#the mystery of mr. v

[nenoname]

i know we can assume that the red suit design was only made for tale of two stans and didnt exist when blendin's game was made + with the question mark pattern it would be more of a pain to animate, but the timing works out so that after stan hit rock bottom again in 1998 where not even his natural talent at running the mystery shack was lasting, he finally gave in and started wearing his dad's old suit...

[mmmmuffins]

i need the whole script to the good bad mother NOW

[dmbakura]

so many people who say V isn't a goth because he robbed the first dude he found of his clothes, miss the part where he had ample time to procure other attire if he truly wanted it, but instead chose to not only remain in those clothes for a month, but accessorized with that fit

[eightyuh]

Kevin's Fanon personality begins to grate on Ryo / my attempt at a SynthV Kevin origin comic part 5

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4)

[v-thinks-on]

At centre stage stands Harlequin patterned in diamonds like panes of glass stained in brilliant hues, a dark mask over his eyes, and baton in hand. His gestures are broad; wave of stick, turn of head, pirouette of legs. Yet, his movement is fleet, dodging and taunting the bumbling Pierrot, and dancing with the lovely Columbine.

With his baton, he transforms the scene from parlour to avenue to sprightly woods, and the players from maids and gentlemen to lords and ladies or even to birds and beasts. He traipses through walls and weaves in and out of sight in impossible leaps and bounds.

Yet, for all his trickery, his face remains impassive, except perhaps a knowing look in his shadowed eyes. Each movement is deliberate without hesitation, each step lighter than air. He is a man of mystery, yet in familiar form. His lips hide countless secrets, yet he will never say a word.

(Read More on AO3)

[ccaptain]

While H:SR Kaeya is driven by kindness, there are times where keeping someone in line out of pure fear is not only a thing he'll indulge in- but he'll be remorseless in utilizing it, as he has tried to reason and was met with stubborness. It's his last resort.

He'd do anything for the kids that he knows and doesn't.

Entering the stage: Mr. Derroule, and the Family Derroule Orphanage.

Mr. Derroule is a rotound, somewhat amicable little man that opened an orphanage with his wife Delilah, his mother-in-law Tallulah and the many, many workers in his manor, converting it into the main building the children he hosts live in comfortably and safely. When Kaeya started bringing more children in, he had another big building constructed just beside the manor, opening up many more possibilities for these children. Inside of these buildings, they have a school, two cafeterias, many bedrooms, and recreative playgrounds to putter and play in.

While Delilah and Tallulah really do love the children and are as sweet as they can be with the lot of them, a few minutes of conversation with Mr. Derroule will let anyone with a brain know that he did this for the money, and less out of the goodness in his good heart.

For every kid that he takes in, the planet they're in pays him a lump sum that should go into their susteinance and growth. This is the extent of the care he has for the children he takes in. And while the money does, indeed, go into the betterment of the orphanage and the children's expenses, the rest he puts in his pocket. If this was the only problem, Kaeya would leave him be.

Kaeya's problem with Mr. Derroule is that he isn't fond of kids.

He shoos them away, and there have been episodes where his hands were a little to quick on them. Never outright abuse, but a little shove, a little loss of patience and a child or two left crying with the imprints of his fingers on their arm to drag them off. He doesn't have, and never had, the patience and love his wife and mother-in-law do. 

However, his mistake was not imposing silence on the kids. Perhaps he thought he wasn't doing anything wrong, being a bit old-school as he called himself, and that the lots of them could do with a little more discipline.

The next time Kaeya visited with toys and gifts in tow, he was informed of what has happened by a group of frightened children.

He checked their fading bruises with a flicker of something in his eye, led them to the cafeteria as they grouped around him like ducklings, and bought them a bowl of ice cream each. He sat the offended kids on his knees, and promised them that he would have a talk with Mr. Derroule about his behavior- and that he would be corrected.

Nobody knows what happened when he climbed up the stairs to Derroule's office. But, after their little chat, the man pales if he meets a child in the corridors of the orphanage, and runs away as fast as his short legs allow him to. When he's forced in the kids proximity, he puts on a wide, all-toothed smile and shakes like a leaf, his tone a fake saccharine one. The kids have started to suspect that something is up- but they like this version of the man better than the grumpy one.

Shortly after, in the next visit he paid to the orphanage, Kaeya brought a flock of 23 people with him. He told Tallulah and Delilah that he wishes to help them further, and that these were trusted people that wanted to be hired as addictional helpers. This was, of course, wonderful news, as more hands helping around cheeky and very active kids were always welcomed. 

Thus, Kaeya infiltrated twenty-three avatars of Fictionologists, that agreed to help, him in the orphanage. Needless to say, having fourty-six pair of eyes appointed on him all the time kept Mr. Derroule in check and on his toes at all times.

Every time Derroule has to greet him, as the head of the orphanage, Kaeya's teeth show just a little bit more than usual. His smile is more akin to a dobermann showing off his fangs than the polite one he presents himself with. His body language, in the presence of the man, spells out THREAT in big bold letters that send a message. He isn't regretful of the fear he instills in Mr. Derroule, for he knows people like him don't know reason and act out of intimidation.

If Kaeya had to give him credit, he'd say that his behavior has improved drastically, by this point- and he receives daily reports that come mostly from the chattiest Fictionologists. The most eventful one, quite recently, was:

[TXT from: Johanna] today Joakim fell and scraped his knee :(  Kaeya: Oh no!!! Did you disinfected and applied a patch to it? [TXT from: Johanna] yup. also gave him a candy. he's a sweet kid but jeez does he trip over AIR Kaeya: 👍!

Kaeya would do anything to keep the children safe. Including hijacking an orphanage, apparently.

[seasaltmemories]

Rewatched the intro to Arc V's Battle Royale arc and while it always was card game anime bullshit, it is so much funnier knowing this is genuinely Reiji trying his best, there's no ulterior motive he's just 16 and faced with the fact he has to defend an entire city from an invasion and just goes "what if we don't tell anyone and he just keep them distracted while we try and deal with it"

[fightingwithallreality]

Mountain Pony and the Elkhorn Mystery (1950) written by Henry V. Larom, illustrated by Ross Santee

[crypticsdv]

Ugh god he’s so attractive I love him he’s so mysterious

The strange blue man knows exactly how much dirt you've hoed

[jerseyskings]

[coweye]

The Honda Odyssey

Logan Howlett x Reader | smut | 6k words Summary: The car fight reimagined and it only needed to be like 10% more erotic than the original.

I got carried away. I just love Wolvie so much. I'm so happy Logan is getting the adoration he deserves. Long live the Wolverine renaissance.

Warning: smut, p in v, ass play, foul language.

If you had to pinpoint a moment when your life became the shit show it had steadily developed into, you’d say it was the moment you auditioned for X-Force.

In your tenure as besties with Wade Wilson, it's fair to say things hadn’t gone smoothly. The man was a conduit to all things fucked up, but you adored his loose morals and quick mouth. The idiot in red had weaselled his way into your heart and became something of a brother to you and more recently a roommate.

Now, if you’d have told your younger self you’d be in your late twenty’s sharing an apartment with a burn victim who regularly staples a toupee to his fucking head and a coke-head, blind, old African American woman, you’d have laughed in their fucking face.

So, you’d like to think that as these things go you are pretty damn well adjusted but traversing the multiverse was a bit of a stretch, even for you.

One moment you’re at Wade’s surprise party, the next your ass has been zapped to the TVA and you’ve been given a sacred mission; to accompany Marvel Jesus (Wade) and protect the sacred timeline.

Naturally you’re fucking mind blown, you’re a low-level mutant, fuck, you couldn’t even join the X-Men.  Your particular set of skills were a dime a dozen and your flagrant disregard of rules had made you a ‘poor candidate’.

No, the mutant powers you had been graced with weren’t extraordinary by any means. You were basically an off-brand Captain America, just without the gorgeous cheekbones, patriotism and righteous need to do good.

In layman terms, you are strong as shit and have an accelerated healing factor. Not quite the same level as Wade’s mind you. You have, give or take, an inconvenient five-minute turnaround on the more fatally debilitating wounds.

To say you were unqualified was an understatement and to say you were reluctant was a simple fact. A fact you repeated, loudly to anyone that would listen as you were bathed in rich black leather.

“I think maybe you meant to grab negasonic teenage whatchacallit… she’s great, super powerful!” You continue. “Did you mean to get Domino or Colossus or maybe one of the X-Men? “

“No Miss Y/L/N. We have not got the wrong person for the job.” The man you later find out is called Paradox, calls out as you re-enter the operation headquarters. “Mr Wilson requested your presence; he wanted your assistance on his mission.”

“Y/N/N… ten out of ten, baby girl, I one hundred percent would bang. I’m talking raw dog, Barry White on a rug, let’s go all fuckin’ night.”  Wade hollers in his own brand-new suit and even you must admit, you look fucking amazing. “Sweet angel, we’ve just gotta’ come up with a superhero name for you!”

You are enrobed in rich thick black and teal leather, your first ever hero suit and it’s a fucking good one. It doesn’t cling, but instead pulls you in securing your flesh and extenuating curves, ones you hadn’t entirely realised you had. The bottom half your face is concealed with a mask, carefully crafted to follow the contours of your nose and cheekbones.

You’d barely recognised the mysterious figure in the mirror.

“Right?! Tailor was pretty handsy though!”

“Oh yeah, ha! - that man is indeed a predator.” Wade says with a chuckle and a fond sigh.

It shames to you to say but that’s when you stopped fighting this whole thing. You looked the part of a hero; you thought that maybe the TVA knew what they were doing. That they had seen something in you and knew that you had a good heart under all the darkness that lingered on the surface.

Wrong.

You were just a demand Wade had made. He wanted his number one disciple at his side whilst he carried out his sacred mission. You were part of an attempt at appeasing him whilst they destroyed your timeline.

Little more than a pawn to be used whilst they manipulated him into a false sense of security.

Thus, you were thrown into a series of events far beyond your control when Wade being Wade decided you were hunting down a Wolverine to stabilise the timeline, only to be once again fucking zapped into some place they called the void by that little English shitbird named Paradox. It’s entirely accurate to say that you were a little less sturdy than your compadres.

Unfortunately for you, the fall from such a height into the void was fatal. When you finally awake in the desolate wasteland to the sounds of blades clashing it is disorientating to say the least.

Forcing yourself to your feet you lower your mask and gasp in the sweet strangely stale oxygen as you stretch out your newly healed spine with a groan. It was impossible to tell how long you were out as you take in the scene before you; Wade and the Wolverine are engaged in a heated battle. From the looks of it, Logan is winning this fight despite being the human equivalent of a knife block with Wade’s katanas protruding from his chest.

For a moment you pause, perhaps its head trauma that hasn’t healed (He’s fucking Deadpool, he can look after himself for two minutes) and appreciate his form, the Wolverine the two of you had kidnapped was gorgeous. Tch, as if there was any other kind.

Sure, you were biased you’d always been somewhat of a fangirl, but the Wolverine was objectively breath-taking.

You’d indulged in comics whilst growing up but when you found out he was real and looked the way he did, hell, Wolverine was your sexual awakening. He was the first man to make you feel that tingle in your lower stomach. Yes, you may have been thirteen years old, a ball of puppy fat and social anxiety but you’d been waiting for him ever since. 

You’re snapped out of your reverie when Wade loses baby knife in Logan’s shoulder blade, finally you spring into action. In good time as well as you’re not sure if even Deadpool can survive decapitation.

In the singularly most stupid act of your life you throw yourself in front of your friend’s body. “Wait, Wait! Please!”  

Wade has paused behind you, you can feel him weighing up the situation, pausing for a moment to see what you’re going to pull out of the bag.

“The TVA they can fix it, whatever you did, whatever made you the worst Logan, they can fix it! – They have the power to end universes, but they also have the power to fix yours! Help us get back there and we can fix both of our worlds! I promise, they can fix it.” You plead, it’s not quite a lie exactly, more of an Educated Wish than anything.

Okay it is a lie, but you’re sure that the TVA can most likely, probably, maybe fix his world.

Logan’s eyes lock with yours in that moment you can see that he wants to kill you both and be done with it, but that hope won’t let him. You feel a smidgen of guilt for the deceit, but frankly you’ve done worse for less. Your world was on the line it wasn’t the time to pull your punches.

Fast forward four exhausting hours, two periods of unconsciousness and one flaying to find yourself sat opposite Wade gagging down cold spoonful’s of Spam in some dusty ass diner.

You were no better than a man as you watched the Wolverine.

Those arms, those thighs, the way he had beheaded Sabretooth without even breaking a fucking sweat. You wanted him to wrap those instruments of death he called hands around your throat and fuck you dirty until the sun came up.

It had been a long exhausting day and you had been soaking wet for most of it.

Shit, could he smell that? Does that count as sexual harassment? You’d have to ask Wade.

Logan, however, was utterly dismissive of your advances in the face of what was undoubtedly utterly horrific past trauma. Something you were trying to be understanding about, but self-pity in a man, it just turned you on. I said you had some surface layers of darkness.

Unable to help yourself you gaze at him as he opens a bottle of rubbing alcohol. You are utterly entranced, watching the thick chords in his throat bob as he takes a swig.

That tanned skin where his jaw ends and neck begins, slick with sweat and dirt. You’d love to sink your canines into the strip below his ear. He must feel your stare on him as he looks up and catches your eyes dark with lust already surveying his person.

It should embarrass you, that every time he peers your way, he catches you gaping at him like a lovesick puppy, but there’s something about Logan you can’t quite put your finger on. The man heats your blood like nothing you’ve ever experienced before, maybe it’s that torch you’ve carried for him since girlhood, maybe it’s the thick thighs you’d kill to ride – who can say for sure?

In what you assume is against his better judgement, he comes to perch on the booth beside you. His broad shoulders cast an imposing figure as he gets close enough that if you were to move your hand a couple of inches to the right, you’d finally be able to touch that yellow fabric that plagued your tween dreams.

You’re burning up at the thought of him, unable to stop yourself you part your legs slightly to ease some of the pressure. Logans nose twitches, his head swivels your way and his eyes catch your own.  

Welp - at least you have your answer about him smelling your arousal.

Deciding that you were most likely verging on sexual harassment charges you decided to focus back in on the task at hand, gagging once again at another spoonful of spam.

“Be a good girl and swallow, Y/N/N, you know the rules!” Wade jokes, your chortle was your only response. What could you say? He always hit your funny bone despite the ocean that was raging in your panties.

Logan stares at Wade for a long moment before turning to your way and addressing you for maybe only the fourth time today?

“What are you doing with this fucking clown? You his sidekick? Following him round to laugh at his stupid fucking jokes whilst he gets kids killed?”

“Why I have never.” Wade is faux outraged at his words, clutching his imaginary pearls as the Wolverine throws around accusations that aren’t entirely untrue.

The Wolverine’s expression remains stern as his eyes track your face. They seem to be evaluating your character and from the flare in his nose and crease in his brow you can guess he finds you lacking. You’re embarrassed to admit how much that deflates you, so you do what you do best; you deflect.

 “I could follow you around and laugh at your jokes instead, if you like?” When you speak your voice has a sultry edge to it and there’s no mistaking your intentions.

Logan seems to think on your proposition for a second or two, before he huffs grabs his rubbing alcohol and unopened can of Spam and heads over to sit at the bar.

“Holy hot ham and cheese on rye, Y/N, you fucking slut.” Wade berates you though his voice is as light as it’s always been as he boots your shin under the table. “Trying to your holes filled by Wolvie during a world saving mission, Marvel H Christ, stay on fucking task!”

You swear you hear Logan mutter a Jesus Christ from the bar.

Though as Wade continues irritating the hero hunched against bar, you can’t help the realisation that he didn’t say no.

“You’re uh… well regarded in our world.” Wade complements, being real doesn’t come easy to him. You appreciate the effort.

“Well, I’m not shit in mine.”

“I tried to join the X-Men because of you.” You speak up finally joining their conversation. Wolverine’s back goes rigid, but he doesn’t respond. You’re not sure if he’s waiting for you to continue or hoping you’ll stop. “You made a difference to this world, made me think I could do the same. I just never quite make the cut.”

Logan doesn’t seem to have a response.

It seems your words have an effect as you catch him watching you more often. When Wade makes his jokes, he looks to you for validation of his withering looks.

You’re probably more distracted by this revelation than you should be when the three of you come across a real nasty variant of Colossus seeking out Wade for… you want to say… revenge?

The not-so-gentle-anymore-giant flips the Honda and tosses both Wade and Logan through the treeline as they advance on him as if they were little more than toys his mother had asked him to pick up.

One by one your bullets ricochet from his metal skin as he comes towards you. You aren’t built for this fight; you are completely and utterly outmatched.

All you’re doing at this point is buying yourself some time for your backup to pull themselves from the rubble, however during a particularly spirited cartwheel the metal oaf finally gets his hands on you. Colossus’ metal palm is cold on your throat, and you could swear you hear your neck snapping before you feel it.  

With a gasp you return to life to find a slightly dishevelled Logan standing above you. By the grace of god, his sleeves have been worn away in the fight, his arms, oh sweet lord, his arms are on full display.

“Thought you were a goner.” He offers you a hand when you simply stare mutely his way. Locking your fingers around his wrist he pulls you to your feet. You don’t release your hold on him and neither does he.

“Don’t throw the party just yet, eh?” You joke weakly, for a second you could swear there’s a slight raise of the corner of his mouth, imperceptible, if you didn’t know what you were looking for. In the past few hours you had become an expert on Wolverine’s face.  

Your mouth is dry as you take in his thick sweat laden biceps.

“Where’s Wade?” You query whilst rolling your aching neck as you haven’t heard his voice in a record thirty seconds, Logan suddenly remembers himself and drops your hand.

“’fraid Metal man took your clown, was pissed with him and can’t say I blame the guy.”

“Shit.” You sigh rubbing your temples as you kneel to pick up the dismembered arm of your best friend. “Well – fuck. That’ll take him a few hours at least to grow back – He’ll be so sad about his suit.”

You peel the fabric from the limb and tuck it under the breast plate of your own suit. Wade will want his glove back when it grows back.

“He say where he was taking him?”

“Oh yeah, that along with his plan for world domination...” Logan huffs as if your mere presence annoys him.

“Thought you didn’t like sarcasm.”

“I like sarcasm just fine, Bub. It’s you I don’t like.” You can’t help but smile his way at the comment made at your expense, his brows crease. “You’re a strange one.”

“Can you do your sniffy thing?”  Its impressive, you thought he’d reached the limit with his scathing looks towards Wade, yet he somehow manages to pull a deeper frown out the vault especially for you.

“Sniffy thing?” His words are spoken with such derision, it turns you on a little. You realise that perhaps you are in fact a deeply troubled individual.

“Oh, sorry.” You pretend to clear a frog in your throat. “Please, oh, please, beautiful, handsome Wolverine, please can you locate my bestest pal with your heightened sense of smell?” His face doesn’t break despite your hands clasped in front of your chin.

“You’re just as fucking annoying as that moron.” He huffs “Get in the fucking car, we’ll follow his trail.”

“You can smell him from the car?”

“The blood, Jesus Fucking Christ, there’s a trail of blood.”

“Ah.” Is all you reply as you find your seat in the passenger side and start your own one on one team up with Wolverine. Its not exactly the way you imagined it, but beggars certainly can’t be choosers.

After a few moments of sullen silence, you decide that there’s no time like the present to form a long-lasting bond.

“What’s your world like?”

“None of your fucking business.”

“Okay... What’s the first thing you’re gonna’ do if they can save your world? I bet its something boring as fuck, like team-“

“What did you just say?”

“I bet you’re gonna do something boring like-“

“No before that.”

“What’s the first thing you’re gonna’ do if they save your world?” You question, his sudden interest in your words takes you by surprise as he has been vacant from your conversation.

The breaks suddenly shriek as the car comes to a stop.

“What do you mean if?”

“I…”

“You said they could fix my world. Undo it all, is what you fucking said.”

“I mean I think they can!”

“You fucking liar.” The edge to The Wolverine’s voice is terrifying. The realisation trickles down your spine, Logan has been nice to you all this time, you’re finally meeting The Wolverine.

“I didn’t lie!” For some reason you’re ashamed of your deceit, you’ve murdered countless people and still, you’ve felt less remorse. Logan’s eyes pin you in your seat as disgust clouds his face. It hurts more than you can fathom. “Not exactly, I think they can fix your world! – I needed your help and if you killed Wade there was no hope for my universe!”

“I don’t give a flying fuck about your universe!” He spits your way; his hands are gripping the wheel in what seems like an effort to keep his cool.

“I know, but I do!” You cry back at him. “You know how to save the world, you’re the fucking Wolverine! I know how to kill people, but this hero shit, this isn’t me!”

“Ha! No shit.” There is pure hate in the man’s eyes as he stares back at you.

“Please, you’re Logan. Whether you’re the worst one or not - You’re still better than me.”

“Get out of the fucking car.” The words come from between clenched teeth and are filled with warning.

“No – fuck you.”  Your rage breaks the banks to meet Logan’s. Perhaps it’s the guilt, maybe it’s the fear for Wade but something within you snaps at his constant bad temper. “It was an educated guess and a fucking reasonable one at that, get the fuck over yourself you big bird wannabe geriatric fucker! “

He slams his palms on the steering wheel, his nose flares and his teeth clamp together.  “Fuck me? Fuck you – you sad pathetic excuse for a side-kick. No wonder the X-Men wouldn’t take you, and they’ll take fuckin’ anyone. You are a ridiculous, immature, moron who spends her days following around a fucking clown to avoid facing the reality that you are no one. I have never met a sadder, more attention starved asshole in my entire life. You were right about one thing, you’re no fucking hero.”

Its shameful the way your stomach drops, and your eyes involuntarily begin to tear. To hear your hero say the words you’ve thought about yourself whilst laying awake at night. It’s a knife to the gut.

“Nothing to fucking say, huh, Angel?” The use of Wade’s nickname for you is like sandpaper on your skin, it rubs you the wrong fucking way.

“I am going to hurt you now.” Your voice is barely a broken whisper.

“You’re going to hurt – “His faux chortle is cut short by a swift punch to his face. You’re worried you may have been overzealous with your swing when his nose begins bleeding. The Wolverine is stunned for only a moment before he grabs the back of your neck and proceeds with smashing your face into the dashboard and those concerns are quickly put to bed.

The old fucker is strong, but you don’t think he’ll kill you, yet another educated wish.

“Not so tough now…” He shouts as the radio channels change with your skull. Pulling a knife from your leg strap you embed it in his thigh and pull the lever to recline your seat whilst he’s distracted, luckily, you’re not there when he swings for retribution.

Though one of his fucking steak knives catches your upper arm slicing through the leather. Warm blood trickles down your arm, staining the beige interior of the poor Honda. 

Your legs are your strongest asset, so when he attempts to restrain you with the seatbelt, you are presented with your window of opportunity. You wrap them around his neck as you pivot your hips slamming the Wolverine headfirst into the metal of the door. Once, twice, three times - on the fourth he lands a fist to your gut, luckily, he has retracted his claws.

If he was willing to kill you, you wouldn’t stand a chance.

You’re winded struggling to catch your breath from the gut punch, but you manage pull the knife from his thigh that is nestled between your legs and thrust it into his neck, you aim for the spot you’d fantasied about kissing before he’d torn your character apart piece by piece, now you just want to bathe in his fucking blood.

It was the pain that instantaneously made his claws extend. He’s quick to move them, though he slices through the sides of your suit as he buries them in the chair behind you. Your ribs are a bloodied mess though you don’t care, in a few hours they’ll be good as new.

Logan has seized the opportunity and has your arms pinned to your sides, his blood has cooled a little more than yours, he doesn’t seem to want to murder you over an argument.

Perhaps he’s more well-adjusted than yourself, that thought alone should concern you, except it just enrages you further.

“You stupid fuckin-“The Wolverine starts admonishing you, before you swing your head forward and headbutt him.

Yes.

You really do that.

You headbutt the man with the adamantium fucking skeleton– at full strength. Its sheer dumb luck you don’t crack your own skull in the process– maybe Logan was right, you are fucking dumb.

“Fucking fuck!” You cry grabbing your forehead and writhing. Noone wins with a headbutt, except Logan apparently.

“Fucking stop that.” Your writhing has pushed your core against his crotch, and he is already packing quite the heat at what feels like half-mast. He grabs your hips to stop your movement, but it only seems to push you closer. “Stop fucking moving.”

The constant arousal you’ve felt since meeting him returns in double time, Logan’s nostrils flare and his eyes darken. It’s debased and you’re ashamed that you want him, you haven’t stopped wanting him, despite the awful fucking words that left his mouth minutes ago.

“Like … a little pain Wolvie?”

Its relief you feel, you think, when instead of answering or punching you in the face, he closes the gap.

The Wolverine’s claws retract, and he grabs at your chin. Logan’s mouth utterly devours your own, your front tooth clashes with his own as you push yourself upwards, you pull your knife out of his neck, catching his grunt of pain on your tongue as you begin licking your way down his thick throat.

The vein you’d spotted hours ago is throbbing freshly healed, you sink your canines into the flesh and its as good as you’d fucking imagine. His groan is utterly beast-like as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against him.

The Wolverine’s throat tastes like salt and iron. Thick, tangy and warm on your tongue as you soothe the bite. It drives Logan wild, thrusting his hardened member against your warmth. One of his gloved hands rises to lock on the back of your neck to pull you into yet another earth-shattering kiss.  His sharp hot tongue slides against your own, exploring the expanses of your mouth like its his to claim.

You bite at him again then, your teeth catching his bottom lip sharply.  Logan groans into your mouth before you use every ounce of your enhanced strength to throw him backwards against the dashboard.

He is taken utterly by surprise as his head slams into the windscreen cracking the glass with a grunt. When he looks your way Logan’s eyes are blackened with desire, he is utterly wild.

Slowly as if afraid to make any sudden moves, you unzip your combat boots, your eyes never leaving his. One boot and then the next.

You thank the TVA’s tailor for making your suit a two piece as you shuffle backwards into the backseat, pushing the thick leather down your legs all whilst maintaining eye contact with the beast leaning against the dashboard.

“You sure you want this Darlin’?”

“Darlin’?” You question mockingly, your voice lowering to imitate his own, as you wantonly spread your legs, your bare leg resting next to the headrest. Only a pair of black cotton panties separate him from your most intimate parts and his eyes are locked on your clothed core. “a second ago it was ‘Pathetic Moron’ to you.”

Your head tilts in question as his eyes lock back on your own, you think perhaps for a moment something akin to regret passes over his face, but you’ve never been entirely comfortable with feelings, so you drop your hand into the waistband of your panties, you’ve barely circled your opening with your pointer finger before he’s on you.

“That’s my job, you fucking Moron.” He plunges two bare thick fingers into your heat. Gasping you throw your head back against the headrest, it’s a tight fit and its been a while but the slight burn eases some of the aching in your core.  “You’re fuckin’ soaking wet, you like it huh, bub? Making me bleed?”

Your grab his jaw, your nails digging into his flesh. “I’d like to bathe in-” He scissors his fingers finding that spot inside you and you let out an embarrassing noise, somewhere between a gasp and a moan. “-Your fucking blood… you mean motherfucker.”

You’re an absolute goner when he starts rubbing your clit, after a day of foreplay your body seizes, and you grab at the nape of his neck trying to find something to anchor you down. But as fast as the build was you come tumbling down just as quickly, when he cruelly withdraws his hands.

“No! - Wha- what the fuck?!” You’re almost crying as your torn from the precipice.

Logan flips you over onto your stomach before you can complain any further, your face down on the filthy upholstery as he pulls your panties from your hips. You can’t see him from this angle, though you can feel his warm hands tracing the globes of your ass.

You force your knees further apart, pushing your bare soaking pussy against the tight bulge of his yellow suit. If you had enough of your facilities about you, you’d be embarrassed that you’re currently rubbing your cunt against The Wolverine like a bitch in heat after he’d chewed you out only minutes ago.

Logan’s hand dip between your thighs, his fingers swirl along your hole, dragging your wetness along to your aching clit.

“You think I’d make it that easy?” He asks as he continues the journey back and forth. On the second pass he dips his finger inside of you for a fraction of a second before resuming its path. “What do you want, darlin’?”

You weren’t going to beg, in fact you bit your tongue to stop the traitorous words from forming, this man had already made you abandon most of your self-respect, he wasn’t having this.

“Logan…” At your breathy words the man leans forward, pressing his fabric covered cock into your ass as he folds his body over yours. One hand comes down next to your shoulder, the other explore your tits as he rocks himself into your throbbing core. It’s the perfect storm as he nuzzles into your exposed throat but somehow you manage your words. “Fuck me or don’t, I’m not begging, bub.”

He exhales through his nose in what you guess is equal parts amusement and annoyance, but you’re far beyond caring. He places a bite on the spot where your throat meets your shoulder as his body pulls back. Momentarily his hands leave your hips to deal with his own pants. You hear the clank of his belt hitting the car floor moments before you feel the head of his cock, running along your folds.

The head of his cock is thick, and it feels hot to the touch as he runs it along your slick. All of a sudden Logan pushes forward and sheathes himself inside of you with a single thrust.

You try your best to hold in your incoherent moans but to little avail as he pulls back before slamming full force back into you. If you were a human woman, your pelvis would’ve shattered from the force of his hips against your ass, instead you gather your strength and push back, allowing him deeper. The both of you moan in unison at the depth he reaches.

You grab onto the foam of the seat, ripping through the fabric with your bare hands desperate for an anchor as Logan unforgivingly pounds into you from behind, once again he folds his body over yours, wrapping a palm around your clawed fingers.

“.” He grunts something incoherent into your ear as he picks up the pace, slamming into you repeatedly, slowly picking up his pace. Your core is positively aching as you throb around him, pulling him deeper within you.  If you were expecting any further explanation, you’re sorely disappointed.

The wolverine pulls back, gripping at your hips keeping you still as he resumes his powerful strokes.  Logan’s hand dips to your clit, rubbing quick circles sending you barrelling back towards your orgasm. As you begin to clench around him, he pulls your body upwards, his head brushing against the top of the car as he holds you against him his fingers never leaving your clit.

“Come on my cock, Angel.” Unable to stop yourself you clench around him, hearing him talk like that does something primal to you.

You fucking loved Logan’s mouth, you bet he ate pussy like a champion if he played the clit this fucking well.

You stopped fighting it and threw yourself from the cliff, shattering in his thick muscle veined arms as he held you up against him, his cock still viciously plundering your depths.

“You’re so fucking tight.” He whispers against your neck whispers peppering it with bites.

Logan gives you a few moments to come down from your high before he resumes his punishing pace, you think perhaps you’ve reached your limit of pleasure, that the threshold can’t possibly be topped until he whispers into your ear in that gruff voice.

“What was it Wilson said? Filling all your holes?” The Wolverine asks, his eyes meet yours over your shoulder meaningfully, asking permission as he offers you his thumb. You merely moan your approval and wantonly draw his finger into your mouth, soaking the pad in saliva.  

Logan yanks your head into a vicious kiss. It’s a messy one, filled to the brim with need. The hand not currently locked on your neck holding your face to his, travels down your back, through the valley of your bodies. The pad of his pinky runs appreciatively over the globe of your ass, before his hand dips into the crease.

Logan’s thumb runs teasingly against the tight ring of muscle, it’s a foreign experience which makes you startle slightly.

“Anyone ever fucked you here?” He asks as he bites down your neck, delicately pushing you forward until your head rests on the backseat. You shake your head as your eyes close, his cock is buried balls deep within you as he plays with your asshole.

When his thumb finally breaches your tight hole just past the nail, he begins his thrusts once more. His cock fills your pussy from behind and suddenly you feel so fucking full, Its far too much for you.

“Fuck… Logan.” You gasp almost on the verge of tears as pounds you into the back seat. It seems the ass play has gotten to him more than expected, as his pace has increases.

“Where?” He asks breathless from the exertion as he pulls his thumbs from your ass and takes a handful of the meat on your hips.

“Inside…. Please … Logan.” You practically beg though you’ll never admit it, his rhythm becomes stunted as his hips slam into the back of your thighs.

“Give me something tight to come in, Darlin’.” Moaning at his words you’re eager to obey as you reach your hand between your own legs and rub mercilessly at your clit. The unforgiving pounding, the grunting and the fingers currently bruising your hips and the burning of your now vacant ass send you sailing over the edge.

You clamp down on him like a vice, groaning unable to hold back your whimpers anymore as he finally bites your neck and pumps his seed deep inside you as far as it can go. Logan grunts like a beast as he pulses deep inside of you.

Logan collapses beside you. Dents in the interior of the van you don’t even remember making have appeared from where a stray elbow or knee has hit the metal in the throes of passion.

The Wolverine tucks his cock back in his suit. Ever the gentleman, he uses your black panties to wipe away the cum dripping from your thighs, you haven’t got the heart to tell him that when you’re commando redressed in your suit that you can still feel him dripping from you, your pussy uncomfortably slick against the leather.

After dressing, the two of you sit in contemplative silence. Neither one of you has the emotional complexity to discuss what happened and neither one of you will accept fault for your argument that led to it, so, silence reigns.

The tension is sliced in two as Logan leans forward and pushes an errant lock of hair behind your ear in an act so goddamn endearing, you melt. You still wouldn’t apologise for lying, because you didn’t lie but you can meet him a quarter of the way.

“I’m sorry for calling you geriatric.” You whisper catching his eyes, a small spark of humour leaps into them, you’ve seen more emotions from your hero in the past half an hour than you knew he was capable of.

“I shouldn’t have-“ Logan’s heartfelt apology is cut off by the lead of this goddamn story.

“Well, well, well.  Would you look at this, My best friends, Ha! I get fucking kidnapped, an arm ripped off and you’re nowhere to be found? I thought don’t worry Wade, they won’t leave you, Y/N/N will come around that corner any second."

Wade has appeared through the passenger side window; he looks a little worse for wear and has a child’s arm growing from his stump, its kind of gross to look at.

"What if Colossus had had his way with me? What then Y/N? I expect this from Wolvie, but not from you! No, no heroic rescue for old Deadpool. I have to save myself because you fuckers are too busy playing hide the adamantium bone!  Thanks for nothing guys. Now the car has old man sex stank to it, as if this hunk of shit Honda could get any worse!”

[chadsuke]

Comics Read in 2023:

Mr. Bride Vol. 1 by Natsumi Shiba (2020)

Mr. Bride Vol. 2 by Natsumi Shiba (2020)

Mr. Bride Vol. 3 by Natsumi Shiba (2021)

Mr. Bride Vol. 4 by Natsumi Shiba (2021)

Shadows House Vol. 1 by Somato (2019)

Shadows House Vol. 2 by Somato (2019)

Otherworldly Izakaya Nobu Vol. 4 by Natsuya Semikawa & Virginia Nitouhei (2017)

Otherworldly Izakaya Nobu Vol. 5 by Natsuya Semikawa & Virginia Nitouhei (2017)

Otherworldly Izakaya Nobu Vol. 6 by Natsuya Semikawa & Virginia Nitouhei (2018)

[ID: Covers of the aforementioned books. End ID.]

[the-boy-meets-evil]

not according to plan | hjs

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well hello,” your best friend answers. 

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

“This is gonna be good,” he responds. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck that guy,” Jeonghan interjects.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I hate you,” Jeonghan snorts. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It works.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I…what?” you sputter out. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I try to be,” you agree. 

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

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

“Is he not?” Joshua wonders.

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

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

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

“Fine,” Joshua agrees. 

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

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

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

“Why that one?” you ask. 

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

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

“You look great,” Joshua assures you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?” you ask.

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

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

“Sometimes those are the best…” Joshua starts.

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

“You and him slept together?” Joshua questions.

“Is that weird for you?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

“Not finding the right people?” Joshua presses.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fair point,” Joshua concedes. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s so kind,” you whisper out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s a very long rule,” you note.

“Deserved, though,” Jeonghan says.

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

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

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

“Oh did he now?” 

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

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

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

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

“You said it,” you mumble.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That was fast,” Jeonghan comments.

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

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

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

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

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

“Who’s there?” Jeonghan asks. 

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

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

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

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

“Sorry, gotta go,” you say.

“Oh no, no, no,” Jeonghan tries.

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

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

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

“Jeonghan?” Joshua guesses.

“Unfortunately,” you confirm. 

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

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

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

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

“Yup,” Joshua says.

“Gonna tell me what it is?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s so sweet,” you say earnestly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“For what?” he asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, why?” he asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s not actually fine. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Definitely,” Joshua insists. 

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

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

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

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

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

“I wasn’t invited,” Mimi pouts. 

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

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

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

“Damn, okay. I’m in,” Mimi says. 

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

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

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

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

“Do you have it saved?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

“Ugh, I’m so single,” Mimi whines. 

“Maybe not after the wedding,” Hyejin teases. 

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

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

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

“Thank you,” you whisper back. 

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

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

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

“Try again, sweetheart,” you answer. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

None of that comes out, though. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They like you, too,” you assure him.

“What about you?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course,” you whisper.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he does, less than an hour later.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I hate you,” he says.

“I know,” you answer. 

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

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

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

Damn. Did you really walk right into that?

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

“Talk to me,” Jeonghan urges. 

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

“Joshua,” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

“Really dating him,” Jeonghan says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He’s just nice, Han,” you disagree.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now,” he says.

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it?” you wonder.

“A surprise,” he answers.

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

“You will,” he assures you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure,” you say and step aside. 

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

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

“Because we had plans,” he says. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do we?” you challenge. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” Joshua says tightly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” you whisper back.

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

“No,” is all you can manage.

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

“But,” you start to protest. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We were pretending,” you argue.

“I wasn’t,” he argues back.

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

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

“Well, no, but…” you start.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You can’t just say…” he starts.

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

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

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

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

“You look…” he starts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?” you ask, clearly confused.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure, you pick,” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No silly pet name?” you tease him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I need you,” you utter. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s that?” you ask.

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

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

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

“That drawer,” you say and point. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you okay?” he worries.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank fuck,” he mumbles. 

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

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

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

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

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

“You were pretty perfect yourself,” you say. 

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

“Don’t you dare,” you warn. 

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

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

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

He’s not. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck,” you nearly scream. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You feel so good,” you moan. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I need to talk to you,” he says.

“Why?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I come in?” he asks.

“No. What about Joshua?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nice dig,” he says. 

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

“What?” Johnny asks. 

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

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

“We’re done, Johnny,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, I’m good,” you say.

“You sure?” he asks.

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

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

“For what?” you ask.

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

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

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

“You make it easy,” you admit. 

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

“What?” he asks when you pull away.

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

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

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

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

[simpingforheros]

Jason’s Wife?!

Pairing: Jason Todd X Female! Reader

Summary: Meet Mrs. Todd?! Jason got eloped and he doesn’t intend on sharing his blushing bride just yet.

Warnings: SMUT, Fluff, Established Relationship, Eloping, Jason being an ass to his family (for good reason), Jason calling Reader Ma (can’t remember who wrote about that, please tag them because I love this headcanon), P in V, unprotected sex (don’t advertise for the unsafe sex, put some breading on yalls chicken before dumping it in oil) , Oral (m receiving), Body Worship, Phone/Facetime during the deed, Exhibition Kink, Mating Press, Slight Breeding Kink, Degradation, Praise, crying kink??,TOXIC-ish And POSSESSIVE! Jason Todd is back, Traumatizing Dick again.

Author’s Note: Thank you guys so much for the praise I got on my last Jason Todd Fanfic! I didn’t know you guys would like my first smut that much so I made a part 2. Enjoy your next fix you horny bastards (jk I love you guys )

AN: This is Part 2 to Jason’s Girl??, so go read that for some context. Also a quick shout out to the mutual who started my spiraling decent into his madness, @jjenthusee , who was the main inspiration because of their amazing artwork! Also I’m sorry this was late and I don’t update as often, I’m in my second semester in a health major and I’m stumped man. I’ll update when I can I promise.

A/N: Part 3>>> Jason Broke What??

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Jason Todd is a lot of things. He’s known for bad things and good things. It depends on who you ask.

A menace, a murderer, a zombie, an asshole, etc.

A son, a brother, a hero….

But there’s two things everyone can agree on.

1). He’s a good boyfriend.

For the last 6 months since Jason finally revealed his secret girlfriend of two years, the Bat Family learned just how much of a better person Jason was when (Y/N) was around.

His voice was softer and kinder to others. His temperament was more patient and his fists stayed loose. Her presence acting like a balm to sooth his soul as soon as he feels her comforting hand on his skin.

There were obvious moments of trouble, such as little squabbles or one gets snappy at the other, but normally they sort it out. Even if Bruce and the rest of the family didn’t know her for long, they knew that she had the backbone to handle Jason and give him what he needed without babying him.

Jason even shows his love for her in goofy ways, such as wearing matching shirts or color coordinated outfits. The two are now known for their Friday date nights and lazy Saturdays where they don’t wanna be disturbed. Their late night rides or their silent evenings where either a book or controller is in hand.

Red Hood is known for lingering around certain streets where she would be at when she had to work late, and he always had a bottle of water or granola bar he ‘mysteriously appeared’ out of thin air.

Jason was known for being proud of building the healthiest relationship he’s ever had with someone who didn’t fall in love with him because he was Bruce Wayne’s son, or Batman’s protege. She fell in love with Jason Peter Todd and all he was.

Which leads to the one thing that the family also knew him for.

2) Jason Todd would not tell anyone when he dropped down on one knee and asked (Y/N) to be his wife.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The proposal was a spontaneous to say the least.

Their usual Saturday routine of laying on the couch, too exhausted from the week to move. Jason laid on the opposite side as his beloved, her feet dangling off to the side of his hips as his own rested behind her shoulders. They both had a book in as they enjoyed their silence. The only noise coming from the soft patter of Frank coming over to lay on his adopted father.

The tabby cat that Jason claimed to not like despite the male cat clinging to him like glue. The cat jumped onto his stomach with a deep groan emitting from him. A soft giggle filled the room as she sets her book down and pulls the feline to her.

“I still don’t understand why my cat likes you more than me.” She comments as she strokes the tabby’s fur.

Jason scoffs as he carefully rolls off the couch and onto his feet. “Probably to spite me.”

He heads to the kitchen to grab them a drink as he hears one comment that seemed to change everything in one second.

“What’s gonna happen when we have a kid? Would you think they would prefer you over me or would we have another Frank?…”

The question was a hypothetical one, a normal one couples would ask just to make sound in the air. Jason would have probably answered light heartedly with a kiss or a smart ass comment to make her laugh, but it felt different. He felt different.

There wasn’t a ‘if’ in the question like it would or wouldn’t happen, but a definite of ‘when’ it would happen. Jason knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Hell, he managed to not fuck up a relationship he kept hidden for 2 years. He knew he wanted to marry her the moment he decided to open up and let her into his life by moving her in and introducing her to his family.

So, even if it was on an impulse, Jason returns back into the living room and as he placed their drinks on the coffee table as he kneels on the floor beside the couch. (Y/N) sits up as she smiles at him, unaware of the decision he made.

“Penny for your thoughts, Todd?” She asked playfully as she offers him an imaginary penny in between her pinched fingers.

Jason smiles as he takes her out stretched hand before kissing the back of it.

“Marry me.”

The seriousness in his eyes made her playful attitude dissolve to disbelief.

“What?…”

“I wanna marry you, (Y/N)…You are the everything I could ever want and don’t deserve. But I can’t imagine building a life like the one we have with anyone else. You are one of the few lights this dark world has and I wanna love and protect you for the rest of our lives.” Jason explains as he nervously massages her hand as his eyes shined with deep love and affection. “Even if I don’t have a ring yet and we are in our pajamas, will you accept me and let me become yours forever?”

Tears streamed down her face as she nods frantically. Her arms quickly wrapping around Jason’s neck and pulling him into a kiss.

Jason melts into her and begins to move to be on top of her on the couch until a sharp hiss makes him stop.

“Quiet, Frank…” Jason grumbles at the cat.

“Daddy is trying get some sugar from Mama~”

+++++++++++++++++

A week later, Alfred appeared extra peppy for the day. His duties were quickly done before the family was awake and his fidgeting gotten everyone concerned. Alfred was the normally level-headed gentle hand of the house, so seeing him so giddy made everyone nervous.

It wasn’t until he surprisingly left in one of his better suits and a gift bag that the rest of the Wayne Family just decided that he may be going to an event or some kind.

“Where do you think he’s going?” Tim asks his younger brother from behind a book.

Damian shrugs as he says, “How should I know?”

The answer wouldn’t come until later that evening. Alfred came back with both the brightest smile and red swollen eyes. In his hands were a single pale pink rose and a camera as he scurries to the study.

Tim, Dick, and Damian, who were scattered around the living room, followed out of curiosity. What’s gotten Alfred this way? An old flame? The thought of Alfred getting down and dirty made the boys shudder before they continue to the study and ultimately down to the Batcave.

“Yo, Alfred.” Dick calls out as he exits the elevator.

Alfred stood by the large chair over looking the Batcomputer as Bruce’s hulking form peaked over the leather. The clicking of the mouse playing in the background as Alfred turns his head to address Dick.

“Yes, Master Richard?” He says. In his hand was the camera with cables connecting it to the computer.

“Where have you been? You kinda left in a hurry…”

Tim jumps in as he says, “I mean, we aren’t trying to be rude, but you did seem kinda jumpy this morning.”

Damian’s words cut through the other two like ice as his eyes look at the monitor.

“Did Todd and his woman get married?”

Dick and Tim look back at Damian before their shocked expressions look up to the monitor. Their eyes widen in disbelief at the image before them.

Standing in a suit was a an absolutely beeming smile was Jason Todd with his hands interlocked with (Y/N), who was wearing a white dress. The dress didn’t look like the traditional floor length gown. Instead it was a backless chic dress with a bow on the back. Her hair was down and decorated with pearl ornaments as a matching ribbon choker was around her neck with a single aged pearl on it.

In their interlocked finders, a familiar set of rings shined . Martha Wayne’s sparkling diamond engagement ring and her wedding band was on (Y/N)’s finger as a matching wedding band was on Jason’s finger.

The surroundings didn’t look like a typical wedding venue with flowers and ribbons with a crowd of people. It was a courthouse, Gotham City Courthouse. On (Y/N)’s side stood Alfred holding a pale pink bouquet that was most likely the bride’s. What surprised them the most was a smiling Bruce on Jason’s side, a look of pride on his face that he rarely shown.

The boys break out of their shell as Dick complains.

“This can’t be real… Jason and (Y/N) got married without telling any of us….AND YOU LET JASON HAVE MARTHA’S RING!!” Dick snaps as his irritation grew. “You said I was gonna have it.”

Bruce sighs as he says, “I said that before you cheated on both of your girlfriends with each other.”

Alfred chuckles as he says, “And Master Jason specifically stated that he only wanted me and Master Bruce there.”

Tim frowns as he asks, “Why weren’t we invited?”

Alfred gives the boy a sympathetic look before reciting, “Miss (Y/N) and Jason only wanted a small ceremony and off what he said, ‘Damian makes (Y/N) uncomfortable when he calls her Jason’s woman and a distraction. Dick is plain out not invited because of reasons he knows why. And Tim can’t keep his mouth shut to save his life, so he’s not invited.’”

Damian tsks as he says, “I wouldn’t have wanted to go anyways.”

Dick was flustered as the images of the incident Alfred was referring to. He still can’t get her moans out of his head…

Tim pouts and says, “I’m gonna remember this…But why was Bruce invited then?”

Bruce responds with a smirk , “Because I was asked to give away the bride.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

As soon as the newly weds returned their apartment, the lust sprinkled down like hale. Her well manicured hair was now messy as his hands held her head. His mouth devouring her moans as her own lips kept up with his pace.

Her fingers desperately removing his tie as the shrilling ring of Jason’s cell phone fills the air. He ignores it in favor of trailing tongue against his bride’s as she slings off the tie.

“Gonna answer that?” She mumbles as his mouth begins to trail down her jawline. Jason doesn’t answer as his hands scoop up under her thighs to pick her up. Her giggles were music in his ears as he says,

“It’s probably just Tim or Dick. Probably bitching about the wedding…”

Jason carries his wife through the threshold of their apartment hallway as his lips remained on hers. Their vows sealed in teeth and tongues as he expertly guided them into the bedroom.

His phone finally stopped ringing as he places her on the bed. Hands groping and pulling off of clothing as he unwraps her down to her underwear and stockings. His mouth hot against her breast as she pushes his now unbuttoned shirt down his shoulders.

His other hand dipping into her underwear as he flicks her erected nipples like a guitar. Her sweet music filling the room as he’s met with a creamy cunt under her white thong.

“Fuccck, ma..” He moans against her breast. Jason pulls away with a devilish smirk as he runs his finger over her sopping folds, carefully avoiding her hole and clit. “I can’t tell what I like more…your pretty tits or your sloppy cunt…”

(Y/N) feels the wave of shameful arousal fill her stomach as she whines out, “Stop teasing me, baby. It’s our wedding day and you’re acting like a jackass…”

Her body jolts as he pinches her clit. Her hips jerking as she moans at the sensation. Jason had a look of faux sympathy before mumbling against the valley of her breasts.

“Oh, you’re right…” His voice barely audible to her as he begins to rub heart shaped patterns on her clit, making sure to dip down to her gasping pussy as he dips down. “I’m not acting like a good husband, ain’t I? Let me make it up to you, Mrs. Todd.”

His lips attached to her unabused nipple before his middle finger finally dips into her pulsing hole. His groan accentuated by the scraping of his teeth against her sensitive flesh. The feeling of her cunt sucking his one finger in making him light headed as her moans ringed out.

“Jason…stop teasing me…I want you…” She begs as her hips try to meet the thrust of his finger. He growls at her bossiness before yanking his finger out of her pulling her panties down her thighs.

Her eyes glared at him for the loss of stimulation before he quickly pops her pussy lightly. The wet slap of skin making her cringe in embarrassment before Jason begins to leave a trail of open kisses and bites down her body. Making sure to pay special attention to the matching tattoo on her hip before he mumbles to her with a lazy smile.

“Your wish is my command.”

Before he could dig into his meal, the shrill ring of his phone invades the space. He yanks his phone out of his pocket and looks at the screen before declining the call. He tosses the phone onto the bed as he glares at the offending device.

“Stupid Dick..” He groans before a soft hand on his face draws him back to her. Her gentle touch bringing peace to his mind as she pulls him up to press a soft peck to his lips.

His mind goes blank as she gently lures him to stand before she kneels down, trailing kisses down his exposed chest and his scars. Her love poured into his body as her lips traced his autopsy scars. Her eyes shining so pretty as she presses an extra long kiss to his matching tattoo on his Adonis belt.

The silent vow that was made a year and a half into dating on a drunk night out with Roy.

‘I am hers and she is mine’

“Let me be a good wife to you, Mr. Todd.” She whispers against his skin. Her breath like hot fire before her hands snake off his belt and trousers. Her mischievous eyes gleaming in lustful delight as Jason’s lip curls in between his teeth. His eyes almost glowing as she presses her warm lips against his clothed tip. His hand fisting into her hair as he hisses at her.

“Don’t you fucking tease me…”

*RING* *RING*

Jason glares at the phone before he snatches it up. He sees the familiar notification as his own image shown on the phone. FaceTime.

“Answer it.”

“What?” Jason asks in confusion before looking down to her. His surprise was suppressed with a hiss as she pulls his hard cock out of his underwear. Her hand lazyily stroking him as she gives him a look of faux innocence.

“Answer it. It’s rude to ignore family..”

Jason feels a smirk curled onto his face as he realizes what she wanted. His dick hardened to iron as he remembers why he fell for her.

She was just as fucked as he was.

With that, Jason schools his face as he answers the phone with an annoyed expression.

“What?” He says as the image of his brother appears on his phone screen.

Dick glares at Jason before snapping at him. “You got fucking married?! Without inviting any of us?!”

“Didn’t Alfred tell you why we didn’t want you guys there?” Jason asked in as much annoyance as he can muster as he felt the wet pull of lips around his cock.

His hand gripping her hair kept her from getting more than his tip in as he hides his reaction. Her tongue licking his tip like a kitten wanting milk.

“But we are family for fucks sake.”

Jason’s actual annoyance getting the best of him as he hisses,

“I’m sorry, but I recall you trying to fuck my wife.”

“THAT WAS BEFORE I KNEW YOU WERE DATING HER!!”

Jason becomes distracted as (Y/N) starts sucking him off. Her drool and his precum slowly beginning to coat her mouth and hand as it strokes what she can’t fit into her pretty mouth.

His brow furrowed as his pleasure and annoyance started to mix on his face. Jason decides to get some payback on both his wife and brother as he slyly mentions.

“Oh but you had no problem rubbing one out when I sent those videos.”

He pulls her closer to his pelvis to muffle her surprised moan. If he wasn’t on the phone, he would degrade her like a slut with how she acts when she remembers being recorded. Her cheeks hollow as Dick’s jaw drops as Jason mentions the videos.

“I-I..”

“Admit it.” Jason says, his voice grew more taunting. “You probably still jack off to the videos because you’re nothing but a loser who cheats on any good woman he gets because you’re scared of attaching to someone.”

Jason can feel her eagerness grow as she sucks harder, actually pulling him as deep into her throat as she can. He almost wanted to both laugh at how cute she was as she gagged around him and coo at how proud he was of her. Her jaw was gonna be hurting like a bitch either way.

Dick’s baffled expression almost made it better as his eyes shined with shame over what Jason knew to be true.

“That’s why Bruce gave me Martha’s ring.” Jason says as he forces (Y/N) to take him all the way down her throat. Her nose pressing into his light patch of black hair as Jason says. “fuck…I can fuck (Y/N) like I fucking hate her guts and she would take it because she knows I would rather swallow glass than fuck anyone else like I do her. To even love anyone halfway as I do her would be a sin…”

The fluttering feeling of her throat as her nails digged into his thigh affirming his conviction.

“I’m not afraid to get attached… As long as she lives, I’ll never let her go…”

He hangs up before Dick can respond as he yanks her back by her hair. Her coughing and gasping for air as she whine painfully at both the lost of his cock in her mouth and the painful grip on her scalp.

Jason releases her hair before kneeling beside her on the floor. His expression tender as he cups her face. Her light makeup look from the wedding was now smudged off with her mascara flowing down her face with her tears. Her lips puffy and wet from his assault on her mouth. Her body littered in forming bruises from his teeth. Her cunt sloppy and leaking a clear sheen down her thighs. Her cheek leaning into his palm as her eyes shined at him with nothing but love and desire.

“Fuck…” He groans before crawling inbetween her legs as he pushes her to lay down on the floor. His mouth back on hers as his throbbing erection lightly dragged against her fluttering pussy. The head catching her clit despite the watery resistance as she whimpers into his mouth.

“You look so pretty like this…” Jason says before sticking his tongue down her throats. Their tongues tangling for a moment before his hands cup her face and pull her away. “You feel it, don’t you?”

She whines as his hips rolled against hers. Her cunt angry as it fluttered around nothing. His nearly red dick twitching as it desires salvation in her temple as Jason breathlessly whimpers.

“Feel how bad I need you baby? Fuck I can’t stand it. I wanna fuck you every day so I can see you look like this.” He says as he wraps his hand his member. He slaps her pussy with it twice before dragging his head over her entrance, the heavy appendage dipping in slightly as he says.

“I wanna ruin you so good. You’re such a good pretty girl that I want to ruin and make as fucked up as me…”

Her gasps fill the room as he starts to bully his tip into her. Even though they were both well experienced with each other, every time she takes him feels like the first time with that delicious stretch.

His unusually talkative mood doesn’t let up as he pushes his hips into her, forcing her to take him.

“You’re so gorgeous…” He whispers as he pulls her legs over his shoulders as he grasps her hips, forcing them up as he starts to fill her to the hilt. “God, this pussy is unbelievable…gonna fill her up everyday and eat her out every night…”

His thrusts start off slow but hard as her hands desperately held onto what bit of Jason she could as he fucked her like a doll. Her whimpers and moans filling the air as the sticky sound of his balls smacking her ass.

His hot breath tickles her ears as his hips develop the torturous pattern of pistoling into her like a hard buck before rolling in a deep and filling thrust. Her eyes filling with tears and brain fog as he filled her lust sick brain with praise.

“Such a good little wife…a sweet little thing with a nice soft body for me…” He groans as his pace becomes brutal. His precision and memory impeccably beats anything he learned as a vigilante as he assaults her G-spot. Her eyes rolling back as lighting strikes her the brain as she begins to cry.

“Fuck. Fuck. fuck…” she sobs incoherently as Jason licks the tears off her face.

“You look so hot when your cry…” Jason moans as his thrusts start to become more sloppy. His reaches between them as he rubs tight circles on her clit as he thrusts harder into her soft cunt.

“Will you cry some more please?” He’s asked in a cruel tone. His eyes blown out with desire as he lets his full weight pin her down under him. His added weight making her pinned as she cries. Her stomach tightening at the overwhelming presence of him and his cock destroying her insides.

“I’m gonna fuck a baby into you, Ma…” He says as his own whimpers fall through. “Gonna watch you get swollen and carry a little perfect baby and know that you’re mine…that no one can love you like me… ain’t that right?”

Her impending orgasm blocking off all rational thoughts as her mouth hangs open. His hand pulls from her clit to her frustration and grabs a hold of her jaw. Forcing her to look at him as he says harshly.

“Who do you belong to ,Pretty Girl?”

Her eyes widen as she says, “You…I belong to you baby…”

Jason smirks as he starts thrusting faster. Her shrieks just music in his ears as she falls off the edge. Her vision clouded as white flashes in her vision. Her body nearly convulsing as her cunt squeezes Jason into his own orgasm. His warm seed flooding her quivering womb as he presses a kiss into her neck.

The pair remained still for a moment as they gasped for air. The natural chill of the room causing them to tremble at the stimulation. Her small hand moving first as she grabs his hand, her fingers playing with the gold band on his finger as she whispers.

“My husband…” A soft satisfied smile on her lips as Jason grins widely into her neck as he mumbles.

“All yours, Mrs. Todd.”

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AN: Yea I didn’t know how to end this. 😭 I hope you guys like it because I’m not too sure if the smut is good or not. Let me know what you think as I’m trying to clear out the drafts. Again, Thank you @jjenthusee for inspiring these two fanfics and for being a great mutual.

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@simpingforheros fanfic. I DO NOT CONDONE THE THEFT, COPYING, REPOSTING, AND PLAGIARISM OF MY WORK ON THIS SITE OR OTHER SITES WITHOUT CREDIT OR PERMISSION.

[moonlesslights]

Two Idiots in Love

Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Warnings: Sex, P in V, choking, breeding kink, innuendos, Miguel it's fucking hard to talk to.

A/N: Hope you enjoy this, I haven't sleep well for three days trying to get it done, but it's finally here. Love y'all xoxox

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Ok, but what about you becoming an Spider just about a year ago?

You are managing just fine.

Things got nasty for a while, that’s true. Your uncle died, your new responsibilities caught up on you, you almost die fighting some bad guys on your first months… And now you just try to eat three times a day (sometimes it doesn’t happen), pray to get more than six hours of sleep and do good in college.

But then, out of fucking nowhere, just when you were making peace with what your life was now and who you are, your identity, your place in this big ass world where you were completely alone to bear this double life… This giant prick with sullen face and cheeks the size of the moon comes into your life to tell you you’re not alone, everyone here has experienced the same or worse, stop being so dramatic.

So, in a second, your protagonist moment turns to you finding out there were thousands like you out there. And your whole life goes upside down.

Because now you don’t have to protect and look out only for your Earth, your city; but everyone else’s too. You have to travel to the most craziest worlds you could’ve ever imagine and fight horrible creatures you couldn’t even conceive its existence. And to make things even worst, Mr. Wide Hindquarters took an special hold of you to help him out with anything he would be ‘to busy’ to do. Like inform new recruits about their missions, filling out reports, doing research either respecting to what he occupied in the laboratory or to some universe yet to be explored… Whatever he needed, you would be called in to do it.

Some Spiders told you you were lucky, not many could work that close to Miguel, let alone being in charge of so many things without screwing something up and getting ‘their head ripped’. Even Lyla tells you that you’re something special, specially on the hard days, that’s why Miguel trusts you so much. After that you would just smile tiredly at her, whispering it was okay. Then Lyla would go face Miguel and demand him with a raised eyebrow to give you a break.

You manage for a few months, surrendering yourself to this strange routine. And your even more strange companion.

Every day you walk in to his space, every day he is already there. You turn a personal mission to arrive before he does. You never make it. The man apparently didn’t sleep and you aren’t waking the fuck up at 3:00am to prove a point or find out. So you let it be as another mystery to be solved.

“Good morning.” You wave your hand at him, making your presence known with that. Sometimes between a yawn, sometimes still cleaning the sleepiness off of your eyes.

“Good morning…” He always adds your last name to his greetings. It makes you feel like you are being scolded. Most of the time he is at the tables, working through the screens; if he’s not there, he’s at the lab, measuring substances with the help of crystal clear instruments.

Without looking at you, he points with his chin to the steaming coffee under the express machine. Through the weeks he has learned exactly how you like it. The first ones he made you were exactly like his: Awful. That couldn’t be drinkable. But you thought it was nice of him to always have hot coffee for you, so you didn’t say anything. But the faces you made at every sip were worth a thousand words.

Now, as you drink today’s, you cannot avoid thinking how cute that big stoic man must look every morning pouring the exact amount of sugar and cream you like into the cup. Moving the liquid with a tiny spoon until is all mixed.

He doesn’t talk much.

No more than orders and “Go home” followed by a “Good night”. You let him be for the first weeks. Not your business. But after the first month you knew you would go crazy if you continued this way of living.

You needed to talk to him. You needed to make things less awkward. He was your only human contact sometimes for entire days, and you cannot stand the fact of barely talking to him.

You don’t have idea how does the term “coworkers” serves on his Earth, but in yours, Human Relationships are encouraged to happen for the sake of teamwork.

With that very idea well tangled on your mind, one of those long days, you take a deep breath, imagine him naked (which isn’t difficult to be honest), stare deep into the space and say:

“Sohowhaveyoubeen?” Squeaking as fast as you can.

Miguel stops whatever the hell he is doing and turns his head to the right, side eyeing you with a raised eyebrow. You don’t even look at him, continuing to fill the document in front of you with the most unstable smile he could have seen in his entire life. Then, he turns around again, coming back to typing into one of the screens. You almost think he has completely ignored you until he answers in another fast and neutral line:

“I’m good.”

You give him an acknowledging nod, smiling softly and returning to your duties.

You had never wished so much to be victim of a lost bullet. Like right now. Like right fucking now. Please.

For one more week you took another personal mission: making a question a day.

“How was your day?”, “Did you have breakfast?”, “How was yesterday’s mission?”… It would be a good day if you got more than a monosyllable for answer. It was embarrassing, really. And Lyla looking at you with a grimace made it ten times worst.

After that, you just came in the eighth day and remained silent, focused in finishing all your work as soon as possible rather than trying to make your prick boss to talk to you. You felt bad, actually. Maybe he just doesn't like to talk, maybe you were making him uncomfortable, maybe... Maybe he's just an arse. Yeah, that is probably the right...

"Hm? Uh, what... What is this?" You look up from your tablet, facing the broad of his back walking to the desk at the other side of the room. You raise an eyebrow at the small cardboard box in front of you, the one that Miguel just left there.

"Food." He says as answering the very question to the origin of the universe.

"For me?" You tilt your head and he looks at you like you were stupid. You frown. How were you supposed to know that, when he barely even looks at you?!

"I did too much." He explains. "... So I brought you some. You can throw it away if you don't want it."

You look down at the box again, watching it as the weirdest of things, and cannot help the little smile that creeps up to your lips. You knew Miguel didn't eat at the HQ cafeteria, since he owns an apartment close from here, so this was completely homemade. Hm, you never thought he was into cooking.

"Why can't I give it to someone else if I don't like it?" You respond with an easy smile, almost teasing him.

"Throw it." He sentences without even looking back at you.

You side eye Lyla at your left, who winks at you. This is a whole ass victory. And you and the little hologram girl knew internally Miguel did not like the day you decided to stop trying to talk to him.

"Thank you." You finally murmur. "I really appreciate it."

"It's just leftovers..."

You nod, pursing your lips and… Still smiling. Fuck it. It was obvious he was going to dismiss it with something like that.

None of you says anything else for the rest of the day, but you make the choice to keep trying on the small talk every day and Miguel, apparently, started to mess up the amount of ingredients for his meals and brings leftovers almost daily.

You continue with this new routine for another couple of weeks.

With the time passing, you gain more and more confidence to talk to the big guy. Most of the times he doesn’t engage in the conversation, it is just you saying your thoughts out loud and telling him everything about your life at college, 'till the point he has a personal beef with some of your classmates. I mean, he doesn’t say it but he surely grunts under his breath every time you mention their name.

Gwen did asked you at some point if he really listened to you or if he just... Left you. You wondered the same for exactly... two hours.

"... And I handed him my essay, right? And he looks at me and says: 'So are you going to tell me who is helping you with these or am I going to find out myself?' So I obviously told him nobody was helping me, I just like doing them. And he freaking threatened me saying that if he founds out he's going to fail me. Like... He doesn't even listens. Agh, he hates me..."

"Is the same one who got angry because you were late to his lecture about himself and his recently published book?" That was a week ago. And he remembered.

You nod, sighing. Miguel clicks his tongue, shaking his head with disapproval.

He might not be talkative (at least for now) but he listens to you. You have no doubt left about that. He may not say a single word while you drop a hundred for minute, but he would come the next day asking "How was the test?" or would know you have classes with that professor and add to his daily good night a soft "Good luck tomorrow." You even start catching him lifting the left corner of his lips when you drop a bad joke about all the things you need to get done by the end of the day or about something you heard on your way there.

You noticed it when certain Spider came in to a meeting, a Spider two days ago you and Miguel had gossiped about because you were told something by your friends on Wednesday, Miguel heard some more on Thursday and with a final comment you put the pieces together on Friday, looking at him with a wide proud open mouth as he shook his head with a soft chuckle. Talking to the Spider in question Miguel would turn to you with the most neutral and blank expression and you would still fight to hide your smile at the memory of everything you found out during the week. No one ever noticed and you liked it. Miguel liked it. It was like a private joke only the two of you could share.

"But what would happen?" This was the part Miguel didn't like. "Like, how would you know I would fuck up something?"

"You cannot give Noir a kaleidoscope." He sentences, giving you another raised eyebrow.

You were in the middle of the daily session of Instructive and Informative questions, according to Lyla and you. Miguel prefers to call them Destructive and Irritating.

After today's mission you had taken a particular soft spot fo the black and white Spider, to the misfortune of your boss. So the whole session has been about the long shot of taking special gifts from your dimension to him.

"But why? Really, what's the worst that could happen if I just give him a tiny little kaleidoscope?"

"Ay, Dios, dame paciencia... You already gave him a rainbow slinky spring toy, why do you keep insisting on gifting him more stuff?"

He fix his gaze on you as you lower your eyes down to your lap, fidgeting with your fingers. "... He just looks happy when he sees color."

Miguel sighs, pressing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger.

"I know, but every one of us needs to respect the natural order of our Earth. He shouldn't keep taking things with him that shouldn't be there, do you understand?"

"But..."

"No more 'but's'. I want those reports done by the end of the day." Miguel returns his eyes back to the screen in front of him, dismissing you just with that action. "Get to work instead of keep losing our time with this."

He hates the way you comply to his orders. Hates the way you leave the space beside him empty to go working at the other side of the room, where he can only see your back. He hates when you refuse him to see your face.

The human part in him hates the questioning sessions because they always end up with your heart too big for your own good, crushed a little bit more. The human part in him is what brings him closer to you after a few minutes, talking you through some trivial topics until he can convince you it is all not as bad a it seems, until you smile again when you insist it's okay, that you just needed a minute, that you understand. And he might o might not tell you can give Noir that fucking kaleidoscope if you want it so much.

But some deep and primal part in him whispers into his veins to walk up to you, take you by your jaw, forcing you to look up at him and order you you better not refuse your face to him one more single time again. That if he wishes to see your eyes, the curve of your nose or your lips, you better fucking show them to him... Every day. Every. Time. He. Wants. To.

He gets frustrated when he catches himself in the middle of those thoughts, of the drives. He has been able to control it magnificently 'till now. But he fears the day he won't.

For another while you enjoyed the 'leftovers' brought to you too. But it also came to happen the one day, they stopped being leftovers:

You yawn as you make your way to the exit of the lab, making sure your alarm for tomorrow is correctly scheduled, you can not afford another harsh look from your professors one more time. The building has fallen silent already; most of its ordinary inhabitants have already retired to their rooms or to their home worlds.

Miguel walks up to you from behind, watching you standing at the door. Neither of them managed to see even a ray of sun today. He didn't care, he had something much better to watch all day… But he can't help but sigh at the thought of taking it from you.

"Italian or Mexican?" You turn to look at him, barely catching what he said. Both of your brows furrow and he glares at you while adjusting the neck of his jacket on. "For tomorrow's lunch. You want me to bring Italian or Mexican?"

"Oh, uhm..." You widen your eyes, surprised by the consideration. Pursing your lips and squinting, you think about it for a second, but the only possible answer comes immediately after: "Mexican."

"Hm." He nods, fixing his eyes to the front again.

Both start walking now towards the exit of the building. You know you can open your portal to go back home now, but you refuse to do so. Miguel knows there's an exit on the other side of the lab that leads him to a closer path to his apartment, but he refuses to take it. Because you always take this one.

"It's getting chilly." You whisper, watching the first snowflakes of the season falling on the other side of the big windows in the lobby. Miguel hums in response. "I like it, though. The first month working with you I had to carry a fan with me everywhere. I am so sorry for the cost of the electricity bill back then."

Miguel tugs at one corner of his lips, but only that. You tilt your head, glaring at him for a second before you take two fast steps to put yourself in front of him. The poor man has to stick his feet to the floor to avoid knocking over you.

He frowns, confused, and you look up at him with those same eyes filled with determination you put on when you look at the cookies he always -purposely- leaves on top of the highest cupboard in his office. He could only describe it as the face of a master plan, because you would always come back with ideas to get them down without asking him for help. And he loved to play guess with what you would do this time.

"Smile for me." You ask as you were some kind of cameraman, and if he was confused before he's into a new level now.

"What?"

"Y'know..." You bring both of your index fingers to the opposite sides of your face and part your own lips into a simple smile, like showing him what he was supposed to do.

"I know what smiling is." He frowns. "Why do you want me to do it?"

You shrug. "I just... I would be really happy to see it."

Miguel's expression remains unfazed, but he prays to every God out there you can't listen how hard his heart jumped inside his chest when your words reached him.

He swallows. His eyes fix on you and he brings both of the corners of his mouth up, exposing bright teeth and two big fangs that brush on his lower lip in the most precious awkward smile you could have ever seen. His brows are drawn together and he looks like he's in pain, and you know that even if a fucking meteor crashed down in the city right now, you still wouldn't be able to look away.

You clear your throat and lament how his smile is gone as soon as it came. You brush your hand at the back at your neck, nervous, fucking ashamed of your imprudence. Miguel raises an eyebrow at your reaction.

"Thank you. That was nice of you." You smile, avoiding his eyes and solely focusing on the snow awaiting for you. "I'm sorry if it was unpleasant for you. I didn't mean..."

Your words get caught up in your throat when you suddenly feel the texture of fabric coming around your neck. You turn back to look at the front again only to find Miguel tugging his scarf on you, with his fingers making sure it hugged every part of your skin your sweater couldn't.

"Miguel, no. It's even colder here than on my Earth. You need this more than I do." You frown with a worried expression washing over your features.

"You'll come back tomorrow pretty early. And it's going to be cold." You could try and argue about you having your own scarfs to bring tomorrow with you, but his eyes tell you he is not asking.

"... Thank you."

Miguel laments the moment your turn around, laments the moment you don't look at him anymore. He is sure the smile from a minute ago hadn't been anywhere near one of his best, and yet your eyes shone with the light of all the moons he's seen in all of the Earths he has visited.

And as you do a little wave when you start walking away before entering your portal, Miguel waves back, slowly and with only two unsure swings of his wrist. It was enough to make you smile anyway. It was enough to keep him standing there even after you were long gone wondering what the hell he was doing.

When Miguel began to bring food made specially to share, you began to bring desserts from your Earth for him to try.

You both started having lunch together after you told him how tired you were of eating while standing. Don't get me wrong, when you first told him he 'offered' you to go eat at the cafeteria if you wanted it so much. But when he dismisses you for the second time the next day with a 15 minute break to go find somewhere to sit, you, instead, sit down reluctantly at the very center of his work space, just a few meters behind him.

Miguel has to do a fucking double take to make sure he is seeing right before turning around at you calmly crossing your legs on the floor and unboxing today's meal with abrupt and resigned movements.

"Could you be so kind as to explain to me what you are doing?" He tilts his head with amusement when you take the first bite of your food.

"Eating."

"Sitting on the floor?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Sitting on the floor." You nod.

"Care to explain why?" He crosses his arms, pursing his lips when you refuse to raise your eyes at him.

"... Because of you." You murmur, taking another unnecessarily aggressive bite.

"Elaborate, please."

You keep on looking down, chewing the morsel in your mouth. Miguel awaits for you with well known experienced patience. By now, he recognizes when you are mad at him or the world, he sees how you fight to keep calm inside of all of this mess, that's why he always tries to encourage you to talk out the things that bother you, because he's there, he can listen; because he likes the way you smile after you let it all out.

And maybe...

"I don't care about eat sitting comfortably at the cafeteria. I want to eat with you. So if you want to stay here be my fucking guest. I'm staying here too."

Because you were the only one who could throw a tantrum at Miguel O'Hara without flinching.

You have earned that right. You didn't know when, because you insist you don't throw tantrums at him; you're a college student, basically an adult, you don't do tantrums. And still...

"Fine, spoiled girl..." He sighs, walking to get his own little box from the table and then coming to close the space between the two with a few long steps. He sits down right beside you, imitating the way you're crossing your legs. "If you want to eat on the floor, we can eat on the floor."

"I'm not spoiled." You hiss, giving him a deadly side eye that puts on a soft, almost unnoticeable grin on his face. Lyla had made fun of him a few days ago about him spoiling you, but instead of getting on his nerves he took a liking for the nickname. And now you suffer the consequences of it all. "And we wouldn't be eating on the floor if you decided to go to the cafeteria for once."

"... I hate talking to people."

You sigh, nodding. That's exactly why you never push him to do anything of that sort.

"I know." You turn to look at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing how he keeps his head low while eating. "Hey" You call for his attention, smiling. He blinks up to you, tilting his head. "It's okay." Your shoulder drops to his arm. "I like being here. I'm not stuck with you, you're stuck with me."

That makes his eyes catch a little bit more of light.

"Thank you." He whispers.

You stare at him for a second more and he fights to put all of the mess inside his head, his feelings, into his tongue... But he can't. You continue eating, and he knows you would never hold a grudge on him for it, and he's so thankful for that, for you being able to understand the way his actions speak when his words can't. But he still aches at the thought of never being able to tell you everything he wants.

The next morning you walk in to find out a new cleared space beside the screens with an elegant glass table and two chairs. It surely looked expensive, like everything he does and has, but for you, it's just the little corner where you can leave that particular cake from your Earth he seems to like so much, and then go to the laboratory to see the cake you seemed to like so much.

After two more weeks enjoying the day-to-day in the usual things in your life, you and Miguel got to a mission which revealed as the true calmness before the storm.

The anomaly you had fought was stronger than expected, more aggressive, more letal. Everyone had run lucky at least two times to escape from its claws, but you can still remember their closeness, the screams, the sirens at the distance. It all almost ends up with another canonic event altered.

"There's always a first time." Jessica had told you when you finally finished off the anomaly. She was worried about you, and you can't blame her. You haven't even registered how bad you were trembling until it was all over.

"Is there going to be a last time?" You replied, looking up at her with big eyes. And Miguel, only a few meters behind you, still trying to give some last orders to every Spider there, felt his heart breaking at the very sound of your words.

Nevertheless, thankfully, the universe remained perfectly fine and just a couple of hours later everyone was back home safely again. Most returned immediately to their Home Earths, but you, Miguel, Jessica, Lyla and a couple more had ten thousand things to do in the HQ before calling it a day.

"I thought I told you to go home an hour ago." Miguel points, coming from behind you.

You turn your head to look up at him and you can't not smile at the sight. The feeling of safeness that floods you when you see his huge figure entering any room hasn't wavered for a single second. He's still that solid ground you can always rest on when the world is to heavy to carry alone.

"I'm serious. What are you doing here?" He continues, grunting in pain when he drops his weight beside you. You turn to him, furrowing your brows in worry again. He had seen that expression in you so often today... And he hates it so much. "I'm okay. Just little scratches here and there."

You withdrawn your feet from the edge of the building where you had them hanging for an hour now and crawl your way to him, sitting down on your knees to try to be eye height with him.

Your right hand wanders to his bruised neck, there where the anomaly had left his horrible mark of the violence it brought within. You follow with your index the way the clotted blood draws on his skin, sending shivers down his spine.

"Does it hurt?" You ask.

"No." He responds in between goosebumps.

He loves the effect your touch has on him. He loves your little hands looking for him, tugging at his clothes to call for his attention, brushing against his when you pass him the tablet, documents, anything. He loves the busy days where he doesn't have time to eat, where he wouldn't eat if it wasn't for you sitting beside him as he works on the screens, you scrolling through your cellphone, taking little pieces of food with a spoon or a fork to bring them closer to his mouth so he could eat without even taking his eyes off the screen.

Ridiculous? Yeah. But he loved the intimacy within. The many forms your soft hands could soothe him.

But his? He hated them. He was scared of them. Their only use was to destruct, to tear flesh apart, not to...

"Show me." He asks, pointing with his chin at your left hand placed softly above your thigh.

"It's nothing."

"Let me see it." He insist and you carefully bring your arm up, placing your fingers against his when he holds out his hand for you. Your whole palm is bandaged, the work the doctor did on you was amazing, but he can still see dried blood on it.

He doesn't say anything when he finds your eyes on him, conflicted, hesitant. There is so much between both of you, so much unsaid, so much still to do. But he sees your doubt, he hates to be the cause of it. He stays still, but he wants to scream at you, to make your little head understand: "How can't you see?! Can't you see how much you mean to me?! You're the only thing in my mind when I'm fighting, because I know I have to win, I have to get out alive to see you again. Eres lo único por lo que mi corazón llama!... Can't you not hear it?"

Instead, the tips of his fingers brush on your skin, his eyes reflecting every single light of the city below.

"Come." It's only a whisper that leaves his mouth, and you need nothing more to jump into his embrace with a desperate sigh, immediately cuddling yourself up on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, looking for his warm.

Hold.

He loves to hold you.

His hands serve to hold you.

To hold you against him, to protect you from anyone who wants to rip you away from his arms. To keep you warm, to keep you safe, to let you know you're home.

"Aquí estoy." He whispers.

"I know." You reply.

You breath into his scent for a couple of minutes more, until the screams and the sirens fell low to the sound of Miguel's chest going up and down in a soothing swing, his breathing, turning into the only thing you could listen to.

By the time you got your head out of his neck, he was already waiting for you with a soft smile, smile that puts your attention on the deep cut on his lower lip.

"What happened?" You ask, carefully pulling from his flesh to see the whole extension of the wound.

He sighs, closing his eyes with embarrassment. "I bit myself during the fight."

You smile, shaking your head. Your fingernail taps against the right fang in question, testing the edge by gently pressing the tip into your fingertip.

"I hate them." Miguel breaths out. His eyes are now so dim that you struggle to say where are they looking at in the middle of the night darkness.

"Why?" You whisper, taking your finger back at his lip.

"Because I fear of them. I fear they'll hurt you like they hurt me."

You purse your lips and then take his hand placed on your hip, looking back at him with raised eyebrows.

"Is the same with these?"

He nods.

"They are made to kill. I have done so many horrible things with, caused so much damage and pain, I..."

"Did you know I'm scared of heights?" His trail of words stop at your interruption. You smile, looking down from the edge, turning away form him just a little. "Ironic, for a Spider. But I still fight with it every single day. I always get so sticky when I'm on top of a building for too long it's embarrassing but..." You raise your hand in front of him, waving your fingers with a playful smile. "I'm not sticky now. And that it's because you're holding me." You cup his face. "Those things you're afraid of, are part of the person I love. And I wouldn't change a single thing."

"Mi cielo..."

"I knew what I was getting into when I decided to love you, Miguel, so don't get all soft now. I'm not going anywhere..." You whisper. "Make me bleed."

He would be lying if he said he haven't thought about it, that he haven't succumbed to his most animalistic urges when alone in the privacy of his room, pretending it was you around his cock and not his fist. He wanted to bite, he wanted to fill you. And he wanted to tear apart with his bare talons anyone and anything that got in his way.

A part of him might be scared to hurt you, yes.

But a bigger part of him was actually scared of what he would do to keep you safe. Of what he's capable of... to keep you his.

He feels sorry for you when you cuddle against his chest in your sleep as he stands up and starts walking back inside the building, covering you with his jacket to protect from the cold wind of the city for when he swings back to his apartment with you in his arms.

He feels sorry for the innocence in your love.

Like a beast, that's what he was. A beast who loved the softness in your touch, the kind in your words. But cannot return the same love. The beast is possessive, jealous of the very air that caresses your hair. And it may act vulnerable only to you, letting you get as close to slaughter him, but knowing you'll place a kiss instead. The beast would hold you as his own treasure, a creature that must not be hurt, not even for his own hands. He would cut them off before.

He would cut them off from anyone before they touch you. For no one should ever touch what he decided, that very morning you asked how he had been, would belong to him.

AND EVERYTHING WOULD HAVE CONTINUED ON GOING SO SMOOTHLY... BUT THE DAAAAAAAAMN FINALS, ah, made their entrance.

You barely have time to sleep, to eat, to fucking breathe. Your levels of anxiety are higher than the HQ damn building and your brain is so overworked you cannot do more than what you're asked to in autopilot. You know that you're only going to be like this for approximately another two weeks, but your poor lover has suffered the last four days thinking you're sick, or sad, or worse... Mad at him. No, not in that order.

"Arañita..." He calls for you. Your hand moving over your notebook at one hundred km per hour concerns him.

"The reports are done. Peter from -5266 and Hugh from -1993 are out right now. They should be getting back at any minute. Anomaly #125 was sent to its original universe this morning." You push the tablet to him with your free hand without even looking up or slowing down your writing.

"Thank you, but..." He tilts his head, furrowing his brows. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. I just need to get this done before four. By the way, can I leave early today? I need to study for tomorrow's test."

"Again? Didn't you have one yesterday?"

"Yes. We're on finals, Miguel. We tend to have a lot of them these days. That's why I'm losing my mind over here."

"Just for some tests?" You have to stop yourself to remind you it's not his fault to be smart. It's not his fault being more intelligent than almost every person you knew. It's not his fault he doesn't know what is to struggle on school. It's not his fault, It's not his fault, It's not his fault... "You haven't even touched your food." He says, looking at the little box he got you with the meal now cold.

"I... I know. I'm sorry, Mig." You sigh, looking up at him for the first time in the day. "I'm just really stressed out right now. But I promise I'll take it back home later, okay?"

This was also the fourth day you didn't stay at his place. My man doesn't want to be a burden, but he has attachment issues, ok?, and after the week you spent sleeping in his arms, it may or may not be that Miguel has been having trouble falling asleep without the weight of your body on his chest.

After watching you leave that day, Miguel found himself staying till unreasonable hours of the early morning working in the lab. There was no point on going back to his cold apartment anyway... And he had a lot of things to get done. He didn't have time to...

"Oh, it's you." Miguel jumps in his place at the sudden voice calling from behind. "I thought that poor girl had stayed here, with all the things she seems to be doing these days."

The man shakes his head, ignoring Jessica closing the distance behind him, leaning against the door frame. Miguel can almost make out the little smile on her lips without turning around, and that only infuriates him even more.

"And why do you look like a caged lion?" She mocks. "Trouble in paradise?"

Miguel's first instinct is snap back at her and ask her to leave him alone. He knows she would comply, what he doesn't know is how benefic that would be for his current situation.

"I don't know what's going out with her." He admits, letting his head fall in irritation. "She says she's having some tests right now, but she's just to... Stressed? I don't know. She's so smart I cannot conceive how bad this is affecting her." The laugh that emanates from Jessica's throat makes his ears go red. "What?"

"Oh, babe, when was the last time you went to college?" Jessica puts both of her hands on her waist, pursing the lips to avoid smiling again.

"Why is that important?"

"When, Miguel?" She demands.

"Ugh... I don't know. Like four-five years ago."

"When was the last time you failed a class?"

"Never." He immediately responds.

"When was the last time grades were important on your Earth?"

Miguel frowns. "I don't remember. The path for learning had changed long before I was born. I don't even think I ever had something like a grade. We were judged individually for our skills and our intelligence type. Not memorization."

"Exactly." She claps, pointing at him with a all-knowing finger. "Thanks to that you got the chance to develop your true abilities as a student, but our girl from 2023 it is not beneficiary of this privilege. She doesn't get the chance to strengthen in what she is good, she must memorize and memorize and memorize over and over again. Because the tests on her Earth aren't done with the purpose of just checking how is her knowledge progressing, they are done to see if she's worthy of continuing forward in her very career."

Miguel remains silent for a minute, swallowing all the new information by pieces. For someone so smart, Jessica has never see him seem so lost. The nuts in his brain begin to turn and turn until his eyes seem to light up with the clarity of the light of the new world.

"Hm." He nods. "Thank you."

The woman knows he doesn't need anything more when he turns around, typing into one of the screens something that escapes from her eyes.

During the rest of the two weeks of finals, Miguel tried to do his best to support you.

He even read all of the information about your education system, striving to understand everything in just a couple of nights.

He's a man on a mission: letting you know he's there, that you're strong and smart, and you can do it.

While you study in the lab, he leaves you be. He gets you coffee, or tea, or anything you prefer. He might even hiss at people entering his space (your space) making too much noise, pointing at you with his chin and threatening eyes.

"Hey, girl..." Peter B. comes in one morning, moving nervously under the scrutinizing gaze of your lover. "Don't be so harsh on yourself..." He gives you some awkward pats on the back, smiling. "You're doing great."

That was all it took.

"No, I'm not!" You weep, letting your head fall on the desk, shaking between sobs.

"Great. Ya la hiciste llorar." Miguel pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing. "Here, give it to her." He calls for Peter's attention, handing him an specific chocolate.

Peter takes it with confused eyes, offering it to you, reaching out his arm as if he were to touch you, you'll explode.

"Here." He says. "Look what I got."

You raise your eyes, meeting the little packing. Then, when you look at him, Peter almost thinks he just made all worst.

"Oh, Peter... Thank you!" You take the chocolate, pulling from him to a big hug. "I love these so much, thank you! You're so kind!"

Peter lets you be, looking back at Miguel who just nods at him to let him know this wasn't his first rodeo. He pats your back, soothing you with some more nervous words until you're ready to let him go.

If you're really struggling, Miguel won't think twice to help you. He's smart, it takes him nothing more than a look to his old notes or a quick search on the internet (specially if you're studying something science related or an engineering, if you're on law or arts, oh boy, you're gonna make this man suffer) to know exactly what you need and make sure you're taking that fucking project tomorrow.

Some other days, he just catches you sleeping with your hands crossed above the table and your saliva drooling out to your notes. His jacket would then come over you, after, he would take your pending stuff and start solving problems and making notes for you to have it easier at the memorizing part of the study.

You always wake up to see the edges of your paper full of arrows, little equations and encircled key words. And, sometimes, a tired Miguel sleeping uncomfortably by your side, just waiting for you to tell him it's time to go.

The day, a Friday, where you're finally done with college (at least for a couple of months) Miguel felt it like the day his soul came back to his body.

You are smiling all day again, calling his name, doing a mess all over the whole building. And he can not be more happy about it.

He might never tell you, me might even justify himself saying he had been staying up late working in the lab every time you ask for the bags under his eyes. Because he's definitely not telling you there were nights where he couldn't even close his eyes 'cause you weren't there with him.

"Time to go home." You hum behind him, getting all of your stuff inside your backpack.

"Thank God" He rubs his neck, walking closer to you to give you a soft kiss on the forehead. "I'm dying."

You yawn, nodding. "Me too. These weeks drained me."

"Me too." He repeats, and you don't know how much he means it. "Let's just go to sleep, yeah? Hopefully tomorrow there won't be so much to do."

You smile, leaning into his embrace as you walk out the door, hearing the lights turning off as both come closer and closer to the exit.

"Yeah, that sounds good."

"Okay."

"Okay."

Miguel steadies your body by pressing down on your hips, keeping your ass on the bed. You try to push his face out of between your thighs but he refuses to pull apart.

"Miguel!" You cry out, tears rolling down your cheeks cause of the overstimulation he was putting you in. "Too much, too much..."

His fingers curl inside you one more time, and your arch your back, almost rolling your eyes at the feeling. His tongue flicks over your sensitive bud again, dragging choked moans out of you. You try to squirm away but his hands pull you from your ass back at him as soon as you start moving.

"Easy there, Arañita. I'm almost done." He smiles up at you, letting you see the lower half of his face completely covered in your arousal.

"Mig... Mi amor..." You breath out, trying to push him out again when his chuckle crashes against your folds.

"One more, love, and you'll be ready for me." He sucks on your clit as he speaks, moving his fingers with an slower pace now. "Uno más, mamita, dame uno más."

He pushes his face down on you, working his tongue all around your most needy spot with his digits burying now deep inside you, hitting that soft place between your walls that makes you want to cry. You're a mess of moans and whimpers by now, but when his teeth slowly press on your clit, it's over for you. Your eyes roll back, your thighs tremble around him, encaging him in his favorite prison as he guides you through it, moaning into your skin when he feels your pleasure dripping on him, motivating his hips to hump against the mattress as a fucking teenager would do.

After you get down from your high, you look up at him to find him positioning himself between your legs, dragging the tip of his cock up and down on your folds.

"Miguel, wait, I'm..."

"You know your safe word, mamita, you can make me stop whenever you want." He places your legs on his shoulders and his hands on your hips, keeping you just as he wishes to. "I'm going in, and I want your eyes on me all the time I fuck you, ¿me entiendes, hermosa?"

You nod, watching the point where both of your bodies would join. He enters slowly, giving you time to adjust his size. But after the first hint of your hips trying to feel him even more, he pulls back and thrusts all the way in, making your head fall back as your back arches.

His right hand grabs you by the jaw, forcing you to open your eyes and observe how red his irises had turned.

"Eyes on me."

His pace speeds up, bottoming out with every thrust he makes. Your hands push at his lower abdomen, biting your lip to avoid crying out loud again.

"Too fast, Mig. Too much." You moan, your still overstimulated clit rips another whimper from you every time his happy trail and trimmed hair crashes against it. You were barely holding on, but your lover can't never get enough. His body reaches down, and as he places one hand around your neck, his other thumb toys at your clit in a excruciating pace. "Fuck! No, Miguel."

You tremble under him, wrapping your legs around his waist when you cannot think about anything more than cumming. Your nails bury on the skin of his back, dragging an out of breath grunt out of him.

"I'm, I'm cum-" You try to voice but nothing in your brain seems to work anymore.

"Do it, love. I got you." He keeps up his pace, almost kissing your cervix by now. "Cum for me, mi amor."

His hand squeezes a little bit harder on your neck and you need nothing else to see fucking white. Your mouth opens in a big O before your start trembling, shaking uncontrollably under his body, letting out the sweetest of sounds for him to hear.

He grunts, falling into the crock of your neck when you tighten your walls around him.

"I'm going to fucking fill you." He's out of breath and he curses something in Spanish you cannot make out. "I'm going to put a baby on your tummy, mamita..."

"Miguel..." You were on the verge of tears again, you cannot longer feel your legs but you surely can feel him deep inside you.

"Yes, love. Fuck... I'm cumming. I'm..." He bites down on your flesh, sinking his fangs into your skin when his hips stutter. His talons grow so big they dig into the headboard.

You moan at the feeling, hugging your body to his until he can breath normal again.

When he looks back at you his eyes have returned to that soft brown you're used too.

"Are you okay?" He asks, sending shivers down your spine when he caresses the sore skin.

"Yes." You smile and he traps your lips into a kiss. "And now I'm really fucking tired."

He chuckles, lifting his weight onto his forearms.

"Come here, amor. Let's take a shower so you can rest comfortably." He places another soft peck on your forehead. "I'll wash your hair."

You definitely know he will do more than that.

PD: Tbh with you guys, all I could think about while writing this was this tiktok:

[v-thinks-on]

Holmes and I returned to the bakery which had brought us to this little town in the first place. Mrs. Watson was already waiting for us when we arrived, and she had been joined by Miss Jane Marple, one of Holmes’s young relations, who must have been near thirty at the time, if Holmes and I were nearing fifty.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Holmes, Dr. Watson,” Miss Marple said, “I suppose you’ve travelled from London for a change of pace, though I’ve found the pace of the countryside is not really so different from anywhere else.”

“So, you’ve made a study of it?” Holmes asked, rubbing his hands together in enthusiasm.

Mrs. Watson and I had exchanged terse greetings and now she remained behind Miss Marple, as I stayed a step behind Holmes.

“You could say that,” Miss Marple answered Holmes. “St. Mary Mead seems to me as though it might be a microcosm of the whole world. There is no human drama I have witnessed anywhere else that I have not happened upon in the village.”

“You must be very busy,” I remarked.

“No, I would not say more so than any other spinster.”

To my surprise, Mrs. Watson gave a little fond chuckle. “Yet you somehow talk to everyone and know all their gossip.”

Miss Marple shook her head. “There is no such thing as secrets in a village like St. Mary Mead.”

With some direction from Holmes, we all meandered into the bakery so that Holmes could replace Mrs. Watson’s waylaid pies.

“And some ginger snaps, if you please,” Holmes said to the baker with a wry glance at me.

“Holmes, you needn’t,” I insisted with a laugh.

“They are not for you, my dear fellow, but for Miss Marple.” Holmes said, taking the parcel from the baker and holding it out to her. “It is a unique flavour, pungent, yet sweet.”

“Thank you, Mr. Holmes,” Miss Marple said, accepting a biscuit from the parcel and taking a small bite. “While we all lived together, some of my cousins became very adventurous chefs, which didn’t always turn out so well, but there was one particularly successful batch of ginger snaps—after the first attempt nearly burned down the house. And, of course, all of my neighbours now in St. Mary Mead each has their own recipe, but these are excellent.”

Holmes then held out the parcel to Mrs. Watson who turned him away, as I knew she would. “Ginger is all very well in curries, but it doesn’t belong in a biscuit,” she said with some vehemence. “A biscuit should be sweet, not sharp.”

Holmes at last handed off the parcel of ginger snaps to me as he returned to the baker. “Some florentines, for the lady, if you please.”

Holmes gave the final parcel to Mrs. Watson, and then we all left the sweet, warm shop, to return to the cold winter air, with our pastries in hand to ease the way. I nibbled on my own sweet, sharp ginger biscuit, and Holmes snuck up behind me to take one for himself, and I offered the rest to Miss Marple.

“This is very generous of you, Mr. Holmes,” Mrs. Watson said, eating a biscuit of her own, as we went down the country lane, back toward the inn.

“It is I who owe you my gratitude for your generosity,” Holmes replied, and I felt the same.