid of me?â
âBecause I donât want to get hurt!â you blurt out. âBecause I donât want to go to my fucking scumbag of an exâs 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.â
âThis? What?â he asks, coming to a stop.
âThis, Joshua, you and me. Having this just all be pretend is breaking my heart. I canât 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 wasnât pretend. I donât want to go to the wedding and have you be so sweet and kind and caring when Iâm going to know it has an expiration date. That itâs all just been for show,â you admit. You turn away, clutching your arms around your center because youâre so tired. And so exposed. So vulnerable. Itâs awful.
The tears wonât stop, so you donât 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.
âSo, letâs stop saying itâs pretend,â he whispers.Â
âWhat?â you whisper back.
He turns you in his arms so that youâre facing him and gently brushes away the tears. âLetâs stop saying itâs fake. It doesnât feel fake, does it?â
âNo,â is all you can manage.
âSo, itâs not fake and weâre not pretending,â he says.
âBut,â you start to protest.Â
âI knew I was in trouble, really deep trouble, as soon as we left your parentsâ house. I was just waiting for you to catch up,â he says as he gently runs a thumb across your cheek to wipe away a tear . Your eyes go wide.
âThat was barely a week in,â you say and he just shrugs. âAnd Iâd dumped all my bullshit on you.â
âI think thatâs actually what made me like you so much,â he says. âIt 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.â
âPerfect? I was broken,â you joke and he shakes his head.
âNo, youâve been hurt. Who hasnât? Youâre also strong, kind, funny, a fiercely loyal friend, and one of the most beautiful people Iâve ever met, inside and out,â he says.Â
âThatâs so, youâre so sweet,â you say and try to hide your face. He doesnât let you. âYou like me?â
âIâve liked you the whole time. I did think it was a date, after all,â he says. âAnd do you think Iâm that affectionate with everyone?â
âWe were pretending,â you argue.
âI wasnât,â he argues back.
âOur closest friends thought you were,â you disagree.
âAnd was anyone else there in my apartment when I was still being affectionate?â he asks.
âWell, no, butâŚâ you start.
âI heard you say always,â he tells you.
âYou did?â you ask, sure that itâs been your secret this whole time.
âWe donât have to go to the wedding. But, if itâs just because you donât want this to be over with me, then itâs not going to be over. Iâm yours for as long as you want me,â he says so earnestly it nearly makes you blush.
âCareful, you might get sick of me,â you joke.
He puts a finger under your chin so he can look you in the eyes. âIâll say it again. Iâm yours as long as you want me. I wonât get sick of you.âÂ
âIâŚâ you start and donât know where to go. So you do the only thing you can think of and kiss him. Itâs clear heâs a little caught off guard, but he recovers quickly. His arms wrap around you to hold you tight against him. Itâs the first time youâve really kissed him and youâre so screwed because he really is perfect at this too.Â
âSo, do I get you for the rest of today?â he asks.
You take in his tuxedo again, for real this time. Appreciating how well itâs tailored and how amazing he looks. With a sigh, you say, âyou know, itâs a shame to waste such a nice tux.â
âAre youâŚI thought we werenât going,â he stutters.
âIâm 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,â you say and watch him choke on air.Â
âYou canât just sayâŚâ he starts.
âDamn, sick of me already?â you tease.
âYou know Iâm not,â he answers and moves to follow you.
âNo, no. You donât get to see me changing. Iâll be back out in a second,â you say.Â
Youâre 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 isnât a template. Once you have your shoes on, you walk back into the living room, prepared to say something, only to find Joshua speechless.
âYou lookâŚâ he starts.
âYouâve seen the dress already,â you say and smile.
âNot on you. Not in person. You look amazing,â he says and crosses to pull you into his arms. âAre you sure we have to go?â
âYes,â you say and swat him. âBut, I do know we have a lot to talk about.â
âIâm not in a rush,â he says and allows you to step away.
âWe might need to be in a bit of a rush,â you say, checking the time and gathering all your things.Â
âLetâs go, then,â Joshua says and offers his arm.Â
The wedding passes in kind of a blur. In truth, you barely even register Johnny or what heâs doing beyond the actual ceremony. The reception is so massive that itâs easiest just to focus on the people around you. Especially when youâre at a table with your friends. Thankfully, youâre not at a table with your parents or your sister. It does mean, though, that youâre sitting next to Hyejin, who has definitely realized that something shifted between you and Joshua. So, sheâs 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 doesnât want to draw unnecessary attention to you. All you manage to let her know is that itâs real now and that youâll fill her in after the wedding. (Youâre also thankful that people seem to be cooing over Taehyung and Mimi since theyâre the shiny new topic.)
Itâs also nice to have Joshua there because heâs a built in way to excuse yourself from any conversation that you donât want to be part of. Itâs easy to just say youâre going to go back to the table. Or, in the case of a good song coming on, heâll be quick to drag you to the dance floor and away from whatever conversation youâre stuck in. Heâs a good dancer, too. You donât miss the way Hyejin catches your eye when the first slow song comes on and he pulls you close to him. But, thatâs 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.Â
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 âdoing the right thingâ and coming to the wedding. For the sake of the families. It made you roll your eyes at the time, yet youâre 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.Â
As it turned out, you had a lot to say. Both of you. You hadnât 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 werenât 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 didnât 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 heâs a little scared, too, because youâre definitely more important to him than he was anticipating. Heâs 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 Joshuaâs eyes when they scan yours.Â
The car pulls to a stop and he gets out first. He holds his hand out to help you out of the car. Youâre not really sure what comes over you.
âCome up with me,â you ask, but itâs more of a statement.Â
He hesitates, conflicted. âI donât know if I should.â
âWhy?â you ask, clearly confused.
âI donât know if Iâll be able to leave,â he answers and you smile.
âThen stay,â you shrug, âat least for breakfast.âÂ
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. Heâs unusually quiet and still beside you as you go up the elevator and then behind you as you unlock the door.Â
âIâm gonna go change,â you announce after you drop your keys by the door. You look back at Joshua, appreciating him in the tuxedo one last time. âIâve got some clothes in the spare room that should fit. Theyâre Jeonghanâs âÂ
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 youâre in comfy clothes and bare faced, you head back out into the living room. Itâs odd that you donât even feel self-conscious about Joshua seeing you like this, youâre instantly comfortable.Â
Joshuaâs back is to you in the kitchen. When he turns around, you see that heâs 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.Â
âThanks for the clothes,â he says when you both meet on the couch. âI was worried when you said you had spare clothes they were gonna be from an ex or Johnny or something.âÂ
Your laugh is sudden and clearly catches Joshua off guard. âI wouldnât have kept any of Johnnyâs clothes. I gave them all to charity.âÂ
âIâm sure he was thrilled with that,â Joshua laughs.
âThey made a killing reselling them,â you laugh in response. âWanna watch something?â
âSure, you pick,â 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 youâre considering it, you canât. 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.Â
If you thought he was physically affectionate when he was pretending, itâs nothing compared to now that he knows youâre 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. Itâs pretty clear right away that heâs not paying much attention to the show.Â
If youâre being honest, youâre 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.Â
You canât 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. Youâre holding your breath, just waiting to see what heâs going to do. When you feel like youâre going to go a little bit insane, his hand moves to the back of your neck and pulls you in. Itâs exactly like the first kiss before the wedding. At least, at first. Itâs gentle, but full of so much desire. Itâs also slow, like thereâs no rush to any of it.
The position is really uncomfortable, though. You shift your legs so theyâre draped over one of Joshuaâs. He doesnât miss a beat. It just allows him to pull you closer. Thereâs something incredibly intimate in kissing him like this. Thereâs this weird contrast of desire and comfort. Itâs heated, but also a little lazy. Like you have all the time in the world. Which you do, you think, now that youâre being honest about your feelings. When Joshua pulls back from the kiss, you chase his lips for a second before realizing that heâs pulled away. The way he looks at you nearly melts you into the couch.
âI donât want to assume where this is headed, but maybe we should take it to the bedroom?â he asks. Itâs cute, the way heâs a little shy. Like you didnât invite him in to spend the night. Yeah, youâre in way over your head. At least it seems like he might be too.Â
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 heâs seen your bedroom before, this feels different. Youâre 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.Â
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. Thereâs 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 heâs trying to put everything he feels into it. Something about it just makes you feel so insanely safe.Â
Heâs the one to break the kiss again, but this time itâs to move back onto the bed and grab your hand to pull you along with him. Itâs 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 youâre 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 youâre a bit drunk off each other.
When Joshuaâs 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 heâs 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 youâre 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 heâs 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. âBaby, please donât tease me.âÂ
âNo silly pet name?â you tease him.Â
âNot when youâre getting me this turned on like a horny teenager,â he whines.Â
âYou mean like this?â you ask, injecting as much innocence as you can when you slowly drag your clothed pussy across his dick again.Â
Joshua throws his head back, eyes squeezed shut, and grips you tighter. âYes.âÂ
âSo you donât like it?â you ask, grinding a little more.Â
âFuck,â he hisses out. And somehow thatâs the thing that almost breaks you. Why is that one swear so hot on his lips?Â
Without saying anything, you sit up a little bit, still making sure youâre straddling Joshua, so that you can pull his shirt off him. Your eyes go wide because youâve never seen him shirtless. Youâve 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 donât see the way it makes him a little shy.Â
His hands reach for your own shirt, playing with the hem like heâs 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 itâs making you and try your best not to squirm when he moves from one breast to the other.Â
âI need you,â you utter.Â
âI need you, too,â he says against your skin. His hips buck up into you almost involuntarily.Â
You slide off of him and pull your shorts down and he gasps that you donât have any underwear on. It isnât like you were expecting anything, you just wanted to be prepared. While heâs 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.Â
But, youâre 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. Itâs this thought that pushes you back to the bed to lay with him.Â
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. Itâs such a little amount of contact and it makes you moan anyway.Â
âDamn, are you this wet just for me?â he asks and presses a kiss into the first bit of your skin he can reach.
âI want to feel you,â you admit. Joshua makes you press a finger into your pussy, but you stop him. Confusion takes over his features.
âI thoughtâŚdo you not want this?â he asks.Â
âI do, but I wantâŚI want all of you,â you admit. âI want to feel you deep inside of me. I want to be completely ruined by you. I want to come together.âÂ
âShit,â he hisses, hand stilling against your body. âOn one condition.â
âWhatâs that?â you ask.
âI want to taste you soon,â he says, pressing a kiss into your shoulder.
The thought of him between your legs makes you shiver. Itâs almost enough to forget that you want this first time to be together. âDeal.âÂ
âDo you have condoms? I wasnât exactly expectingâŚâ he says, trailing off.
âThat drawer,â you say and point.Â
He rolls himself off of the bed to open the drawer. Youâre not sure why you expect his hands to be a little unsteady when he rips open the wrapper and rolls it onto himself, but heâs so calm. Maybe itâs just you thatâs a little nervous. At least, thatâs 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?Â
âJust lay back,â he urges you, voice calming any lingering nerves. His voice drops to a whisper, like the next statement is just for him. âYouâre so beautiful, every single inch of you.âÂ
It makes your heart constrict in a way that youâre not really prepared for. It would be nice if your feelings could stop flooding in all at once like a dam breaking. Itâs 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 canât seem to help himself from running a finger along your entrance.Â
Even though he would fully be within his rights to tease you, he doesnât. 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 canât bring yourself to form the words. So, he accepts the nods and slowly presses into you.
âFuck,â you hiss as you adjust to him.Â
âAre you okay?â he worries.
âFeels good,â you say with a slight whine. âItâs just been a bit.âÂ
He presses the rest of the way into you and then stills so you can get used to him. Itâs really overwhelming. Not just because youâre finally feeling him inside of you. More so because heâs looking at you with more adoration than youâve ever felt in your life. Like this is it for him. Like youâre it for him. Itâs too early to be thinking of love, but you really donât know if anyone has ever loved you so completely. You think heâs probably it for you too.Â
Once he finally starts to move, you know itâs 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. Itâs just the right speed. While you love the hard and fast fucking, thereâs something so much more intimate about this kind of in between speed.Â
âGod you feel so good,â he whines as he snaps into you again. âSo tight and perfect.âÂ
âYouâre so - oh my god,â you moan out, unable to finish the sentence as he hits you just right.Â
Joshua moves one of your legs so that itâs over his shoulder and presses further into you, hitting deeper than you were prepared for.
âFuck, Joshua, holy shit,â you scream out.Â
âLove the sound of my name on your lips,â he manages as his thrusts pick up pace.Â
You want to respond that you love saying it, want to say anything, but the thrusts are entirely too much. As if it wasnât 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.
âLook at me, baby. I wanna see you when you come,â he urges, his own voice sounding ragged.Â
Despite wanting to focus on the pressure building between you, you do as he asks. Your eyes meet his and itâs that look that makes that coil snap. Youâre 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 youâve had.Â
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. Itâs so impossibly tender.
âItâs okay, sweetheart, you can move,â you assure him.
âThank fuck,â he mumbles.Â
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.Â
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 hadnât thought anything about him would translate to this kind of hard and fast sex, but itâs 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 Joshuaâs thrusts get erratic. You do your best to take over the rhythm before slowing down.Â
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 youâve 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.Â
âHey,â you say when he looks up at you.
âYouâre perfect,â he responds and you canât keep the smile off your face.Â
âYou were pretty perfect yourself,â you say.Â
âAm I too heavy, I couldâŚâ he starts and you pull him tighter against you.
âDonât you dare,â you warn.Â
He doesnât say anything, just nuzzles his face into your neck. But, you know that you canât stay like this forever. So you donât protest when he gently pulls himself up and gets out of the bed. Youâre right behind him, leading him into the bathroom so that you can get both of you cleaned up.Â
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 youâve never been much for falling asleep cuddling, you canât 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 youâd be annoyed if you werenât so helplessly attached to him.Â
And itâs the best sleep youâve 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 heâs still asleep based on his breathing and so youâre just considering slipping out of the bed. He moves in his sleep and pulls you tighter against him, making you feel that heâs semi-hard again. You press back against him, almost testing if heâs really asleep.Â
Heâs not.Â
Joshuaâs 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. Heâs got your nipple between his fingers before you press back into him again, wiggling your ass against his dick without pretending youâre doing otherwise.
âGood morning beautiful,â Joshua says in a raspy voice into your ear.Â
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.Â
âFeels like someone might have woken up ready,â 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.Â
âI wonder why,â you retort, undermined by the way you squirm under his touch.Â
âDo you want me to stop?â he asks and stops his movements.Â
Your hand immediately moves to his. To guide him back to your cunt. âPlease donât. Want to see what those hands can do.âÂ
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. Youâre about to ask him to stop teasing you when he presses a finger inside you suddenly.
âFuck,â you nearly scream.Â
âIs someone a little sensitive?â he teases. Heâs a fucking demon and you would gladly sell your soul so he didnât stop.Â
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 youâre turning over to adjust your position, you see him insert his fingers into his mouth. Holy shit. He really is the hottest man youâve ever met.Â
Instead of letting you carry on in any way, he pushes himself up and repositions. Youâre not really sure what heâs 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.Â
âTold you that I wanted to taste you,â he reminds you once your shorts are off.Â
âAre you sureâŚâ you start to ask before he cuts you off.
His head snaps up so he can meet your eyes. âIâve been waiting to taste you for weeks.â
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. Itâs 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 heâs not going anywhere. (And okay, maybe itâs more to ground yourself to him than anything else.)Â
It shouldnât 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.Â
By the time he pulls himself up your body, heâs got you nearly panting from the build up. The kiss he presses to your lips is sloppy and a little desperate. Like youâre both totally fucked out. His fingers inside you keep a relentless pace as he hooks them, hitting that perfect spot.Â
âFuck, fuck, fuck,â you yell out, breaking the kiss. Your whole body feels like itâs on fire in an entirely different way from the night before.Â
Thereâs nothing in the world but Joshua and the way he coaxes everything out of you. The way he has you squirting on his fingers. Youâre not even sure if the praise coming out of your mouth makes any sense and youâre definitely not sure what he says in return. Itâs all you can do just to appreciate the moment.Â
You think that youâre going to get the chance to get your mouth around his cock now that heâs given you another mind blowing orgasm. But, by the time you get your breathing under control, you see that heâs rolling a condom from your drawer onto himself. He pulls you to the edge of the bed so that your legs are hanging off. Itâs instantly stronger than youâre expecting from him and pulls a gasp from you.Â
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 doesnât. He snaps his full length inside of you in one motion and youâre so overstimulated, but it feels so good.
âFuck me, Joshua, oh my fucking god,â you say and clench down around his dick.Â
âShit, that feels so good,â he hisses.Â
âYou feel so good,â you moan.Â
âYou have no idea,â he answers and starts thrusting.Â
Itâs 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. Itâs 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 Joshuaâs face. Memorize the way he looks when heâs concentrating. Appreciate how totally gone he is because youâre sure itâs the same look you have. Delight in the way his eyes get even wider when you clench your pussy around him.Â
It feels a little like heâs using your body to chase his own high, except thereâs 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 havenât been able to get your mouth on his cock yet.Â
âHarder Joshua, please. I know youâre close,â you beg and he obliges immediately.Â
Even though youâre trying to meet the rhythm, you canât. Itâs 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. Youâre right there with him.Â
(Later, he tells you that heâs never seen anyone hotter than you when you come. It would make you embarrassed in any other situation. But, you realize that youâve never been with anyone thatâs come close to him, so maybe itâs okay to accept his praise. Maybe you deserve it. Maybe this is the person that youâve been waiting for.)
Now, you really do have to get up and clean up. As tempting as Joshuaâs offer to shower together is, you donât want it to turn into shower sex because thatâs 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. Itâs 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.Â
With Joshua cleaning up some around the house, youâre the first out of the shower and dressed. Pleasantly sore in the kind of way you really enjoy. Youâre 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, thereâs a knock at the door. Itâs impossible to guess who it could be. Even Jeonghan wouldnât bother you like this. Although heâs been texting asking for an update after you told him you finally got your shit together, he wouldnât show up like this.Â
When you open the door, youâd give anything for it to just be Jeonghan. Instead, you see a face that youâve been seeing entirely too much lately.
âWhat are you doing here, Johnny?â you ask with a heavy sigh.Â
âI need to talk to you,â he says.
âWhy?â you ask.
âCome on, donât be like that,â he pleads.
âJohnny, itâs the day after your wedding. What the fuck are you doing on my doorstep?â you ask, arms crossed.Â
âAre you really going to make me do this in the hallway?â he asks.Â
âI donât see any reason to invite you inside,â you retort.Â
âItâs about your, uh, boyfriend,â Johnny says a little awkwardly.
âJoshua?â you ask because that actually piques your interest a bit.
âCan I come in?â he asks.
âNo. What about Joshua?â you ask.
âThis is really awkward. It would be better if we were sitting downâŚâ Johnny starts.
âMy little honeybun, is everything okay?â Joshua asks from inside the apartment. He must be out of the shower.Â
âBabe, we talked about the pet names,â you remind him as he joins you at the door.
âOh, uh, I wasnât expecting him to be here,â Johnny says.
âIâm her boyfriend, so I know why Iâm here. What are you doing here?â 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?"
âI needed to talk to her,â Johnny says stiffly.
âAbout you, apparently,â you say with your eyes on Joshua.Â
âRight, so can you give us a minute?â Johnny asks with his eyes on Joshua.
âNo, he canât. If you have something to say, just say it. Then you can leave us alone,â you say.
âFine, if you really want it to be like this, fine,â Johnny says. âI knew he looked familiar when I saw him at your parentsâ 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.âÂ
âOkay? And? Iâm sorry, but Iâm not sure why I care,â you say even though you know where heâs going.
âHe was always with older women,â Johnny presses.Â
âCan you just make your point so we can get back to our day?â Joshua asks.
âFine,â Johnny says, irritated. âThe whispers were that women paid him to come to the events with them. That he was selling himself to them.âÂ
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 itâs his way of trying to keep you on the hook. Then you realize that you donât really care what he does. For the first time in forever, youâre genuinely happy.Â
âIâm glad you think this is funny,â Johnny says.Â
âNot that itâs 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? Thereâs nothing wrong with profiting off of someone wanting his company platonically,â you say.Â
âYouâre assuming he wasnât also sleeping with them,â Johnny says, a little stubborn.
âNo, Iâm not assuming. I know he wasnât because weâve 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,â you say. âIt was also years before we met. Weâve all got history.â
âNice dig,â he says.Â
âItâs not a dig, Johnny. Not everything is a slight,â you say with a sigh. âWhere does Gabby think you are?â
âWhat?â Johnny asks.Â
âYour wife,â you clarify. âWhere does she think you are?â
âOh, well, thatâs not important. I just said I had some errands to take care of,â Johnny says and you roll your eyes.
âWeâre done, Johnny,â you say.
âWait,â he says as youâre moving to shut the door. âI know I fucked up, butâŚâ
âThereâs no buts. Not anymore,â you say. âMaybe there was a point where Iâd want to hear the buts and the apologies and all that. Iâm happy now, though, and you canât even tell your wife that you came to see your ex-fiancee the day after your wedding.âÂ
âItâs not likeâŚâ he starts and you start to close the door at the same time.
âItâs exactly like that. Goodbye, Johnny,â you say.Â
The second you close the door, you feel a giant weight lifted off you. You just feel tired. Itâs obvious that there arenât any feelings there anymore, so him pretending he cares as a pretense to see you just feels irritating.
âAre you okay?â Joshua asks, eyes raking over you.
âYeah, Iâm good,â you say.
âYou sure?â he asks.
âYeah, really. I think I knew when I saw him at my parentsâ house that time you came over for dinner that I was completely over it,â you say. âIâm sorry he tried to bring something like that up or make it a big deal.âÂ
âI donât care. Itâs like you said, I did it and Iâm not ashamed of that,â he says. âBut, uh, I really wanted to thank you.â
âFor what?â you ask.
âFor defending me and for saying you trust me,â he says. It makes you a little shy for a second, so you look down.
âOh, well, itâs not a big deal,â you say.Â
Joshua closes the space and tilts your chin up to look at him. âItâs a huge deal to me. I know we started pretending, but trusting me means the absolute world.âÂ
âYou make it easy,â you admit.Â
That seems to render him a little speechless as well because all he does is pull you into him in the tightest hug heâs ever given you. Your body fits into his like a puzzle piece. Which sounds sappy, even if in your head, and you donât actually care. Itâs the safest and the happiest youâve ever felt.
âWhat?â he asks when you pull away.
âNothing, I just think this is going to work,â you say.Â
Joshua smiles at you, that genuine smile he saves for when heâs at his happiest. âYeah, I think so too.âÂ
i hope you enjoyed this fic! let me know your thoughts đ
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!)
#joshua smut#joshua fluff#joshua angst#joshua x reader#joshua x you#joshua x y/n#joshua fic#joshua fanfic#seventeen smut#seventeen fluff#seventeen angst#seventeen x reader#seventeen x you#svt x reader#svt x you#svt smut#svt fluff#svt angst#svthub#kvanity#joshua imagines#joshua scenarios#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#svt imagines#svt scenarios#ksmutsociety
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i just finished the date episode of the rd and omggg kurosawa's little song đĽšđĽš i've always liked the live action more than the manga but the rd does such a great job of bringing the manga versions of them to life, i love it :)
kurosawa the dork ever !!!! and the fact adachi thought it was cute u are down so fucking bad my guy
and same id say the la is my favorite version of the story overall but there def are some parts where i prefer the rd djdjdhjs wont say where yet for spoilers but . man. ep 12 đď¸đđď¸
#in terms of enjoyment id put every adaptation like. la > rd > manga#manga only being the lowest bc it had kind of a shaky start to me (understandable bc it was meant to be a silly twt series lol#also the side characters arent rlly interesting or endearing there personally)#but it gets rlly good in later volumes and at times i prefer it over the la too just bc so much of it didnt get adapted#rd is way better in both aspects (obsessed w how they set up the magic+side charas are way better)#and since it leans on the manga more while sometimes borrowing la stuff i think the angst levels in rd are just right#but la supreme forever and ever just for kurosawas 7 yr pining and aroace fujisaki like it cannot be better than that for me. perfect story#i will continue yearning for more adaptations tho im not resting until theres at least also a light novel and stage play /hj#my answer
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best kept secret
pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader
words: 6.7k
summary: In an attempt to keep your relationship secret, Joel agrees to a blind date set up by his best friend / your father. You don't take it well.
warnings: 18+ minors dni, pre-outbreak, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel is 36), secret relationship, angst, explicit smut, oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv, semi-public sex, car sex, creampie, some fluff; lmk if I missed anything!
a/n: so sorry it took me almost a month to post something new ffs - life got busy and my inspiration simultaneously disappeared. but we're back, baby! anyway, dbf!joel owns my ass, so here's my rendition of him. as always, ty to my baby @javisashtray for reading this over for me and helping me through the creative process <3
Joelâs bedroom window offers a perfect view of the sunrise; of shy, pink light creeping over treetops and the roof of your dadâs house across the street.
Itâs gorgeous â breathtaking, even â maybe because you can count on one hand the number of times youâve actually seen the crest of morning. Youâre far more privy to late nights and sleeping in as long as you can push it, never been one to be up with the lark, so to speak.
You donât mind the early wakeup call, though, not when itâs this: Joelâs head tucked between your thighs, his tongue rolling lazily over your clit, your eyes still adjusting to the light as he spreads you open for him.
Heâs humming against you, his coarse beard tickling soft skin, thumbs dug into muscle to hold you in place as your back bows reflexively off the mattress. He looks so sweet like this, so eager to please, staring up at you with blown pupils.
âCâmon baby,â he purrs. âJust gimme one before you go.â
Theyâre the first words heâs said all morning, the first thought thatâs necessitated utterance. His voice is hoarse and deep and drips honey-sweet at your core.Â
Even so, despite how badly you want to â because you always want Joelâs mouth on you â youâre not sure you can.Â
Because you need to get home before Denise next door leaves for her early shift. Before Susan a few houses down takes her dog out for a walk.
Before the neighborhood wakes and somebody sees you leaving Joel Millerâs house. Or worse, before your dad catches you slipping into the house in yesterdayâs clothes, your car in the driveway still cold.
But with another experimental flick of Joelâs tongue, you forget all that, a content little sigh slipping past your parted lips, betraying you.
Just one, you tell yourself, and then youâll head out.
âFuck, okay â yeah,â you breathe, twisting your fingers into the roots of his curls.
With your permission, he buries his nose in your mound. Licks at you again â with more purpose, this time. One long, drawn out lap followed by another. Â
Heâs so gentle with you, so careful, caressing your folds with his tongue like theyâre made of paper. Itâs a dizzying juxtaposition to the way he laid you down last night and fucked you, teeth scraping your neck and cock bruising your cervix.
Youâre still sore, your walls tender where he stretched them, but your pussy is drooling nonetheless, surely making a mess of the bedsheets underneath you.
Because youâre insatiable when it comes to Joel.Â
For the past few weeks, since the first time youâd found yourself in his bed, youâve craved him. Regardless of how sated heâs left you each and every time, youâve needed more.Â
Itâs dangerous and stupid and undeniably wrong, having a fling with your dadâs best-friend. But youâre finding it difficult to consider the morality of it all when just his tongue makes you come harder than any other manâs cock ever has.Â
That tongue, now dipping into your apex, drawing more slick out of you as his thumb finds your swollen clit â Itâs overwhelming how good it feels, how good he is at this.
Heâs bringing you to the edge languidly, savoring the taste of you, the feel of your silky flesh. Itâs like he doesnât want this to be over, needs to stretch the moment as far as itâll go, milk every last second before you slip from his grasp.
But itâs going to end soon; itâs inevitable with the way heâs laving your pussy, the crushed velvet of his tongue gliding through your folds so wet and warm. Your orgasm is building, and youâre powerless to stave it off any longer.
âJoel,â you warn, his name a high-pitched whine.Â
âShh, I know babygirl; itâs okay.âÂ
Two of his fingers hook at your entrance and push in, pacifying you as his thumb continues working your clit. âI got you. Let go for me, sweetheart.â
The soothe of his voice floods your senses like nitrous; renders your body loose and your head foggy. You come apart with a string of shattered breaths, eyes rolled back and fingers twisted into the duvet.
Joel talks you through it: thatâs it, pretty girl; so good for me; always so good for me, and though he sounds so far away, his words are the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.
The world comes back into view slowly. Air settles in your lungs. And you canât help but laugh at how fucked-out you feel when you peer down at Joel, his gaze already locked on you, expectantly.
âOkay?â he asks, rubbing at your inner thigh.
âYeah,â you exhale, corners of your lips pulling taut. âMore than okay.â
He smiles back at you. Props himself up with hands planted either side of you on the mattress and hovers over your feeble form.
âGood,â he whispers, dipping his head down to kiss your forehead, your nose, your mouth. He licks into you, letting you taste yourself on him â a little sweet, a little bitter â and his lips are so soft that you nearly melt. âDid so good, angel.âÂ
You want nothing more than to spend all day in this bed with him. Return the favor a few times over. Learn what he looks like in the afternoon sun against the backdrop of navy blue sheets. What he tastes like after his coffee rather than before.
âI donât want to leave,â you admit against his mouth and he frowns, taking one of your hands in his. He presses a kiss to each of your knuckles, one by one, his eyes never straying from yours.
âI donât want you to either, darlinâ. But you can come back tonight, yeah?â
Tonight. Hours away. A whole day between now and then. But itâll have to do.Â
âTonight,â you repeat. Solidify it.Â
You slink home just as the street lights dim.
The house is quiet when you enter, apart from the incessant ticking of the grandmother clock in the living room. It sets off a throbbing in your head, a dull pang right at the front of your skull that you massage with two fingers as you ascend the stairs.
You move cautiously up each step, wincing at every creak of old wood. It must take minutes to reach the second-floor landing, and then youâre tiptoeing past your fatherâs room, listening for signs of sleep behind the seal of his door. Sure enough, you catch it, a single, drawn-out snore, loud enough that you let your feet fall, shuffling the rest of the way to the bathroom across the hall.
You immediately crank the shower on, climbing in as soon as you see steam. Lathering your skin with citrus-scented body wash, the smell of sex washes off your body and down the drain.
The warm water soothes your sore muscles; bittersweet relief. You stand there until the stream grows icy, stepping out and toweling yourself off just as you hear the familiar blare of your dadâs alarm on the other side of the wall.
By the time youâve dressed and made your way downstairs, heâs already in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee with his back to you.Â
Sink empty, counters borderline sparkling, a coaster tucked under his warm mug â your father is a neat man. He does not take kindly to mess.
God forbid, anybody disrupt the sacred balance of his home; move something and forget to put it back, break something of his that should be kept intact.
âHey.â
âHey, kiddo,â he yawns. Turns to face you. âYou were up early. Heard the shower going.â
âCouldnât sleep,â you lie.
âSomething on your mind?â
Heat blooms across your chest and up your neck. Thereâs no way he knows â youâve been far too careful. Still, youâre on edge, and the question lodges itself between your ribs uncomfortably as you frantically search for an answer.
âUh, n-no,â you stutter. âJust work stuff, I guess.â
He seems to buy it, reaching for the percolator and re-filling his mug with a sigh, âJust gotta give it time. You only just started. Plus, itâs your first job out of school. They donât expect you to know it all right away.â
Itâs good advice, if not misguided. You nod as if youâre absorbing it, taking it straight to heart. As if your mind isnât preoccupied.
You grab a mug from the cabinet. Fill it with coffee and creamer. Perch yourself at the breakfast table and take a slow, steadying sip.
The caffeine has just about seeped into your bloodstream when-
-thereâs a knock at the door.
Your dad shoots you a puzzled look, one which you immediately return. Who could that be, so early on a Wednesday morning?
And when he pushes open the door to reveal none other than Joel, you just about fall out of your chair. Your nails absentmindedly dig into the wood of the table in an attempt to brace yourself.
âOh, buddy â hey! Come on in,â your dad says, patting him on the back as he steps over the threshold. âWasnât expecting you.â
You grasp the handle of your mug like a lifeline. For a fleeting moment, you worry the ceramic will shatter in your hands.
Joel is dressed â blue cotton t-shirt covering his broad back and the deep, red scratches you left there when you dug your nails into skin, your legs hiked over his hips and your face tucked into his chest.
The pair of boxers peeking over the waistband of his jeans are different from the ones you pulled off of him last night, the ones he shimmied back into before you slept cradled in his arms.
Heâs a different Joel here, now â your fatherâs friend, your neighbor â not the man who breaks you down with his tongue or the one who calls you his good girl while you take his entire, throbbing length.Â
No, this Joel, standing in your kitchen in the presence of your father, has never betrayed him. Hasnât tasted his friendâs daughter or felt the tight embrace of her wet, warm cunt around his cock. This Joel is reliable, honest, not one to do harm.
You do not desire this Joel, cannot. You must look at him with apathetic eyes. Must keep the boat of your longing at bay.Â
Easier said than done. Itâs as if your desire for him is a feral beast, fed by his touch and left starving in its wake. You feel like youâve just run a marathon, sweat beading at your collar as you not-so-subtly follow the subconscious flex of his hands, the bunching of fabric over his biceps.
His voice bounces off the backsplash, and your fingers tighten around the handle of your mug.
âYeah, I uh â I went to make myself coffee and realized I was out. Was hopinâ you might have some to spare?â
He canât be serious. He came over for coffee? He couldnât get some on the road?
âIâm afraid she took the last of it,â your dadâs eyes point to you, and you ignore the burn of Joelâs gaze when his follow.
âAhh,â he says. ââts okay. Iâll grab some on my way in.âÂ
His fingers taptaptap on the edge of the countertop, bottom lip tucked between his teeth like thereâs something else. Another reason he came here.
And then you spot it â your wallet, dark red leather, poking out the top of Joelâs back pocket.Â
You mustâve left it in his room before you hurried home. Somewhere amongst the mess of trinkets and trash on his dresser. You half-remember dropping it there last night as heâd kneeled in front of you and peppered kisses up the length of your leg.
Thankfully, your dad is oblivious as ever, giving Joel the perfect opportunity to inconspicuously slip you your wallet when he turns around and crosses the kitchen, placing his empty mug in the sink.Â
Joel sidesteps once, twice, extending his arm and snapping it back as soon as you have the wallet in your grasp.
Your father clears his throat. Spins to find Joel exactly where he was. âIâve been thinking,â he starts, wrestling a slice of bread out of the bag and dropping it into the toaster, âI gotta set you up with this co-worker of mine, Deb.â
Joel freezes. You watch as the color drains from his face and his large hand anxiously cards through dark curls. Youâre pretty sure you freeze too, breath caught somewhere in your throat until your dad turns to you and you remember to exhale.Â
âYou know Deb, right, honey?â he asks. You mentally flick through the rolodex of your dadâs coworkers.Â
Thereâs Leanne, tall redhead, hosted a potluck a few months back at which you tasted the worst mac & cheese youâve ever had. And Barbara from accounting, who he got into a heated argument with over who makes the best BBQ in the city. You only remember her name because he hadnât shut up about how wrong her opinion was for a full week.Â
This woman actually thinks the Smoke Shop has got better ribs than Louâs. I said to her, Barbara, your taste buds must be absolutely torched.
But Deb? You donât recall a Deb. Still, youâre pretty sure you hate her, just in hearing her name in this context.Â
You shake your head, no.Â
âWell, I guess you havenât seen her in a while. She was there that day I brought you into the office.â
âWhen I was ten?â you retort.Â
âYeah, I guess it was that long ago, huh?â
You shrug. He returns his attention to Joel. âAnyway, Deb â sheâs around your age, just got divorced about a year back, and sheâs a real nice woman. I think you two would really hit it off.â
âIs that so?â Joel replies. You swear his voice wavers. If your dad notices, he doesnât say anything.
âYouâll like her Joel, I promise. I mean, whenâs the last time you went out with a nice lady? Not since â what was her name â Jean? And if things were going well with her, Iâd hope youâd tell your old friend.â The toaster pops, and he retrieves his slice of toast. Grabs a butter knife from the utensil drawer. Â
âNo, I ainât seeing Jean,â Joel sighs. Flashes you an apologetic glance as your dad slathers his toast in artificial purple jam, blissfully unaware.
âWell, you gotta get back out there!âÂ
Joelâs gaze rolls to the ceiling. âI donât know â Iâm just not real interested in datinâ right now.â
You exhale, then â a quiet declaration of relief that seems to go unnoticed â unperturbed even when your dad continues his pitch.Â
Iâve known this woman for years Joel, Iâm telling you, the two of youâd be the perfect match; sheâs a looker too, real pretty.
Ew. Tuning him out, you check the clock, find that you only have a few minutes before you need to get going. You stand from the table and make your way toward the sink with your now-empty coffee mug in hand.
Would I ever lead you astray? your dad is asking just as you brush past Joel. His hand, idle by his side, catches the fabric of your blouse and you have to fight to ignore the pinprick of electricity it ignites under your skin.
âNo, I know,â Joel grumbles. âI trust your judgment ân all, âts just-â
âWill you just give her a chance?â
âJesus; fine.â
The mug slips from your grip, falls into the sink with a clang.
Your dad glares at you, expression softening only when you gesture to the still-intact ceramic lying on its side in the basin.
Heâs quickly distracted, then, jotting a series of numbers down onto a scrap of notebook paper, the blue ink pressed in so hard that itâs beginning to bleed through.Â
âAtta boy,â he drawls, sliding it across the counter. Joel pinches it between two fingers, folds the paper without looking at it and stuffs it into his front pocket.Â
âPromise youâll give her a call tonight? I may or may not have already talked you up, and I need to know youâre not gonna make me look bad here.â
Joel has to see you staring at him out of the corner of his eye. He must. If looks could kill, heâd be six feet under already. But heâs refusing to meet your gaze, eyes glued to the cabinet directly in front of him as he nods. âYeah, Iâll call her tonight,â he says, a small, unconvincing smile pulling at the corner of his lips.Â
Heâs actually agreeing to this?
You need to get out of here before you say something rash.
The anger bubbles in you slowly, then all at once, threatening to boil over as you slip on your shoes and sling your bag over your shoulder.Â
Marching toward the door, you offer a half-hearted bye, not bothering to look back before you leave.
The office is already milling with people by the time you stroll in, ten minutes late.Â
The conversation between Joel and your dad is still running laps in your head as you sneak past your bossâs door.
It sticks there through the morning and well into the afternoon, your dadâs words an incessant earworm: I think you two would really hit it off.
The thing is â you canât blame Joel for saying yes to the setup. Not really. Your situation is complicated, messy, bound to end badly.
Maybe heâd be happier with Deb.Â
They could take walks together, stroll through the grocery store or down the street hand-in-hand. Throw dinner parties and shamelessly gush about their relationship to their friends. All without fear of being caught doing something wrong.
Because thatâs what this is, you and Joel â itâs wrong. Not like you werenât already well aware of that. Leave it to some woman youâve never met to rub it in.
The day passes infuriatingly slow.
The pile of emails in your inbox only grows larger by the time youâre due to clock out, stack of reports on your desk barely touched. You wince when your boss stops by your cubicle on her way out, eager for an update.
âSorry, Linda; a couple of these were more time-consuming than Iâd hoped,â you lie. But you can tell she doesnât buy it, not one bit, her expression souring as you shuffle through papers.
âI need these done by the end of the week, no matter what.â
âOf course,â you mutter, face heating with embarrassment. âIâll get them done and on your desk by Friday.â
âThanks.â Her heels are already clacking on tile when you open your mouth to apologize again, your sorry lost to the ether.
You gather your things and scramble to your feet as soon as sheâs out of view, not sticking around to watch your computer power down. By the time you get to your car, Joelâs number is already dialed on your phone.
He picks up after two rings.
âDarlinâ â are you okay?â
Itâs admittedly uncharacteristic for you to call him so early. You usually wait until after dark, when youâve both retreated to your respective bedrooms, away from listening ears.
But this canât wait. Itâs been eating at you all day, digging into your work. If you donât talk to him about it, youâre going to end up unemployed. You donât bother to ask if heâs still on the job site, around other people. âYouâre going on this date.â Itâs not a question. More of an accusation.
âBaby,â he sighs. You try your best to ignore his molasses drawl and the way it seeps into your chest.Â
âWhy didnât you say no?âÂ
âHow could I?â he groans. âThereâs your dad, askinâ me if Iâm seeinâ someone, sayinâ heâs already told this lady about me â what am I supposed to say?â
âI donât know.â Your voice comes out a whine. âMake something up. Tell him youâve taken a vow of celibacy.â
He laughs, low and breathy on the other end. âYeah, baby. Think heâd believe that one, fâsure.â
âFuck,â you huff. âI justâ I donât-â
You want to tell him not to go. To cancel. Fake his own death. Do whatever it takes to get out of this. But you have no right, not really. The two of you arenât dating. You donât have any control over what he does or who he sees. And you donât want that, no. You just want him to choose you.
âI donât wanna go, darlinâ. I really donât. But if I do this, I think itâll get him off my back for a while. He wonât have a reason to suspect that Iâm foolinâ around with his daughter.â
Fooling around. His phrasing is a metaphorical punch in the gut.
Itâs not exactly a lie. You havenât put a label on this thing, whatever it is. Itâs been purely physical: lips slotted to lips, tongues pressed together, swapped sweat and saliva. But hearing it reduced to two words, words with such a casual connotation â as if you havenât been driven by overwhelming desire â makes your stomach churn.
Joel doesnât seem to clock it when you go quiet, a cocktail of rage and sorrow sloshing around your insides. âItâs for the best,â he adds, a shot of hard, burning liquor.Â
âYeah,â you say defeatedly. Choke back the pathetic tears that creep up your throat. âFor the best.â
He ends the call with the excuse of bad cell reception. Promises to talk to you later. Youâre not sure that you believe him.
The phrase fooling around curls up in your head, a wet dog, its fur dripping into the crevices of your rattled brain the entire drive home.
You dodge Joelâs calls for the remainder of the week.
Thereâs no use in talking to him when you have nothing to say, when you know any words you attempt will be overtaken by tears.
Even so, it doesnât stop him from trying. His number lights up the screen of your phone at least twice a day.
He leaves voicemails that you do not listen to. You canât. The last thing you need is his syruppy drawl in your ear. Youâll break; you know you will.
So instead, you delete them. Rid yourself of temptation.
But you still ache for him â a devastating truth. You lumber through the days, bones heavy with hurt. Find yourself kept up at night by thoughts of Joel and the infuriatingly soothing timbre of his voice, the intoxicating callous of his fingertips against your soft skin.Â
Itâs a lonely thing, yearning for Joel Miller.
On Friday, your father beams at the dinner table. Heâs grinning like a child as he stuffs a forkful of rice into his mouth.
âJoel and Debâs date is tomorrow,â he says. âThink theyâll really hit it off, donât you?â
Youâre dumbfounded for a long moment â canât believe that this is your life now: being asked about your thoughts on Joel and the ever-elusive Deb as a couple. When it takes too long for you to answer, your fatherâs fork stills pointedly on his plate, and you sputter.
âOh! I mean, I donât know. Like I said, I donât remember Deb.â You canât help your condescending tone. Your dad doesnât seem to catch it anyway.Â
âWell,â he says, âI think theyâll be a match. Hoping so, anyway. The man has been such a hermit lately â maybe if he has a lady, heâll get out more!â
âYou sound real excited,â you grumble. Stab four peas on the prongs of your fork.
âIt is exciting. Iâve never set anyone up before. And the best part is, the place theyâre going to â the Tavern â itâs got rooms you can rent out for wedding receptions. Just imagine if down the line, they got mar-â
âDad,â you stop him. You think youâll be physically sick if you let him finish that sentence. âSorry, I just â Iâm really tired, all of a sudden. I think Iâm going to head to bed early.â
Itâs not a complete lie. Youâre emotionally exhausted as a result of the past couple days. Sleep sounds like a much-needed, blissful escape right now.
Your dad doesnât question you. He just nods. Swipes your plate from in front of you and brings it to the sink along with his.
Of course, you find it impossible to actually drift off that night. Tossing and turning, you battle the glaring urge to get up, slink into the home-office and look up directions to the Tavern.Â
Not that youâre planning to go there anytime soon â youâre just curious. Thatâs all.Â
Around midnight, you give up, pad down the hallway and into the room parallel yours. The computer dials up slowly, and you chew your bottom lip as you wait.Â
You snatch a piece of paper from the printer and a pen from the #1 Dad mug that sits next to the monitor. Click on the internet icon and type the words into the search bar.
This is definitely a bad idea. Maybe the worst youâve had in a while.
You jot the address down anyway.
Downtown Austin is buzzing with life.Â
Patrons spilling out of bars, tourists striding down the street in their brand new Stetsons â it almost distracts you from the task at hand.Â
At just past seven, youâd told your dad you were going out, meeting a friend for drinks. Heâd been a bit taken aback, seeing as youâre not very social these days, but heâd seemed happy. Relieved.Â
Thatâs not what youâre doing, of course.
No â in reality, youâre turning into the parking lot attached to the Tavern. Itâs packed to the brim with cars, but you still manage to find Joelâs truck, its license plate number burned into the back of your mind after countless mornings of absently reading it as you snuck past.
Itâs idle and empty when you inch by, and even though you knew heâd be here, on this date, your heart still sinks. Because maybe a tiny part of you had hoped heâd stand Deb up.Â
You should leave. It was stupid to come here in the first place. What are you going to do â storm inside and demand that he leave with you?
You consider it for half a second, groaning when you realize how pitiful you are. Defeated, you swing your car into a spot at the back, facing the building, and shift it into park. You hug the steering wheel dejectedly.
From here, you have a straight-shot view of the restaurantâs entrance, a set of double doors at the side of the building. Groups spill out every so often, every pair that emerges causing your back to arch reflexively.
Joel and Deb are probably discussing their interests right now, bonding over a shared connection with your dad. You can vividly picture the smile likely plastered across his face â the same one youâve elicited with sweet filth whispered in his ear.
And youâre here, sitting in your running car, watching the door. Your pulse thumps obnoxiously loud in your ears.
Minutes pass like molasses, slow and thick. You watch the clock on the car radio obsessively, betting with yourself on what time theyâll leave. After thirty minutes of nothing, youâre convinced that theyâre going to close the place out.
But then the door opens again, and you straighten up, immediately met with the sight of Joel and Deb.Â
Sheâs talking animatedly, eyes widening every few words, blonde hair wafting around her narrow face. Itâs undeniable that sheâs stunning, even from far away; possesses the kind of beauty you see on magazine covers in line at the grocery store. The jealousy that pools in your gut burns like acetone in an open wound.
She takes his arm as they walk toward the parking lot, and he lets her, despite the rest of his body appearing strangely rigid.
You wonder if heâll take her home. Lead her to his truck, help her up the step to the passenger seat and sneak a look at her ass under her dress before shutting the door. If theyâll leave her car in the lot for the night, come back to retrieve it in the morning once heâs helped her forget about her loser ex-husband; let the scent of her perfume seep into the bed sheets to cover up yours.
But he doesnât lead her to his truck. You watch as they unexpectedly turn down a row of cars, disappearing from your view completely, his arm still locked with hers.Â
He could still kiss her. Press her against the car. Promise her that heâll call â and he will, first thing tomorrow. Heâs probably just being a real gentleman. Treating her like a woman he might want to marry someday.Â
Maybe he knows, after just one date, that sheâs his soulmate. Heâll buy the ring in a couple weeks. Theyâll be engaged in a monthâs time, and heâll say he just couldnât wait any longer.Â
Sheâs the one thing Iâve been missing.
You stew in the agonizing unknown for what feels like hours before Joel materializes once again, backside illuminated by headlights as he strides toward his truck.
And then â he stops. You see the exact moment he notices your car in the parking lot, his eyebrows threading together and his hands splaying over his hips.
Heâs staring directly through the windshield. At you.
Fuck.
He takes a few slow steps. Stops in front of the hood. Narrows his eyes and flexes his jaw.
With a deep breath, you unlock the doors. Gesture for him to get in the passenger side.Â
He immediately rounds the car, prying the door open and climbing inside just as a SUV pulls out the row he and Deb had walked down.Â
The door slams when he yanks it closed. The sound echoes through the cab of the car.
âYou wanna fuckinâ explain what youâre doinâ here?â he snaps. Youâre afraid to look him in the eye, embarrassment and now, anger, spooling hot behind your ears.
You know youâre in the wrong. You shouldnât have followed him. But does he have to be so hostile?
When your gaze finally meets his, he looks â distraught â jaw clenched and lips set in a straight line. His fingers absently dig into denim-covered thighs.
âI donât know,â you mumble, âI just wanted to see how you were with her.â And itâs the truth; not one you want to be admitting right now, to him, but itâs the truth nonetheless.
âDoesnât give you the right to spy on me.â
âSo what was I supposed to do? Sit at home and mope while the guy I was seeing is on a date with someone else? Oh no, Iâm sorry,â you throw your hands up, form air quotes with your fingers, âthe guy I was fooling around with.â
This seems to strike a nerve. His jaw twitches, and his fingers still on his lap.
âIt wasnât like that,â he grits
âNo? Isnât that all this was to you: fooling around?â
Thereâs a beat. Joel sighs.Â
âNo â fuck, no. Of course not.â
His expression softens. A crack in solid stone. âI tried callinâ you,â he says, voice barely above a whisper.
âI know,â you admit.
He nods. Another beat.
âDid you kiss her?â you ask.
âNo.â He says it with intent, with promise, eyes firmly locked on yours now.Â
Your mouth goes dry.
âNo?â
âNo,â he repeats. âI didnât.â
âWhy not?â
âBecause I didnât want to.â
âYou donât want her?âÂ
âNo,â he says flatly, his pupils bulging in the lamplight, black bleeding into the brown of his irises. âI donât want her.âÂ
âWhy not?âÂ
He leans forward. His weight presses into the center console and his breath fans your face â warm, tinged with the scent of cheap beer.
âI donât want her,â he says, voice an octave lower, âbecause I want you. I thought you knew that?âÂ
The radio drones between the two of you, some classic rock song you think you recognize flitting through the speaker. Your pulse beats staccato in your throat, off tempo.
âYou want me?â you ask, a little breathless, and the next words you say are beyond dumb, beyond reckless, but you say them anyway. âProve it.â
Joel doesnât hesitate. He closes the slight distance between you and kisses you, hard, his tongue frantically sliding against yours through parted lips.
Itâs sloppy, and desperate, and you feel drunk on the taste of him, on longing laced with carnal need. Heâs groaning into your mouth, grabbing your head with both hands, burying his fingers in your hair â as if he canât get close enough, as if heâll only be satisfied once heâs swallowed you whole. Youâre pretty sure you want him to.
Your hands move frantically to his t-shirt, then, bunch into the fabric and pull. You need to feel the skin underneath, need to rove your hands along his bare chest. He accommodates, tugging the shirt by the back of the collar, lips separating from yours ever-so-briefly to bring it over his head and toss it onto the backseat.Â
And then heâs back on you, licking into your mouth again, eliciting a whimper from you when his hand wraps around the side of your throat, just under your jaw.Â
Your palms splay across his torso, wander over warm, golden skin. Youâve missed this, god, youâve missed this â but itâs still not enough. You need to feel more of him. In your mouth, in your hand, in your cunt â youâre not picky. Just need him in whatever way heâll provide.
âJoel,â you whimper into his mouth, fingers winding around his bicep.Â
He pulls back. Peers at you through hooded eyes. âWhat is it, baby?â he asks through labored breaths.Â
âNeed you â please.â
He immediately unbuckles your seatbelt. Lowers his seat back and manhandles you onto his lap. You go easily; slot yourself to him with legs folded on either side of his thighs.Â
Wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, you grind down into his lap. His cock strains against denim underneath you. He groans when you swivel your hips and brush the heft of it again with your clothed heat.
âYou gonna let me fuck you?â he asks into your mouth, his forehead pressed to yours.
Your breath catches.Â
You know what heâs really asking: are you going to let him fuck you here, in the parking lot of a public establishment, where anybody could see?
But you donât care. In fact, youâre way past caring, the emptiness of your cunt too painful to ignore any longer. Let them watch him take whatâs his.
You nod frantically. âYes,â you pant. âPlease.â
Joel nods too, as if heâs accepting his fate. Heâs going to fuck his friendâs daughter in the passenger seat of her car. Thereâs no way around it â not when youâre begging for it. Heâs going to give you what you need.
âOkay,â he soothes, âI got you baby.âÂ
He helps you out of your pants, then; clumsily maneuvers them down and off your legs along with your panties and tosses them aimlessly into the back.
He doesnât bother to take his jeans off. Lets you unzip them and pop the button open, your nimble fingers making quick work of it. And then youâre pulling his cock out of his boxers, stiff and leaking in your grasp.
You steady yourself with hands on his shoulders just as he begins to pepper placating kisses along your neck. âGo ahead baby,â he whispers into your ear. âTake it; itâs yours.â
His head falls back against the seat as you stroke him a few times and line his cock up with your dripping entrance, his hands clasped around your waist.Â
You sink down slowly, savoring every inch of him as he burrows in deeper. Heâs so thick, stretching you like itâs the first time again, your walls fluttering as they relax around his cock.
âFuck,â Joel slurs, fingers digging into your skin impatiently when you still, fully seated on him.
âGotta move baby â please move.â
Heâs so fucking deep, though, his cockhead bumping your cervix, and your entire body feels gelatinous atop him. A cloying sort of heat hangs around your head. You swivel your hips weakly, your forehead falling to rest on his with a heavy sigh.
Joel is happy to take control, bucking up into you so hard you see stars. You canât suppress the string of moans that spill from your mouth, and Joel doesnât seem to mind. Heâs just as loud, anyway, his broken sounds bleeding into yours, bouncing off glass and leather.
Neither of you can muster an actual word, though, not with him rutting up into you, sheathing himself in your pussy over and over again. Heâs relentlessly hitting that spot â the one that has you practically clinging to him for dear life.Â
Itâs approaching too quickly; heâs going to make you come.
One of your hands flies to the roof of the car in an attempt to brace yourself, flat palm pressing into it so hard you worry itâll pop.Â
Joel takes the opportunity to drag you down in his lap, spearing you on his cock, and the sudden change in angle makes you cry out.
âOh fâ ahh, oh myââ
âThatâs it,â he coos, âyou got it, babygirl.â
His words tip you over the edge, your entire body locking up as you gush around him. Youâre wetting his lap, slick splattering his thighs, and he loves it, his fervid moan telling you so.
His movements begin to falter then, hips stuttering underneath you as he chases his own high.
âCmon, baby,â you goad, âplease fill me up.â
He grunts when he spills inside, his face nestling in your chest, heaving as he works through it and begins to come down. You donât move, not that Joel would let you, still holding you on his lap like heâs afraid to let you go.
You nuzzle into his embrace as his cock softens inside you.
You stay like that for a while, probably too long given that anybody could easily look into the car and see you straddling him. You donât have the energy to care.
Eventually, you lift your head from its spot on Joelâs chest. Look up at him with bleary eyes.
âJoel,â you say.
He meets your gaze, face shiny with sweat and his hair a mess. He looks gorgeous like this, you think. The way only you get to see him.
âYeah?â He grazes along your arm with featherlight fingers. His touch raises goosebumps on your skin.
âDid you mean it?â
âMean what?â
âAbout wanting me.â In truth, youâre not sure you want the answer. But you need to know, definitively, if Joel is yours. Youâre done sharing him.
âOh, baby,â he drawls. âOf course I do. Youâre all I want. Do you want me?â
And itâs a stupid question. He has to know that. Youâre nodding before he can even finish it. âYes,â you breathe. âI want you, Joelâ
âThen itâs settled. Itâs me and you. No moreâŚinterlopers.â
You giggle. Reluctantly separate yourself from his body and re-dress. You settle back into the driverâs seat with achy legs.
Youâve never felt more content than you do in this moment.
Still, youâll have to hide â wonât be able to share the news of your new relationship with friends or coworkers, your dad â and neither will Joel.Â
You donât care much, not as long as heâs yours, but you need to be sure he feels the same.
âJoel,â you stop him as he opens the passenger-side door to get out. He stills with one leg swung out the door.
âYeah, darlinâ?â
âAre you sure you donât mindâŚbeing a secret? Donât mind keeping me a secret?â
He looks at you like you have two heads.
He pulls his leg back into the car. Shuts the door and leans over the console again.
Taking your chin between his fingers, he forces your gaze. Makes sure youâre listening.
âI want you â doesnât matter who knows or doesnât know. Long as youâre mine.â
Your chest tightens, and your heart squeezes inside your ribcage.
âIâm yours?â
He smiles. Presses a chaste kiss between your eyes, on the tip of your nose, on your lips. The same way he did the other morning.Â
It all feels somehow sweeter, now.
âYeah, angel. Youâre mine. My girl.â
end notes: tysm for reading! please consider commenting and/or reblogging if you enjoyed! I've been toying with the idea of turning this into a series so lmk if that's something you'd be interested in hehe.
Also, I hopped on the bandwagon and made a sideblog for notifs! I'll be doing away with a taglist from here on out, so follow @joelscurlsupdates & turn on notifications if you wanna be notified when I post a new fic :-)
tag list: @janaispunk @amanitacowboy @fhatbhabie @frannyzooey @lola8888673
#joel x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#dbf!joel#joel miller x reader#joel miller#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller smut#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal fanfiction#tlou fic#the last of us fanfiction
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Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART â
of â
Ą
|| Word Count: 1.5K || Angst â Fluff ||
A/N: I had this as a big idea that I had to get down before the basic headcanons and stuff, so here's my take on our Lisan al Gaib đ if you like this then hit me up for some relationship headcanons and the like, I'm up for it all. Enjoy reading or watching the movie if you haven't already - I'm going again lol, and screen X is the best way to experience it fr Also I feel like I should write a second part to this lmao, if you liked what you read?
You weren't one for dreams of destiny.
The dreams you had seemed meaningless, confusing, nothing to do with what ifs and what could. Not like his.
But you always seemed to feel some kind of atmosphere, an aura you couldn't quite shake off, even when you woke up from the darkness. There was no face to go with the voice, the voice in the dark that called to you in whispers that you didn't understand. Beautiful words that weren't yours, but sounded so soft and gentle and powerful, as they reached out to you from distant lands.
You could never place them, pin them down and study them, understand them, until the day the Emperor was challenged by a ghost of a lost House, thought to be dead, left to be forgotten. You stand near the Emperor and his guards and men, the Great Houses looming and listening from higher above, as the Fremen fill up the space to watch the confrontation in spirited anticipation.
The life debt was paid. The late Emperor was overthrown. The ascendancy of Paul Atreides rose and took from the throne to claim it.
His attention flicks from his eyes boring coldly into the Emperor's, to meet yours, his voice smooth and set, full of conviction and force.
"Our destiny is together. I'll take her."
Your eyes widen slightly as his words sink in, blinking through the shock and incredulity that rushes through you and makes your heart race in apprehension and wonder. Though his voice twins with your wandering dreams, you don't know whether to feel fascination and longing, or fear and cautiousness at some greater force beyond your understanding, playing out before your very eyes.
"I..." your voice falters in uncertainty and disbelief, and you try again. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me well," Paul responds with an undying, stoic certainty that's almost unnerving. "As I know you."
His eyes study you, his Spice-stained blue eyes bleeding into yours, scanning every freckle on your face and curve of your outfit. Assessing you, knowing you, ridiculous throngs of power filling his aura and projecting onto you with his intense stare. You have to fight not to shiver under it, ultimately failing.
"What of me?" is the wisest reply you can think of before the silence stretches into dangerous uncertainty.
"Everything," Paul says evenly, but there's no mistaking the challenge and determination in his tone, almost daring you to reject him, to disagree, a built-up desire of dreamt promises resolving his stand. "I choose you, as my Empress. We will rule together, over the Empire."
Scepticism and bewilderment washes over you and makes your blood heat and stir, retreating into silence as he takes a step closer to you, gazing at you as if you're the most curious, exotic being he's ever seen.
Desire threatens to override Paul Atreides' reason, clinging onto the hope and chance of a narrow way through to light, a light that could only be sought out with you by his side. Without you, there was nothing in sight but pools of blood replacing luscious marine life and oceans running through Arrakis, disarray and disillusion at every turn and infecting every heart.
You were absolutely perfect.
And you were already his, long before this moment, before you and he were born into the world and named. There was no manipulation needed, because everything was laid out for him to take, welcoming him to rule and grow higher and higher. Fate had bonded you and strung you along to here and now, and as you blink up into his bright eyes that narrow slightly at you, frowning softly as if you hadn't understood his demand.
"Do you know what I am?"
You pause for a moment, speaking slowly and cautiously, as the crowd of Fremen and the wary, late Emperor watch on in tense wordlessness. "You are Leto Atreides' son. Former Duke of Caladan."
"What I am," Paul repeats evenly, "not who I am." He stares at you in silence for another beat, before speaking up again. "Do you know of the Bene Gesserit?"
You stop yourself from glancing in Lady Jessica's direction just in time; the runes patterning her skin, her once soft eyes now spiked with an unfamiliar darkness of ages past. Anyone could get trapped in her watchful glare, and her son's holds almost as much intensity.
"No," you decide on hesitantly.
"Kwisatz Hederach," he adds, taking another step forward until you can feel his breath tickling your cheeks, standing above you with unspoken grace and vigor. "I see the future. A part of me is the future."
His hand is suddenly squeezing yours warmly and tightly, making you flinch slightly and glance down at them before looking back up at him.
"In this future, I am with you."
All you can do is stare at him in awe and wariness, not knowing whether to let your curiosity guide you, or distance yourself as far as possible from the boy who reigns over the dunes.
"Why?" you whisper, the crowds seeming to fade around you as you focus on the boy in front of you, his fingers tangling with yours boldly.
"I've seen it," Paul insists, his tone a touch softer in thought and wistfulness. "All of it. When I am with you..." His grip tightens over yours, the fire in his eyes returning. "We're unstoppable."
"And..." your words dry before you can speak them, and you will yourself to go on, unable to break away from the deep blue hues of his gaze. "And without?"
His jaw visibly clenches at your question, and his hand drops yours, shaking his head only answer as he glances away in slight frustration.
"You don't have the leisure of choice. It's all been made for you, written in the sands and stars, and what you need to do is walk in its path. I will show you the way. You have no other. Do you understand?"
The firmness is strong in his words and glare, making you look away from him too, still in a slight stun over the rush of events. In less than a day, your freedom has been stripped to this young man's desires and destiny, entwined with yours. You, who barely knew him until now, only familiar with his voice, his words, that echoed and rang in your head like a lullaby.
But this feels so harsh and strict. The eyes of the former Emporer linger between the two of you, and Paul's army of Fremen stand behind him attentively, some gazing at you in admiration and hope, of their messiah's promised bride. And she is beautiful.
"That's unfair."
"The future is unfair," Paul says calmly, his collected, cool tone wavering for a moment. "But it will be so much worse without you by my side, and I will not accept that. Not for my people... not for myself."
You stare at him in fascination and caution, lost for words. His fingers rise to brush against the skin of your cheek, sending tingles in their wake and making you fight back the automatic reaction, your eyes following his surprisingly gentle touch. Two fingers trace down the shape of your cheek down to your chin, tilting your head slightly upwards. Just one step closer, and your lips would be touching too.
"Name anything," he murmurs to you, the Fremen straining to hear his voice as it reaches you effortlessly, his expression earnest and determined. "Anything. And it is yours. Only if you willingly wed me in turn. Not as a concubine, nor a mistress."
You blink, then blink again, taken aback as a million thoughts and suggestions race through your mind and make your head spin for a split second. You glance at the elder Emperor, who gazes back at you and the infamous Lisan al Gaib wearily, his eyes clouded with sombreness and light spite.
"I... I don't," you shake your head, overwhelmed by an impossible choice. "I don't know..."
Paul's expression softens into a smile you haven't seen before, one that makes your cheeks flush with colour as you watch him; a gentle, amused smile that's somehow familiar and unfamiliar all at once, one meant just for you, as he disregards his surroundings.
"You will know," he replies quietly, "and I will have you, and protect you, rule with you. Love you. As I am meant to."
Paul suddenly brings you closer, pulling you into a searing kiss without warning. The exotic, earthy taste of the Spice on his tongue floods your senses and sends shudders of ecstasy and heat coursing under your skin and hushing the myriad of thoughts buzzing in your mind in an instant.
When he pulls away, all too soon, you find yourself chasing his lips before you catch yourself, and Paul gives you another soft smile, his forehead resting against yours as your eyes lock.
"And as I long to," he finishes against your lips, his words grounded with a look of protectiveness and desire that makes you instinctively relax further in his hold.
âšâšâš
From beyond you both, his mother smiles slightly at the scene, a hand hovering over her rounded stomach.
The first step has been made.
âââââââââââââââšâąâź part two coming soon â˝â°âšââââââââââââââ
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