#I was like hey it’s not her fault but couldn’t explain why

[gojos-thot-patrol]

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Starring: True from! Sukuna in a cabin in the woods... Synopsis: You don't see the point in it; chasing myths on Halloween night, going deeper into the woods than you ever had before. You'd rather be at home than chasing ghosts. But, your best friend insists on finding evidence of the local urban legends, and surely she won't abandon you the moment you find what shes been hunting, right? Content Warning: Tonight we are serving True form (two dicks) Sukuna, double penetration, tummy bulges, cunnilingus, kidnapping, marking, slight dubcon, and a soft Sukuna if you squint. reader discretion is advised

“So, remind me again why we’re taking a walk in the woods on Halloween night?” You asked your friend, narrowly avoiding a thorn vine as you pushed past the brush. 

“Because, historically speaking, people tend to see it on Halloween!” She explained, holding up her camera, “It’s our best chance of finding evidence of the spider demon.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at her optimism.

“I don’t know if “Historically” is the right word to use there,” you grumbled softly as you continued your walk together. Ever since the two of you had started taking that Folklore Studies class for an extra college credit she had become obsessed with the local urban legend: The Spider Demon. To her credit, it was a genuinely interesting topic. 

As far back as town hall kept records of, there were sightings of the beast: a giant humanoid man that was covered in ancient markings, with four arms, four eyes, and a giant mouth on his abdomen. Rumor has it, he was the one at fault for all the disappearances that plagued your small town, dragging poor, innocent souls into some far off lair and feasting on their flesh. 

The sane people knew the real reason for the disappearances though; most of those kids hopped a train and got the fuck out of that dying town while they still could. You couldn’t say you blamed them. If you didn’t go to school here, one of the cheaper colleges around, you wouldn’t be here either. 

Your thoughts came to a halt as the two of you came up on an old stream. You knew it well as the boundary between where it was acceptable to play in the woods, and where was off limits. Everyone in the town had followed this rule. Your great grandparents had this rule engraved in their soul as kids, just as your parents and grandparents had, just as you had. And just as your kids would one day. No one really knew why you weren’t supposed to cross the water, just that you weren’t.

And your best friend was trying to hop across. “Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doin’?!” You yelled as you grabbed her arm and pulled her back. She looked at you as if you had just grown two extra heads.

"I'm crossing the stream?" She asked as if you were the insane one here.

"Yeah, I can see that dipshit!" You snapped, "Why the hell would you do that?!"

"To get to the other side?"

"What are you, a chicken?! You know we're not supposed to cross this stream." Your friend dramatically rolled her eyes, making her annoyance clear.

"The only chicken here is you Y/n." She scoffed. "Come on, it's just water. It can't hurt you." She said in a tone meant to mock assurance. It grinded your bones and made you wonder why you were friends to begin with.

"Don't be like that. Everyone in this town has been told since birth not to cross that stream, there has to be a reason why."

"The reason why is probably so little kids don't drown." She explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the entire world. It made you want to rearrange her teeth. "I'm going to cross the stream and keep the hunt going, are you with me or not Y/n?" She asked.

You took a deep breath. You absolutely were not with her. Every fiber in your being was setting off red flags, you could hear your ancestors screaming at you to turn around, somewhere from the great beyond, both Cain and Abel look at you and say "girl, don't do it." 

And yet, you started to jump across the rocks. As annoying as your friend was, she was still your friend, and you couldn't let her go alone. Your ancestors all collectively face palm, your nerves explode, Cain turns to Abel and shakes his head. There's no saving you now. You swore the air temperature dropped by at least three degrees as you made it to the other side of the stream. You cursed softly as you wrapped your jacket tighter around you, and rushed to catch up with your friend.

“See? We crossed the water and we didn’t explode! Some rules are just made to be broken.” She seemed confident in that, but you still weren’t. Something was so…off. Wrong. But you couldn’t figure out what. The moon was still as full as ever, lighting your way as the two of you walked. Your friend seemed fine, as chatty as hell even. And you were physically okay. Leaves crunched under your shoes, and the crickets chirped-

Wait. No they didn’t. “Hey, shush.” You demanded of your friend.

“What!? Why should I-”

“I said Shut. Up.” You snapped, an unfamiliar edge to your voice taking even you by surprise. She shut up, and you struggled to listen to the sounds of the forest. Except, there were no sounds of the forest. No crickets singing, no owls hooting, not even the rustle of a field mouse in the grass. The woods were completely silent, filled with nothing but the sound of your breathing. 

“Do you hear that?” You asked your friend.

“I don’t hear anything.” She scoffed.

“Exactly. We need to turn back.”

“What?! No way!” She protested with a stomp of her foot. You were really starting to think that Darwinism would not look kindly upon your friend.

“The woods are completely quiet.” You pointed out, “That doesn’t happen unless it has a reason to be quiet. We’re not welcome here.” You tried to argue. You would have been better off arguing with the moon itself. Your friend just shook her head as she continued to walk.

“The woods are always quiet Y/n, its what makes it so peaceful, or whatever.”

“But not this quiet!” You pleaded as you chased after her, still not willing to let her die out here alone. “Dude, please, we need to go-!”

“Ooo, whats that!” Your “best friend” quickly changed the topic as she pointed out a building off in the distance, running off to check it out. You felt your stomach fall to the floor. Who would build anything out here? You ran to follow her, deciding to just drag her back home if you had to. 

“Its a house!” She pointed out with a laugh as the two of you reached the edge of a lawn, “And they even decorated for Halloween, how sweet.” You looked at the house, an old wooden cabin that looked like something a pilgrim would have built back in the 1700s. You were shocked to see lights glowing in the window, indicating the building had electricity. That wasn’t what unnerved you the most though.

That would be the bones littering the yard. Animal and human alike, some looking older than others. All strewn about as if thrown there without any care, or sense of design. They looked more like discarded trash than they did decor, and a morbid part of your brain forced you to ask; do those maybe look a little too real to be made of plastic? You blood felt colder than ice as your throat contracted, an unseen anaconda choking you as your knees threatened to give out.

This place was cursed. “You should go knock.” Your friend smirked.

“I would rather die.” You whispered.

“I’m serious!” She laughed, “Go trick or treating! You’d probably be the first one to do so here.” 

“No way, this isn’t right. Why would they “decorate” for Halloween all the way out here? Why are they out here to begin with? It doesn’t make sense, we need to go.”

“Well, I’m not leaving until you go knock on the door.” Your friend shrugged as if she wasn’t signing your death certificate. “These kind people deserve trick or treaters, and I deserve to take a picture of you scared shitless as you knock on the door.” She laughed.

“That’s not funny!” You snapped, your patience growing thinner as your anxiety grew.

“Oh come on Y/n! Don’t be such a bitch, just go knock on the door and then we can go, okay? I promise.”

“...Swear?” You asked softly, at this point willing to do whatever it took to leave these woods and go home.

“Swear.” Your best friend smiled, locking her pinky with yours. Her smile as angelic, enough to trick you into a facade of ease. You took a deep breath as you approached the door, carefully avoiding the skeletons as you walked. Did they looked chewed on? You didn’t want to think too hard about it. You could feel your heart in your throat, the false courage of your friends pinky promise fleeing faster and faster with every step you took closer to this house. It radiated death.

Climbing the creaky stairs was harder than you anticipated, your jittering joints protesting the very act. You reached a trembling fist to the splintering wooden door, knocking as soft as possible. “H-Hello?” You called out, hating the way your voice quivered, “Trick or Treat!” Your entire body tried to collapse in on itself, the only thing keeping you from doing so was the primal instinct to maintain your ability to run should you so need.

You waited a few seconds, then let out a shaking breath as no one came to the door. As you turned back to your friend, you were blinded by the flash of a camera, freezing you in your place. The sounds of her cackle filled you with rage. You really needed you friends. 

You rolled your eyes. “There I knocked. Are you happy? Can we please go home no-” your words died in your throat as you heard the door open.

“Trick.” a rough deep voice said, deeply unfamiliar to you. You watched your friends face contort into fear and her jaw unhinged itself into a scream as she scrambled to get away. Though, you weren’t able to hear her panic, the ringing in your ears becoming deafening as you felt your feet fall from underneath you, a python of an arm squeezing your stomach as you were lifted into the air, and into the house. 

You tried to grab the door frame as you were dragged into hell, becoming aware of your own screaming ripping through your throat as the frame was ripped from your fingers and the door shut in your face.

“Quite mortal.” The voice said again, and you almost instantly shut up. Something primal in your DNA sequencing knowing better than to piss off this devil. The monster turned you over in his hands, turning you to face him. Your soul left your body. You took in the visage of the beast, your panicking brain struggling to process what was in front of you.

 A giant humanoid man, with four arms, four eyes, and a face and chest full of ancient markings. He was holding you too close to properly see it, not to mention the fact that he was wearing a regal robe, but you would bet an unreasonable amount of money he had a sickening smile on his belly. You were in The Spider Demons claws.

And worst of all, he was kinda cute? Like, maybe it was the unshakeable sense of death that rattled your soul and turned your brain into mush, but if he was like- a normal guy with a normal amount of arms and eyes, you would have been smitten! You were kinda smitten now, even if you didn’t want to admit that. God you…really really hoped this whole experience wasn’t awakening something in you. This would be something to unpack in therapy later- if you survived this.

The demon took your chin in a free hand, turning your head as he examined you. You smelled divine. If you had been a sacrifice for him, he would have given whoever picked you out an A++ for finding you, and a bit more leniency for a while. But, he knew you weren’t a sacrifice. The townsfolk had declared him their enemy long ago, and had been facing the consequences ever since. So, that begged the question.

“Tell me, whats a pretty thing like you doing at my doorstep on the most haunted night of the year?” He asked, turning your head to look him in the eye. 

“Wishing you were a myth.” You went with the first thing that came to your head and instantly regretted it. That might have been a little too honest for this situation. But, at least he seemed to find humor in it, snickering at your quip.

“Keep wishing then human, I’m all too real.” He chuckled darkly. 

“Yeah, I-I see that…Are you going to kill me?” Your voice was shakier than you intended as you asked. You hated it, but the anticipation of what he was going to do was more painful that anything he could have actually done.

“I haven’t decided yet.” He mused as he continued his examination of you. He smiled cruelly as he felt your pulse quicken under his hands. He could smell your fear, and it was intoxicating. Your eyes, blown wide with fear, were stirring something deep down inside of him, and making you far more interesting than any other human he had come across in years.

Or, maybe it had just been a while since he had anyone to fuck. Granted, he had stolen plenty of mortals from your small town, but most of the time they died in the process. Corpses held no interest to him for anything other than food. But you? You were alive and warm, and vulnerable in his claws. That fact alone made the notion of keeping you alive for a little longer far more enticing than killing you just yet. 

“Um, anything I could do to help you make that decision?” You asked softly.

“The decision to kill you?” he questioned

“Well, the decision not too!” You quickly clarified, “Dying sounds kinda, well, not fun  and with you being like, a real thing that kinda makes me question well everything as far as mythology goes and that makes dying really fucking scary and-”

“You’re rambling mortal.” He sneered in annoyance.

“Right! My bad I just- please don’t kill me. I’ll do anything not to die.” You begged, tears prickling the corners of your eyes as you grappled with being forced to face the unknown. You had the beasts attention though, an eyebrow raising at your offer.

“Anything?” He purred, his eyes falling to the swell of your chest and making you greatly regret your word choice. “Anything at all?”

“Anything.” You whispered softly. You reasoned with yourself that this was for your life and definitely not because the thought of getting railed by a blood thirsty demon made you squish your thighs together in anticipation. You for sure didn’t feel a rush of arousal as the thought of something meant to kill you making you cum instead crossed your mind. That didn’t happen, no way, not at all. You weren’t wondering if his dick was as monstrous as he was, or if his markings graced it as well.

“Alright then Human, deal.” He grinned wickedly as he brushed a stray hair behind your ear. “I’ll let you live, if you give your body to me first.” You felt your face burn at his proposal. Something felt fundamentally wrong about spreading your legs for a demon. You weren’t religious or anything, but that had to be some sort of sin. But, if it was for your life, surely you could indulge- I MEAN- endure. 

“Before I agree, we’re not talking about possession, right?” You had to clarify. He smirked at your words. You were cleaver to ask, it showed a familiarity with the supernatural. Maybe you weren’t as foolish as you first seemed after all.

“Smart girl. But no, we’re not talking about possession.” He confirmed. 

“Okay, cool, just checking.” You chuckled nervously. “You got yourself a deal.” His smirk turned into a dark grin as his free hands rushed to your clothes. You panicked, knowing he was going to rip them off and you’d be forced to walk back in the nude. That would have been mortifying.

“Wait wait wait!” You yelped, holding up your arms to stop his hands. 

“What?” He growled, annoyance flooding his tone.

“Let me undress myself.” You requested, “Please? I’ll make it worth your while.” He seemed intrigued and amused, setting you on the ground with an almost unnerving gentleness. 

“Will you now? Lets see.” He hummed. You nodded, taking a few steps back. You took a deep breath and shrugged your jacket off your shoulders. You had never been particularly good at being sexy, at least not in your opinion. But, The monsters eyes could have convinced you otherwise. The way he watched you undress, as if he was a starving man looking at a thanksgiving feast, or a hungry demon looking at his next meal. It gave you the confidence to put on a proper show, teasing him as you slowly shed your clothes.

“I’m Y/n by the way,” You said as your hands reached to unhook your bra, “You got a name, or is it just spider demon?” He huffed humorlessly at your quip. He never liked that title. 

“Ryomen Sukuna,” He said, his eyes setting fire to your skin as you finally dropped your bra for him, “you can call me Sukuna.” 

“Noted.” You nodded as you dropped your panties. His lustful grin showed off his incredibly sharp fangs as he dropped his own robe, the only thing covering him. You confirmed the mouth theory, seeing it spread and hungrily panting across his toned abs. Your breath hitched when you saw when he was working with. 

His dick- or rather, dicks- looked human enough despite the markings, but they were longer and thicker than anything you had taken before. And again, there were two of them. They stood hard and proud against his stomach, twitching to be inside you. You didn’t know if the buzzing in your hands and legs was from regret, or excitement.

You didn’t have time to figure it out either before you were taken back into the demons arms, this time with less violence and more neediness. He pressed you to his stomach, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist and leaving you open to him.

“You’re pretty brave for a human, you know that?” He complimented as a large tongue lolled out of his stomach mouth and against your soaking core. He chuckled darkly as the muscle shoved itself into your weeping cunt, making you gasp at the sudden stretch, “And such a slut too.”

“Hey, this was your idea, not mine.” You reminded him though breathy moans, trying to ground yourself as your hips bucked against his giant mouth. Every movement of the tongue felt like being touch for the first time, a ripple of pleasure coursing though your stomach and legs, and making you wonder there was something supernatural going on to make a demonic act feel so heavenly.

“True,” He agreed, “But you’re the one that's gushing for a monster when I’ve hardly touched you.” he reminded you, watching the way your face contorted with pleasure as you dropped the act of innocence. He didn’t know what was more arousing to him, watching your resolve dissolve, or just how sweet you tasted as you desperately you rode his tongue. “I was going to kill you just a few moments ago, you know that right?” He growled into you ear.

“Yeah, but you’re fucking me instead. Sounds like a win to me.” You grinned and he laughed at your sudden audacity. He knew he liked you.

“You really are a whore, Aren’t you?” He teased as his tongue slipped out of your cunt and into your ass instead, watching the way your breasts bounced as you flinched and moaned at the sudden intrusion. 

“Not a whore if it’s for my life.” You whined, digging your nails into his shoulders. You were starting to feel light headed from the pleasure pooling in your stomach, your cunt clenching around nothing, pissed off from the loss.

“Whatever you have to tell yourself.” He chuckled as his face fell to the crook of your neck, taking in your intoxicating smell. He could feel his dicks twitch with need as he kissed you there, fighting every instinct in his body to keep from digging his teeth into the thin skin. He tasted your sweet slick as it dripped from your cunt and onto the middle of his tongue, and finally he withdrew the muscle. 

You whined as he did, head dropping to his chest, both holes now clenching around nothing. “No, fuck-” You whimpered, only for him curl a clawed finger under your chin and lift your head to face him. “Sukuna..” You whimpered as you looked into his fire red eyes, darkened by lust. His lips crashed into yours, capturing you in a heated kiss. You sighed against his mouth, hands rising to tangle into his soft pink hair as his tongue tangled with yours.

You screamed into his mouth as you felt him shove both of his cocks into you at once, one for each hole. He growled, biting down on your lip as you clenched around him. “Sukuna!” You gasped as you pulled back from the kiss, your body trying hard to push out the sudden intrusion.

“Relax for me Darling,” He groaned softly, the pet name slipping out without his permission. He pressed his forehead to yours as he rubbed your stomach, trying to ease your pain.

“I-I can’t. Too big..” You panted, trying desperately to release the tension in your shoulders. The stretch was searing you from the inside out. You felt overwhelmed, the pleasure in the pain feeling like static shocks. “It’s soo much..”

“You can handle it,” He assured you, extremely (perhaps overly) confident in your ability considering you had met less than an hour ago. You shook your head, tears slipping from your eyes. He lapped them up from your face, then captured your lips in a much softer kiss this time. Slowly, your body came to accept his, the tension melting away as his tongue tangled with yours and he eased his way further into you. The burn faded, leaving just the pleasure there, pulsating through you as he pushed deeper. 

He groaned into your lips as he bottomed out into you, stilling both to give you time to adjust and so he didn’t immediately cum in you like a fucking virgin. It was almost embarrassing how good you felt around him, taking him better than any other being had before. You clenched and fluttered around him in a sinful way, bringing him closer to his climax than he would like to admit.

“Told you.” He smirked as he pulled away from the kiss, licking at the string of saliva that connected the two of you. You whined as you looked down to where the two of you were connected, watching a bulge in your stomach appear and disappear with every thrust of his hips. It should have hurt, but no- quite the opposite.

 Every thrust of his hips electrified you with pleasure, sending wave after wave of intoxicating bliss through your nervous system. You had never felt so full before, so complete. You could feel his cocks rub against each other, against your walls inside of you, a dizzying sensation that you had never experienced before. Your hips bucked against him greedily as he fucked you, chasing your high.

“Look at me Y/n,” He demanded, pulling your head up so your eyes connected with his again, “I want you know the demon making you feel so good.” 

“Ryomen-” You whined, forgetting in your sea of lust that wasn’t the name he told you to use. His eyes widened a bit from shock. Mostly because he wasn’t filled with rage by your insolence, but instead a surge of lust from hearing his name fall from your lips. It really had been awhile, he was feeling himself getting attached far too easily. If he knew what was good for him, he would have finished and disposed of you as quickly as possible. He wasn’t interested in what was good for him.

“Say it again.” He demanded, a hand slipping in between you to rub circles into your clit. 

“Ryomen..” You whined, staring at him with fucked out, lust clouded eyes as you trembled in his arms, thighs clenching around his abdomen as the ecstasy crashed through your core and through out your body. You felt your muscles ripple and tense in anticipation. 

“Again,” He growled, pulling you closer to him, and dropping his forehead down to yours. “Who does this cunt belong to?”

“Ryomen..” Your brain was too clouded to make out the rest of his command, your body buzzing and bliss building up inside of you. He picked up his pace, chasing his own high and making you scream out his name in a truly embarrassing and needy moan. 

You clung onto his shoulders and neck, digging your nails into the soft skin there as the euphoria in your veins finally boiled over and hit the fire inside of your stomach, igniting it in an explosion of ecstasy and lust. Your vision exploded with stars and your brain officially clocked out of work as you melted into a puddle. Your legs shaking around him as you leaned against his strong body, unable to keep yourself up any longer.

Your velvety walls quivered around him and sucked him in impossibly deeper, needy and lustful for him. It drove him mad. He watched as your face scrunched in pleasure, your body reacting to him greedily as you melted into the pleasure he he was gracing you with. 

It send him over the edge watching you cum for him, feeling you cum over him, feeling you gush around him. He couldn’t hold himself back any longer, holding you in a grip tight enough to bruise. His fangs buried themselves into your neck, marking you as his and his alone as he came deep inside of you, the warm strings gushing in you and filling you to the point of spilling over.

He held you close to him, head hung back as you both tried to catch your breath. Your mind was starting to clear the fog out, looking up to ask him to put you down before you felt him move inside you again. Your breath hitched as you realized he didn’t even get a little soft. You looked at him with almost horrified eyes as he bucked into you, only acting to encourage him. He looked back at you with lustful and wicked eyes, nipping at your lip as he set his pace and grinned.

“Whats wrong Darling?” He asked, the pet name now fully intentional in its use, “You didn’t think I was done with you yet, did you?” 

🎃🎃🎃

You were warm when you woke up, despite still being in the nude. Probably because of the huge body pressed against yours, radiating heat and holding you close as he slept. Visions of last night ran though your head, making you almost painfully aware of the cum still dripping from between your thighs, and sending another wave of arousal through you. When did you pass out? When did Ryomen?

You stayed still for a few seconds, listing to your bedfellows steady breathing. The bed, despite being made from feathers and thin quilting, was surprisingly soft, and the late afternoon sun filled the old home with a warm hazy light. You realized you couldn’t stay here any longer. You couldn’t get attached to an urban legend. 

You slipped out of his arms, freezing as he groaned and only breathing again once he was softly snoring. You sighed as you slipped out of the bedroom and found your clothes again. You quickly got dressed, and went to open the front door. It didn’t budge. Your eyes furrowed in confusion as you pulled the knob again. What the hell? You pulled with all your might, almost screaming with frustration as the door didn’t even move a centimeter. 

“Don’t bother with that Dove.” You gasped as you heard Ryomens voice behind you, a wave of dread blanketing you as you spun to face him. He was leaning casually against the door frame of the bedroom, a content smile painted on his face. “It has my seal on it. I’m the only one that can open that door.”

[after-witch]

Bookworm [Yandere Mahito x Reader]

Title: Bookworm [Yandere Mahito x Reader]

Synopsis: Mahito doesn't like that you have an interest in a book character.

Word count: 1787

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, mentions of other people being tortured/killed, supreme self indulgence of the highest order

“Who is the smiling man?” 

The silence that had existed between the two of you was broken by a question that made you flinch. Well, why not? Mahito has been quiet all morning--and afternoon, actually, which perhaps should have startled you more than his sudden words. 

But you were too happy to enjoy some quiet (you would never say “peace and quiet,” not down here, not with him); all too happy to curl up in your haphazard nest on the floor with some books that took  you away from this place. Away from Mahito.

Who was, of course, still here. Lounging in his hammock with a pile of books sagging down the netting. 

You couldn’t tell exactly what he was reading from down here--you probably needed new glasses, a subject you were certainly not going to bring up with Mahito, who might reiterate his offer to “fix” your eyes. It looked like a bundle of pages stapled together. Maybe he went to the library and printed off obscure articles to read again. 

“Hey,” he calls down, and the first hint of worry begins to prickle on your arms at his uncharacteristically serious tone, “Answer me.”

Your mind stutters, tries to put one word in front of the other, and make sense of it all. 

The smiling man? The smiling man, the… ah. From Small Spaces. The otherworldly supernatural entity who lives in a world behind mist and has a penchant for making deals with people for their greatest wishes. 

It’s not your fault that you haven’t thought about him in ages. It’s not like you had copies of your books with you, and the fun you had with imagining him in an endless number of scenarios had fallen by the wayside considering your circumstances. 

It’s hard to daydream about worlds behind mist and cornfield servants when you’re watching people be turned into grotesque experiments that had them, sometimes quite literally and loudly, begging for death.

Mahito is looking down at you now, staring expectantly. 

“He’s a character,” you say, fidgeting on the floor. “From a book series.” You look down, flip a page in your book, although you haven’t finished reading the last one, and ask, casually as you can muster: “Why?”

Mahito, up above, flips a page. You can hear the wobble in the paper--not a bound book, that’s for certain. And there’s some low, primal sense that shivers through you which says, plainly, that he’s actually reading whatever’s in front of him. 

“You write about him a lot.”

Oh.

Low, slimy dread filters into your stomach. Thick and gelatinous, resting at the bottom of your belly like an unwanted slug. 

“I… don’t know what you mean,” you say, voice only half-there, because while you are apparently stupid enough to lie to Mahito’s face, you’re not stupid enough to think he’ll believe you. 

You are just stupid enough to think that he won’t know exactly how deep your interest in this particular character goes; before Mahito took you, you thought about him all the time. You’d take walks and daydream about him, write story after story; you’d even commissioned fanart of him, because it wasn’t like there was a plethora of fanart for a character from a middle grade horror book. 

Mahito huffs out a sigh. Quick and short, it sends a shock right down your stomach. 

“Get you a man,” he starts, and confusion buzzes through your brain until he continues. “Who is an otherworldly entity that is so petty when an 11 year old beats him that he traps her in another world, leaving her to a fate worse than death, and laughs until he cries about it.”

You wrote that. There’s a vague memory of when you posted it--after you’d taken a walk, you think, and reread your favorite parts in the books for a few hours. But the way Mahito says it makes it sound--you don’t know how to explain it. Like saying the words out loud almost pains him; they come out clipped and bitter. 

Bitter? But why?

He doesn’t stop there. He reads something else, voice getting higher, almost mocking the way you talk. And that bitterness is still there, a thread continuing through every syllable.

“What if we kissed in the corn maze before you turned me into a scarecrow servant whose soul slowly gets dried out and useless and in the end you feed it, crunchy and tasteless, to your hellhound.” 

He takes a breath. Then--

“One particular aspect of the Smiling Man’s cruelty that I truly adore is that he can make people feel understood. He can make them feel like he cares, like he’s lending a listening ear, like he’s wanting to help them out and make them feel nice.”

Another breath--and he continues, again and again, reading your posts. Quoting your stories. Listing off the titles, the imagine posts, everything you’ve said about him.

All the while, bitter and mocking, his voice raising now and then in an imitation of your own. 

Then he gets to the last page of his clearly self-created tome and stares down at you, waiting, expectant. 

And you… you actually glare up at him. 

Because you're scared, sure. You’re always scared in some way, when you’re with Mahito. But there’s something else too, something that digs its way out of the rot in your gut and sticks up a petulant middle finger.

How dare he do this. How dare he take something that was yours and make it his; put it in his mouth and sneer over it. 

“Have you been--” Your mouth sticks together, refusing to let you accuse him of what you know he’s been doing. Stalking your online profiles. “That’s… that’s private,” is what you finally mutter, cheeks feeling hot and that half-buried petulance pushing you forward. “It’s not any of your business.” 

“Private?” He mutters the word softly, cradling the sound.

And then--

Mahito doesn’t often move fast around you. He prefers to be slow, languid. Calculating. You think it’s because that terrifies you more.

But now, in a moment, he goes from being slouched in his hammock to leaping down and crouching right in your face--there’s sudden pain in your head, and you realize he’s grabbed your hair and yanked it back.

That metaphorical middle finger sinks back down into the slimy gut sludge.

“Not from me,” he says, low, a warning. “Not for you.”

This is all it takes for tears to prick inside your eyes.

Mahito’s lips quirk up. Just a little. Just enough for you to notice.

“You’re going to cry already? I didn’t even do anything.”

Your eyes dart up and back, towards where he’s currently gripping your hair hard enough for it to sting.

He sighs through his nose. “This isn’t anything. You know that. Don’t be childish now.”

But--he lets go of your hair, and doesn’t grab for you when you scoot backwards on your blanket nest. Instead, he plops himself down, crossing his legs and resting his chin on his elbow.

You don’t speak. You don’t want to, and you don’t know what to say. Sometimes it’s better to be quiet around Mahito, so he doesn’t get ideas. Although he comes up with them on his own just fine, even if you try to stay silent.

It’s Mahito who breaks the silence.

“Why do you like him so much?”

How silly, to feel embarrassed right now. With the creature in front of you, and what he can do. But that’s what makes your cheeks burn: embarrassment. 

“I don’t know,” you mumble, because while you are stupid in so many ways, you’re still smart enough to know he wants an answer. “I guess I just like antagonist characters sometimes.” Well, most of the time. But it’s better to keep that from Mahito, if you can.

Mahito’s lips quirk here and there while he thinks. Then he looks at you with something like genuine confusion.

“You say that you like how awful he is. The awful things he does. So…” He tilts his head a little. “You should like me. Right?”

Your fingers pick at the loose threads of your clothes. Your eyes don’t meet his entirely--they flick up and down, from your legs to his face. 

“It’s not the same thing,” is what you come up with. But how to explain that to a curse?

Mahito frowns. 

“I don’t understand.” No bitterness, no pouting. A simple statement of fact.

“He’s not real.” You swallow against the minefield that all of this is making you step through, hoping you’ll avoid them. “But you are. That makes it different.” 

Mahito leans forward, grabbing your wrists, pulling you closer to him with a yanking, childish gesture.

“So you should like me more,” he says, a slight pout in his tone. “Because I can really do those things.” His eyebrows raise, and you swear you can hear a buzzing light bulb go off. “I could turn someone into a scarecrow for you.” He smiles, sudden, excited. “Do you want me to find some school children to torment?”

“No!” Your voice cracks. There are brief images in your mind--the people he’s tortured and killed, experimented with, before you were here and while you’re here and probably after you’re dead and gone--and you shake them away. 

Mahito’s eyebrows furrow. He groans and rolls his eyes backwards until they are entirely white, not in mockery or an attempt to scare you, but in irritation. Fingers squeeze your wrists briefly and let go, and you stay quiet, trying to fight your urge to cry, until Mahito slowly rolls his eyes back to stare at you.

His gaze flicks over you, until he catches your eyes with his. 

“You won’t write about him anymore.”

You don’t take a moment to answer this time.

“I won’t.”

“You won’t read those books anymore.”

“I won’t,” you stay. “I haven’t. I--don’t even have copies anymore.”

Mahito smiles, a little. Maybe it’s a good thing you never asked him to find you a copy, a thought which had been a brief temptation a while back.

And then he leans in closer again, until his nose touches yours.

“You won’t think about him anymore,” he says, quiet, solemn. Not an order but a matter of fact. 

You don’t answer. You swallow against a bitter taste in  your throat; you swear, sometimes, that the sludge in your gut is real and tries to make its way out sometimes.

Mahito presses his nose against yours until it starts to hurt.

“You won’t,” he says again, this time more to himself. “I’ll make sure of it.”

[outermaybanks]

possession - kinktober day three - stepcest + Rafe

a/n: pretend this isn't technically posted on nov 1 i wanted at least 3 kinktober fics i have learned my lesson next year i will pre-write at least 5 fics before oct

cw !! DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT - definitely dubcon, possessive rafe, backshots, step-siblings

You were only seven when your mom got married to your stepfather. She hadn’t taken you to meet him until they were engaged, so to your child brain, it felt like you gained 4 family members overnight. But even after the wedding, and the years following, there was one member of the family your mother put effort in keeping away from you: your stepbrother, Rafe. 

She never said it outright, no one really acknowledged it; the closest thing you got to some sort of undeniable proof was when Rafe offered to drive you to a party and your mom practically shouted at him that she wouldn’t allow that, an argument quickly breaking out until Ward just had to drive you. 

You don’t know why she insisted on keeping you two apart, maybe it was the way Rafe looked at you; maybe it was the way you looked at Rafe. By putting such effort in keeping you two distant, your mother succeeded in making you more curious in the boy. Like she dangled a carrot in front of you, then yanked it away. Sarah and Wheezie felt like siblings; so why didn’t Rafe?

Now that Ward was in a coma, your whole family minus Sarah uprooted, Rafe decided he was the man of the house,even going as far as to give himself a new hairstyle and hit the gym harder. But that didn’t stop your mom from trying to maintain control; especially when it came to you. 

“Y/N, clean up your shit, I’m tired of finding leggings in the bathroom” Rafe’s voice suddenly entered the living room before he threw your leggings at your head. You quickly tore them off, rolling your eyes at Rafe’s attitude, but then before you could even process what happened, his hand had a grip on your chin, fingers squeezing your cheeks to make you look at him. “What was that?”

You couldn’t reply, your heart racing as your eyes flickered between his, not to mention with how tight his grip on your face was, you doubt you could’ve gotten a coherent word out anyway.

“Hey, hey! What are you doing? Get away from her,” your mom shouted as she came into the living room. It was Rafe’s turn to roll his eyes as he reluctantly released his grip on you. “She needs to learn respect,” Rafe explained. “That’s not for you to decide. Go.” “Don’t talk to me like that, woman.”

It was like a stand-off. The air felt heavier, more intense now that Ward wasn’t here to get inbetween Rafe and your mom.

“It’s fine, mom, really,” you said, standing up from the couch and grabbing the leggings off the floor. “Good girl,” Rafe said quietly, but not softly. “No, no it is not fine. You do not touch her, got that?” Your mom challenged, turning her attention back to Rafe. “You’re not in charge of me.” Was all Rafe said before walking past your mother. She looked at you, almost apologetically, like this was somehow her fault, but you just walked upstairs to put your leggings in your hamper. 

That was the first time Rafe ever challenged your mother when it came to you. And he only grew more cocky as days passed. 

Rafe went out of town for business, at least that’s what your mother told you. He was gone for about a week, and when he came home in the middle of the day, seething, you had been home alone.

Rafe walked in like a man scorned, a man with an objective.

“Rafe? Mom said you would be gone for-” you couldn’t get the rest of your sentence out before Rafe took ahold of your face, fingers squishing your cheek as his large body backed you against the wall. “Shut the hell up,” he hissed. “Rafe-” “God, you just don’t know how to listen, do you? I said shut the hell up.”

Your eyes flickered between his, but not in fear, in wait; curious to see what he would do next. And Rafe took that as a challenge.

Without a word, he pulled your face forward to have enough momentum to push you over the arm of the couch, the impact knocked the wind out of you. Before you could even turn around, you heard the clinking of his belt.

“Rafe-” “Don’t play innocent. I see the way you look at me. I know you want this.”

You tried to stand up, Rafe just shoved you back down rougher, pulling his pants down to his knees before pressing himself against the flesh of your ass; the weight of him pinning you down.

“I know you feel the same way… and I know you feel this-” he rocked his hips so the tip of the tent in his boxer prodded against your traitor of a pussy. Before you could process what was happening, you felt a coolness hit you as Rafe pulled down your leggings and panties in one go. 

“Rafe- stop, this isn’t right-” “Fuck what’s right, you want it?” Rafe asked, rocking his hips more, his boxers starting to get a damp spot from your wetness. “I think she wants it…”

You let out a gasp at the feeling, your face felt hot with embarrassment, both at the betrayal of your body, and the realization his question posed. If Rafe wasn’t your step brother…

You didn’t have time to ponder, your breath caught in your throat as a strangled mix between a whine and a moan escaped at the feeling of Rafe’s thick cock pushing inside of you slowly. 

“Yeaahhhh, she fucking wanted it,” Rafe mumbled in a low voice. “Rafe!” “I know baby, s’okay… let me take care of it.”

You didn’t know if it was meant to refer to you, or his boner, but once you felt the stretch caused by him, you didn’t care, your brain practically mush as all your silly little daydreams from your horny middle school days came to life. You let out a soft moan when he started to move his hips.

“Mmmm that’s it, fucking take it,” Rafe seethed as his pace became merciless. “Rafe!” you cry out, a whiny moan following immediately after, your fingers digging into the plush of the couch. “Always knew I’d have you like this… now that your mommy isn’t here-” Rafe’s hand came down onto your ass and the sound of the slap rang in your ear. The sting of the skin perfectly complimenting the pleasure of him filling you. “Oh my god-” you breathed out like a sigh of relief as your body collapsed forward, but Rafe wrapped his thick bicep around your neck to pull you back up against him and keep you there.

“Stay right here, sweetheart… Be a good girl… so fuckin’ tight, what, those loser ain’t fuckin’ you right or somethin’?” Of course Rafe would find a way to give you shit while being balls deep inside of you. All you could do was whine in response. “Guess I gotta fuckin’ do everything ‘round here..”

His words made your walls flutter against him, and a low groan left his throat, his hand slapping your ass once more harshly gripping your hips to forcefully make you meet his thrusts. 

“Oh fuck- oh fuck- oh fuck-” you repeated yourself, too far gone to think of new words as he pushed you closer and closer to relief. “You gonna cum on your step brother’s dick, huh? Dirty girl… thought this was wrong? What would your mommy think?” You don’t know what disgusted you more, his words, or the effect they had on you, but all you could do was whine in response.

“Oh, baby girl doesn’t want to think about that?” Rafe’s pace increased, and never wavered. “What about Ward? Can’t wait to tell him how tight this pussy is-” “No- No-” You breathed out in a panic. Another slap on your ass. “There she is… let me hear you beg for it.” “Mmm- Rafe-” you whined breathlessly. “I said beg. Or I won’t let you cum,” Rafe pushed down on the small of your back to force you to arch, the tip of his dick deliciously hitting a new angle. “You’re so close… can feel it… can feel the way you're squeezin’ me.” 

“Please! Please, Rafe, let me-” “You can do better than that- c’mon, don’t make me stop-” his pace started to slow, eliciting a loud whine from you. “Nooo, please please please, don’t stop, Rafe!”

His pace tentatively increased, small whimpers and moans leaving you as all your resolve was officially gone, all you cared about was the feeling building in your stomach.

“There’s my good girl…” Rafe praised. You only muster a moan in response; trying to reach behind to pull him impossibly closer. Rafe hooked his arm around your throat, and pulled you up against his chest, his other arm crossing over your torso to hold you up. “Let me have it, baby… let me feel you cum on my cock.”

Your head fell back against Rafe’s shoulder, your eyes squeezing shut. Your hands reached behind you, desperate to hold onto him, something, anything. Your orgasm washed over your body like a wave, and Rafe’s relenting movements were the undertow, pulling you back for more and more.

“Oh- fuck- mmmm- fuuuucccckkk-” Rafe groaned as he came inside you, the warmth filling you being the exact thing you needed after the intense climax.

Rafe’s hold on you loosened, and you both slumped over the edge the couch, panting breathlessly. 

“I always get what I want, sweetheart. Everything- all of this… it’s all gonna be mine. And that includes you,” Rafe said softly, his fingers moving stray hairs behind your ear.

[modanisgf]

Hey pookie! can i request megan x fem reader story where megan starts getting attracted to reader and questioning her sexuality, so she distances herself from her and things get awkward between them, and when confronted about it she ends up confessing?

(can u tell the delusions are getting into my head lol)

— GOOD LUCK, BABE! , MEGAN SKIENDIEL

“YOU’D HAVE STOP THE WORLD, JUST TO STOP THE FEELING.”

✎ SYNOPSIS — in which megan doesn’t understand her feelings for you, causing her to act on them stupidly.

✎ PAIRING(S) — katseye!megan x 7th member!reader

✎ WARNING(S) — megan and reader are stupid asf, kissing, pacing is weird pls dont crucify me. 😓😓, and not proof read..

KATSEYE MASTERLIST

it all started in the dance practice room one day where you felt like you were about to die. you were ranting to daniela about how you needed to hit the gym more, making the girl laugh at you.

“y/n you’re fine, i’m sure practice will come a bit easier to you soon.” daniela says, the encouraging words making you smile.

you stretched and thanked the girl, your stretch causing your shirt to rise up a little. you didn’t even notice, but the ginger girl on the other side of the room did. a little too much.

megan could feel her cheeks heat up at the sight of you, making her mumble curses under her breath. she had no idea why you made her feel so nervous, it had only started happening recently once the two of you got closer.

sure megan could recognize your beauty even in the dream academy days, but it never stood out to her as much as it did now. the way your smile never failed to brighten her day, the way your eyes shine whenever someone mentioned your interests, or even the way your eyebrows furrowed in anger whenever you messed up in a game were enough to make her feel attracted to you. wait— what was she even thinking? she doesn’t like girls, right?

lara was concerned about her ginger roommate as the girl seemed heavily lost in fault, “megan hello?” she says placing a hand on the girls shoulder.

“oh sorry.” megan says, finally being taken out of her thoughts.

“are you okay?” lara asks, to which megan nods.

"i just got distracted." megan says, giving lara a nervous smile. she knew lara wouldn't judge her for whatever she felt for you, but she still wanted to keep it under wraps for a bit.

"mmmhmm." lara says dragging out the word, making megan groan.

"i'm not telling you lara."

"you're so fake!"

—

the next instance was actually how lara figured out why megan had been acting so weirdly. it was in the evening and the katz were all eating dinner together around their kitchen. everyone seemed to be enjoying their time, while you were actually kind of upset, megan had been pretty much ignoring you all day.

you tried to talk to her but no matter what you did she would just slowly walk away, and talk to another one of your members. you knew it shouldn’t bother you this much, but you couldn’t help but feel jealous when you saw megan and lara together laughing. you wanted that to be you and megan together, just like it used to be.

little did you know, the two were actually deep in conversation about you. megan was ranting about how she felt around you recently, making lara laugh.

“so you like her?” lara asks, to which megan nods not thinking.

she only realized once the girl beside her gasped, making her backtrack on her words.

"i meant like! as a friend, or— i don't even know." megan sighs, giving up on trying to explain herself.

"she just makes me feel so nervous, and it's so confusing. i have no idea if i'm in love with her or she intimidates me." megan says, holding her head in hands out of stress. she moves quickly though to take a bite of her food, she was too focused on her conversation though missing the small mess she made.

"those are pretty different feelings girl." lara says, making megan glare at her.

"i'm actually gonna fight you." megan deadpans, making lara laugh again. (she found megan's suffering a little too funny.)

megan was too busy glaring at lara who was now on the floor dying to notice that you were now right next to her, the sound of your voice making her yelp.

"oh my god sorry megan." you apologize quickly, raising your hands up in front of you as if you were defending yourself.

"it's okay y/n." megan says, sighing in relief.

"can you look at me?" you say abrutly, confusing megan.

"um okay?" she replies, turning towards you.

you held up a napkin to her face, carefully wiping it making sure to not startle her.

"okay thank you." you say smiling, "it was bothering me sorry." you say sheepishly, somehow not noticing how red the girl in front of you was.

the close proximity between you two in that moment made megan feel like heart was going to stop with how fast it was beating. megan stared into your eyes for a moment letting herself admire you before she shook her head mentally, coming back to present time.

“it’s fine, thank you.” megan says, finally replying to you.

she gave you a small smile that melted your heart, you made an effort to return it before being cut off by megan herself. she moved away from you to put her dish in the washer, speaking up soon after.

“i think i’m gonna go to bed early, goodnight guys!” megan announces, waving to her members before heading down the hallway to her room.

all of your members waved back, calling out goodnight to her except you. you stood there dumbfounded, and once again you felt upset. did you do something wrong? why was she being so distant?

you needed an answer. you ran towards the hallway not even wasting a second to explain anything to your members, leaving confused expressions of all of their faces except lara.

“is everything okay?” sophia asks, getting shrugs from all of her members.

she turned to lara to see an unreadable expression on the girls face, it finally making sense once she spoke up.

“something is about to go down.” lara says simply, leaving a concerned expression on sophia’s face.

meanwhile you knocked on megan’s door, a bit too hard making the girl jump.

“i’m trying to sleep!” megan shouts, she was confused as to who was bothering her. she knew it couldn’t be lara she wouldn’t have knocked.

all of her confusion was wiped away once she heard your voice, her heart dropping to her ass.

“it’s me megan.” you respond.

“i-“

“can i please come in?”

megan sat up on her bed before speaking, “yeah.” she states, beginning to prepare herself to see your face again.

you open the door almost seconds after her response, the look on your face making megan’s heart break.

you looked so unbelievably upset, it looked like you hadn’t gotten much sleep lately either dark circles now lining your eyes that she failed to notice earlier. was this her fault? or who were you mad at? a thousand questions ran through her brain, before you interrupted her train of thought.

“megan.” you deadpan, your ominous tone made megan nervous looking everywhere but you.

“look at me please.” you say, looking at her softly now. you knew you couldn’t be angry with her for long, her pretty face always drew you in.

megan looked at you like you asked, the intimacy of the moment making her cheeks heat up again. it was a sweet moment until you spoke again, all of megans previous feelings disappearing almost instantly.

“why have you been ignoring me?” you ask, failing to mask the hurt look on your face from the ginger girl in front of you.

“what?” megan says, she didn’t know why she was acting dumb but it felt like an easier escape in her mind.

“why have you been ignoring me megan? i can’t ever talk to you without you walking away or making some dumb excuse.” you say firmly, you needed her to listen to your words and not just neglect them anymore.

“y/n i—“ megan starts, stopping herself for a moment.

she felt so nauseous, regardless of her getting confronted by her crush right now you were also so close to her. it seemed wrong to say in the time but you looked so pretty in that moment, the way your brows furrowed in frustration and how your hands were clutching her blanket tightly and— wait. megan scolded herself mentally, straightening her posture as she remembered you were waiting for an answer.

megan had no idea how to explain the truth though, how was she supposed to tell you the reason she avoided you was because she had a huge crush on you? a crush so bad that every time you got close to her, made any sweet gestures towards her, or even something as small as smiling at her she wanted to curl up in a ball and die out of happiness.

“megan, hellooo?” you say, shaking her gently.

“oh sorry.” megan mumbles quietly, just loud enough for you to hear.

“i just.” megan starts, looking down and then back at up at you. your eyes locked, making her even more anxious.

“y/n i really like you. like in a romantic way, and it’s okay if you don’t feel the same you know cause i wouldn’t wanna ruin our friendship! youhavetoseemeeverydaytooican’timagine—!” megan says so fast you can barely understand what she was saying.

“megan.” you say, a smile growing across your face.

you took her hand into yours, not missing the way her eyes lit up.

“i like you too, a lot actually.” you say sheepishly, looking away from megan in embarrassment.

“oh.” was all that megan could muster out, her voice wavering even after just trying to say one word.

you giggle at your crush or whatever you two were, her nervous state making you rub circles onto her thumb. there were a couple beats of silence before your thoughts got the best of you.

“can i kiss you?” you blurt, your hand instantly going to cover you mouth. you attempted to apologize, quickly being cut off by megan.

“yeah.” she stated simply, her eyes locked onto your lips.

you gave the girl a quick peck, before she pulled you in for more wrapping her arms around your waist. you put your arms around her neck, deepening the kiss. it went on for a bit longer, before you both pulled away for air.

you placed a hand on megan’s cheek, laughing at how stupid you two were. she tightened her grip on your waist, making you smile.

“i should’ve known, i saw you staring at me during practice you know?” you say, your laugh growing louder at the shocked expression on megan’s face.

“huh?!” she yelps, turning away from you in embarrassment.

“you aren’t as subtle as you think pretty girl.” you say, running your hands through megan’s hair.

“shut up…” megan mumbles.

“so… does this mean we’re girlfriends now?” megan asks, trying to smoothly change the topic giving you a bright smile.

“megan, we just sat here and kissed for five minutes?”

“is that a no?..”

“oh my god.”

[persevereforahappyending]

This isn't Your Fault (Tara POV)

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: “Tara, Tara, Tara,” the voice cracked through the speaker. Tara would recognize that voice changer anywhere, Ghostface.

Warnings: Violence

Word Count: 6k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Tara stormed down the hall, slamming her door in her sisters’ face. All she wanted was to have a fun night at a party and Sam just had to show up and ruin it, as usual. She struggled swinging her purse off her shoulder before slamming it onto her dresser. She paced back and forth before flopping face down on her bed, letting out a loud groan.

Almost instantly she got up from her bed, making her way over to her dresser again. She started digging through her purse until she found her phone. She scrolled through her contacts, not able to stop the small smile from forming on her lips when she came across your name. She hit your name, pacing back and forth less agitated while she waited for you to answer.

Tara had asked you to go to the party even though she knew you’d say no. She tried to convince you that it was a costume party and that it would be more fun. You hadn’t bought it. Tara couldn’t blame you, with the way the night turned out she wished she hadn’t gone and had just gone over to your place, forcing you to binge all her favorite horror movies.

“Hey, babe,” your voice cracked through the phone in greeting. “How was the party?”

Tara smiled to herself, most of her initial anger melting away just from hearing your voice. She called you to rant and complain about her sister though, so she quickly groaned, telling you how her overprotective sister tased a guy. You questioned whether you heard her right and Tara happily explained the night’s events.

When she told you what happened your first question was to ask if she was okay. Tara loved that about you. She smiled into her phone, her voice softening as she confirmed that she was in fact okay. She probably should have worded what happened better, she should have known you would be instantly worried when she said some guy tried to force her upstairs.

You expressed your gratitude that Chad was there and fought the guy for her. You had never officially met Chad, only seeing him at parties but Tara told you all about him and the others. You admitted besides Sam you were most intimidated to meet Chad. Chad wasn’t overbearing like Sam, but he was still pretty overprotective. Anytime Tara told you about an incident and Chad stepping in you had nothing but nice things to say about him, you always told her whenever you got to officially meet him, you’d thank him.

“I just want a normal life,” Tara said after telling you when Sam decided to step in. Tara frowned, dropping down onto her bed. Tara didn’t want three horrible days to define the rest of her life, she just wanted to move on from it all.

“I know,” you said. Tara knew you understood. You’d never been in a Ghostface attack, thankfully, but Tara knew you understood. You always sat there listening to her rant and complain about Sam. You never dismissed her own feelings about wanting to move on, you just listened. “You know she just wants to keep you safe though, right?”

When Tara let out a groan you laughed, it almost made her laugh as well. “I know,” she mumbled begrudgingly, standing up again to kick at her carpet. She knew Sam just wanted to keep her safe. She wanted the same thing. She would do anything to protect Sam. She just wanted Sam to loosen the leash a little bit.

“This is just the exact reason why I won’t introduce you,” she continued, throwing her hands in the air. “She wants me to open up and share with her but when I try to have a life outside of the friend group, she tases someone!” Tara continued her rant.

“Whenever you decide to introduce me, I’m sure it will go fine,” you said sweetly.

Tara wanted you to meet her sister, her friends, her family. She wanted to be able to invite you over and hangout with everyone. She didn’t want to have to sneak around and only see you when Sam was working late or during classes she didn’t share with Mindy.

“I’m sure I won’t get tased, right?” you continued, chuckling as if you were making a joke but weren’t sure if it was actually a joke.

“Maybe,” Tara couldn’t help but mumble. She couldn’t help but smile to herself when you paused. Tara was certain Sam wouldn’t tase you, probably. “Just stand behind me when that eventual meeting happens,” she said, trying to calm your nerves.

“My fearless protector,” you joked softly.

“Shut up,” Tara rolled her eyes with a smile.

As much as Tara wanted you to meet Sam and the others, she also wanted to keep you all to herself. She wasn’t worried they’d steal you away or anything. No, she was worried they’d scare you away. Tara knew that was a stupid thought, you knew exactly what you were getting into, at least for the most part. You knew who Tara was when you met in your shared class, but you didn’t treat her any different, you treated her like a normal new person you were meeting. You didn’t ask about Woodsboro, or Ghostface, or even her scars. Your eyes glanced at the scar on her hand when you first introduced yourself, but you didn’t let them linger on her scars, your eyes quickly flicked to her eyes, a soft smile on your face as you told her your name.

You also knew all about her friends, how protective Chad was and how paranoid Mindy was. You actually got firsthand experience in Mindy’s paranoia when you worked with Anika on a project for the first time together. The girls had come over to the apartment, well Mindy stormed in, lovingly planting Anika in the chair and began interrogating her about you. Tara had been scrolling through her phone, her thumb freezing at the mention of your name. She talked to you a few times in class and had been developing a small crush on you but was nervous to make a move. When Anika had nothing but nice things to say about you, she decided to say fuck it and give it a shot.

You definitely knew how protective Sam was. Tara felt like she complained about her sister every day. When she saw you in class, she used the few minutes of getting there early to say hi, give you a kiss, then got right into telling you about what new thing Sam had done to disrupt her from trying to live her life. You always listened with a smile, admitting it was a bit overprotective but then asking if Tara could really blame her. Tara would always mumble how you were right, and she knew Sam meant well but she still wanted to complain about her.

Tara had been smiling, silently chuckling along as you laughed when it suddenly stopped. She strained her ears trying to hear anything on the other end of the line but couldn’t hear a thing. She knew you were still on the phone, but you had just all of a sudden stopped laughing and you weren’t saying anything. Tara’s smile fell, fear creeping up her spine.

“You, okay?” Tara asked. She swallowed, trying to calm herself down before she started panicking and would end up needing her inhaler. You were fine, you were at home. There was no reason for Tara to start panicking for no reason.

“Yeah,” you finally answered. Tara wasn’t convinced, you sounded distracted, your voice a little distant as if something else had your attention. “Yeah,” you repeated, sounding more like yourself. “So, what’s planned for the rest of the night?”

Tara paused, you sounded like yourself and as if everything were fine, but you were trying to change the subject. “Sleep,” Tara mumbled, still trying to figure out what could distract you so much. “I’m already starting to feel this hangover. Can I come over tomorrow?” She shook off her worried feelings, if something were seriously wrong, you’d tell her.

“Is that a good idea?” You asked. “I doubt Sam will want you out of her sight after tonight.”

“Fuck what she wants. I miss you,” Tara whined, flopping herself down on her bed.

She knew you were right, sneaking around after what happened would be a lot harder. The smart thing would be to wait for things to cool down and just see each other in class. Tara was tired of only seeing you in class though. She hadn’t gotten to truly spend alone time with you in over a week. She was already thinking of lies she could tell Sam, like that she had to study at the library or stay after for a project or something.

“Tara,” you said, incredibly calm but Tara could hear the seriousness in your voice, she furrowed her brow at it. “This isn’t your fault.”

“What?” she asked, confused, sitting up at the end of her bed.

Tara heard something slam, a lot of shuffling, and then the phone clatter down onto something hard. She shot to her feet, beginning to pace back and forth. She could feel her heart beating faster. She moved over to her purse, grabbing her inhaler.

“Y/N?” she asked, quietly, listening as hard as she could for anymore movement. “Y/N. Y/N!” no answer.

She heard what sounded like metal against metal. Her breath caught in her throat. She lifted her inhaler to her mouth, taking a huff. She mindlessly moved, opening her door, and stepping out into the hall. She walked into the living room as if she were in some sort of trance. Mindy and Anika were sitting closely on the couch, Chad next to them, flipping through channels. Sam was sitting in the chair across from them, head in her hands.

“You good T?” Mindy asked.

Tara didn’t answer, she didn’t even look towards her. Tara kept the phone to her ear, hearing what sounded like a struggle on the other end. It sounded like someone picked up the phone again, but no one was talking. There was the sound of wood cracking, Tara couldn’t help but flinch at the sound.

Sam stood up, moving around the chair, looking at her sister with concern. “Tara?” Sam asked slowly. “Who’s on the phone?” Everyone stopped breathing, their full focus moving to the two sisters.

Tara shifted her gaze from staring at the blank spot on the wall to her sister. Sam was becoming blurry as unshed tears began filling her eyes. She heard stomping up the steps then a door slam. Then nothing. No sound. Nothing.

Tara wanted to ask you if everything was okay. She wanted to know what was happening. Her mind was going crazy, it was going to the worst-case scenario. She needed to find her voice, she needed to make sure you were alright.

“Y/N?” Tara asked in a shaky voice. She swallowed again, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Y/N?” she asked louder.

Sam scrunched her eyebrows looking at the others. Anika stood up, recognizing your name. Mindy furrowed her brow, moving to stand up behind Anika, wrapping a protective arm around her. Chad set the remote down, leaning forward on the couch. He looked at Sam, shrugging.

“Baby, are you there?” Tara asked, her voice becoming desperate. She continued to ignore the shocked and confused faces of her friends. There was still no answer though.

There was a loud pounding coming from the other side of the phone. Tara jumped with each hit. She didn’t move though, she stood frozen in the living room. Her voice went away again, she couldn’t even call out your name. Tears quickly filled her eyes again, her breathing becoming erratic. Sam quickly made her way over to her sister, gripping her by the shoulders to look her in the eyes and get her to focus on something else but Tara looked right through her.

The pounding stopped, everything becoming silent again. Tara held her breath, hoping you’d answer her, that you’d pick up the phone and say you dropped something. Tara wasn’t ready to admit what was happening, but she knew, she knew.

There was a struggle again, a light grunt coming through the speaker as if someone had fallen. Tara sucked in a breath. Her mind was trying to rationalize everything, say that there was no way he could be back, but the grunt didn’t sound like it came from you, it sounded deeper, like from a guy. There was a louder thud as the phone seemed to hit something hard again.

There was some shuffling, then what sounded like someone picking up the phone again. Tears started to fall from her eyes. It wasn’t you on the other end of the line anymore. There was heavy breathing coming from the speaker. Breathing that sounded slightly distorted.

“Tara, Tara, Tara,” the voice cracked through the speaker. Tara would recognize that voice changer anywhere, Ghostface.

“Don’t hurt them, please,” Tara begged, letting out a small sob.

Tara was vaguely aware of movement in the room, but she wasn’t focused on that. Ghostface was back and he was at your house. Ghostface was with you and Tara wasn’t there. Tara was twenty minutes away in her apartment. Tara was completely useless. While you were getting attacked Tara was doing nothing.

“You really should have listened to your sister,” Ghostface sighed through the voice changer. “Not gotten close to anyone.”

“Please! She has nothing to do with this!” Tara sobbed into the phone

“Sure, she does, you care about her. Now she’s just as involved as you.”

Tara was full on sobbing. She was completely unaware of her sister and friends already on the move, standing up at the ready to rush off wherever they needed to go. “Please,” Tara begged.

“Don’t worry.” Tara could tell Ghostface was smirking. “I’ll keep the line open so you can hear the death of your lover, the way they gurgle as they choke on their own blood. It’s gonna be quite the sound,” he chuckled, the voice changer making it sound demonic.

“No!”

Sam tried to reach over and grab the phone out of Tara’s hand, but she swatted her away. She turned her back on her friends, moving more out of reach from Sam’s hands. She heard a thud, then another thud of someone hitting the ground. Ghostface must have lost the phone because Tara heard it skid across the wood floor.

Someone gripped Tara by the shoulder, turning her back around. She was ready to fight, a fist already forming, ready to deck whoever dared touch her in their face. She released her fist when she saw it was just Sam. She tried to turn away again but Sam held her firmly in place.

“We have to go,” Sam said.

Tara shook her head violently. “I can’t,” she said through sobs. “I-I-I-can’t. I-”

Sam placed something in her free hand. When Tara looked down, she saw her inhaler. Sam gently helped guide her hand up towards her mouth. Tara was able to finish the rest of the motion, bringing the inhaler to her lips and giving herself another huff. Her heart was still beating rapidly but her breathing had calmed down.

“Let’s go,” Sam said calmly, not losing the worry for Tara she still clearly felt. “We can’t help here. Let’s go.” Tara silently nodded, following Sam towards the front door. “Chad!”

“Already calling 911,” he responded, phone at his ear.

“Anika-”

“Already texted you her address,” she said softly. Tara finally looked at her, really looked at her, seeing tears in her eyes as well even if she only had a partial idea as to what was happening.

Sam gently pulled Tara out the door, making sure to lock it as they rushed down the steps, taking two steps at a time. Sam ran to the street corner, flagging down a taxi. Tara slid into the backseat right behind her. Sam already had her phone out, giving the driver the address.

Tara heard heavy boots walking across the floor, passing the phone wherever it had landed. There was a moment of silence before your scream echoed through the phone. Tara had to take it away from her ear slightly because your scream had been so loud. Tears were streaming down her face; she couldn’t get a grip on her breathing.

“No!” cut through the phone, followed by several muted thuds.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Sam said, tilting Tara’s head to face her. “Breath,” she said softly, taking a deep breath in then letting it out.

Tara tried but wasn’t able to do the same. Every time she tried to calm her breathing it just got worse. She brought the inhaler to her mouth again, taking another huff. She closed her eyes, her breathing once again becoming steady.

Tara heard you gasping for breath. It seemed like Ghostface was right, she was going to listen to you die, choking to death on your own blood, just as he promised. There was a loud crunch then the phone went dead.

Tara slowly took the phone away from her ear, she looked down to see the disconnected call. She looked to Sam, more tears spilling out of her eyes. “I can’t lose her,” Tara whispered between sobs, shaking her head. “I can’t. I can’t,” she kept repeating.

Sam pulled Tara into a hug, holding her as Tara sobbed into her shoulder. The cab screeched to a halt. Tara let go of Sam, jumping out of the cab and running to the door before the car had fully stopped. Tara flung open your front door, the knife mark in the door being the first thing that caught her eye. She started to bring a hand to her mouth when she heard a strained cough, turning to see you lying on the floor.

“Y/N!” she shouted. She rushed over to you, sliding across the floor to be by your side. She hesitated, gently placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

Tara’s head snapped to the door when she heard a creak, it was just Sam running after her. Sam entered the house, taking in the damage. She did a quick glance around the place, making sure Ghostface wouldn’t pop out at them before making her way over to Tara.

Tara’s eyes filled with tears as she took in your form. Her eyes found your crushed hand that you were clutching against yourself. She heard the wheezing from not being able to properly breath. Her eyes scanned your face, seeing your eye lids try to remain open. Her eyes trailed down the rest of your body, stopping when she saw the bat lying motionlessly at your side.

“Baby,” she whispered. “I’m here, I’m right here.” Your eyelids started to drift close. “Hey, no, stay awake baby,” she whispered loudly. “Stay awake.” Your eyes closed. The only thing that let Tara know you were still alive was the shallow ragged breaths you let out.

The next thing Tara knew there were red and blue flashing lights outside the front window and paramedics storming through the door. Tara didn’t want to leave your side, but she wasn’t able to fight off Sam who easily pulled her away from you. Sam pulled her to her feet, if it wasn’t for Sam’s arms around her Tara was sure she’d crumble back to the floor.

The medics checked you out before lifting you onto a back board. They strapped you down and carried you off to the ambulance. Tara started to follow but Sam held her back until they were clear from the door. Once they were out the door with you Tara wiggled out of Sam’s grip and ran for you. She started to climb into the back of the ambulance with you but one of the paramedics held out his hand, shaking his head. She stepped back down from the ambulance, frowning as she lost sight of you when they closed the doors, instantly speeding off to the hospital.

“We can meet her there,” Sam said softly, gently touching Tara’s arm, as to not startle her.

Tara wordlessly followed her sister as she flagged down another cab, slumping back against the seat as the driver took them to the hospital. She was aware of her sister constantly glancing at her, but she stared straight ahead out the window.

This isn’t your fault. Those were the last words you had said to her. The last thing you told her was that it wasn’t her fault. You were about to be attacked by Ghostface, for all you knew you were about to die but you didn’t ask for help, you didn’t hang up and call 911, no, you told Tara it wasn’t her fault. Tara was confused when you said those words and now, she just didn’t believe you. You had been attacked by Ghostface. Your life was on the line. If you had never met her, if Tara had just followed Sam’s lead and had never let you in, you wouldn’t be where you are now. Tara couldn’t see how this possibly wasn’t her fault. It was her fault; it was all her fault, and she knew it.

When they got to the hospital Tara planted herself in the waiting room and didn’t intend to move until she was allowed in the same room as you, then she wasn’t leaving your side. They had rushed to the reception desk, asking about you and were told you were being wheeled into surgery to assess the damage done.

Tara had her feet on the chair, wrapping her arms around her legs, pulling them as close to her body as she rested her chin on her knees. She stared at the white wall in front of her, barely feeling Sam rub a comforting hand up and down her back. She glanced to the side when she heard shoes quickly squeaking against the tile and abruptly coming to a stop, it was her friends. Chad offered her a comforting smile, taking the vacant seat next to her. Anika came over, holding out her hand to give Tara’s a comforting squeeze before moving to the seats across from her, with Mindy quickly joining her.

After a few hours they were still in the same spot. Anika was asleep, her head resting on Mindy’s shoulder. Mindy had her eyes shut but Tara knew she wasn’t actually asleep yet. Chad had made a cafeteria run, bringing back everyone sandwiches and juice. He plopped back down in his seat, holding out a juice and sandwich to Tara but she shook her head.

“You have to eat,” Sam whispered softly, rubbing her hand up and down Tara’s back again. Tara shook her head, pushing the food away. Sam sighed, silently thanking Chad before taking the food from him.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” the nurse said, coming out to the waiting room finally.

Everyone woke up, jumping to their feet. “Is she okay?” Tara asked, her voice cracking from the lack of being used the last few hours.

“Relation?”

“She’s, my girlfriend.”

The nurse nodded. “She’s out of surgery and is in a room recovering, you’re welcome to go see her.”

“How is she?” Tara whispered quietly, looking up at the nurse with wide eyes. She wanted to be hopeful, but she was so scared of allowing herself to think everything would be okay.

The nurse sighed, resting the chart she was holding at her side. “She’s alive.” Tara let out a relieved sob. “Her left hand was practically shattered, and she’s got seven broken or cracked ribs.” Tara let out another sob. “It’ll take some time, but she’ll be okay,” the nurse smiled down reassuringly at Tara.

Chad gave her a squeeze on the shoulder, Mindy gave her a comforting smile and a nod letting her know everything was okay, and Anika stepped forward, pulling Tara into a hug. They weren’t all allowed to go into your room, so the others were going to continue hanging out in the waiting room for a bit longer while Tara and Sam went into your room.

Tara sped walked through the hallways, pressing the button to the elevator until the doors finally opened. Once in the elevator Tara hit the floor you were on, her leg bouncing the entire ride up until the doors opened again. Tara was already stepping out of the elevator the second she could squeeze through the opening. Sam quickly trailed behind her sister, trying to get her to slow down but Tara was on a mission, and nothing would keep her from being at your bedside.

Tara stopped in the doorway of your hospital room. She was paralyzed at the sight of you unmoving in the hospital bed. You were pale and had your left arm in a cast as it rested across your stomach. Tara lifted her foot but hesitated to officially cross over the invisible threshold of the room. Sam poked her shoulder, when Tara turned to glare at her sister, she gave an encouraging nod. Tara took a deep breath before stepping down, officially entering the room.

Tara moved to the other side of your bed, pulling up one of the chairs, getting it as close to your bed as possible. She sat down, instantly reaching for your uninjured hand. Feeling your warm hand in her even if it couldn’t grip hers back yet, along with the consistent beeping of the heart monitor connected to you gave Tara a peace she didn’t know she was looking for. Despite the nurse saying you would be okay, seeing you alive for herself lifted an incredible wait off her shoulders. Sam slowly made her way over, sitting in the chair next to Tara’s.

“H-how long?” Sam whispered.

Tara didn’t take her eyes off your sleeping form; she was afraid if she looked away, you’d disappear. “Six months,” Tara answered with a sniffle.

“Six,” Sam let out a shaky breath. “Six months. You’ve been keeping this from us, from me?”

Tara’s eyes dropped from your face to your hand in hers, even if you couldn’t grip it back yet. She could hear the hurt in Sam’s voice. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, rubbing her nose.

Sam sighed. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Have I really pushed you away that much?” Sam’s voice cracked. “Did you really feel like you couldn’t come to me, share this with me?”

Tara squeezed your hand, not letting go as she turned to look at her sister, tears filling her eyes again. She saw Sam had a few tears in her eyes as well. “No, no, no, it’s not that,” she tried to reassure her sister. “I just…” Tara tried gathering her words, she knew why she kept you her little secret but, in the moment, saying it out loud to Sam made it seem so stupid. “I just, I was afraid how you’d react,” she mumbled, dropping her eyes to the floor. “You tend to get a little… intense,” her eyes flicked up to Sam’s before going back to the floor, “when meeting new people. Not like the others are much better. I just didn’t want you guys to scare her off.”

“We wouldn’t-” she was cut off by Tara raising a brow, daring her to finish that sentence. “I mean if she was important to you, I would have given her a chance.” Tara tilted her head, giving her sister an ‘are you serious’ look. “Okay fine,” Sam sighed, slumping back in her chair. “I would have tried to give her a chance.” Tara raised both eyebrows, giving her another knowing look. “Eventually,” Sam mumbled. “Maybe.”

Tara felt a smile tug at her lips. It was hard to smile given the current situation, but she allowed herself the small smile at her sister’s behavior. Sam could be absolutely terrifying if she wanted to be but when she was pouting like she was now she wasn’t terrifying, she was just adorable. This was the Sam, she wanted you to get to know, not the one that had her guard up a hundred percent of the time and saw danger and betrayal around every corner.

“I know you mean well,” Tara said, smiling. “You know I love you.” Sam smiled at her sisters’ words. “I just liked having something for myself,” Tara whispered, her smile falling. “Someone who was all mine.” She glanced back at your broken body. “Someone not touched by all our darkness, until now,” she sniffled again, using her free hand to wipe her eyes.

“This isn’t your fault,” Sam said, leaning forward to rest a hand on Tara’s shoulder.

“If she never met me, he never would have gone after her.”

“That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is!” Tara sobbed.

“You can’t live your life controlled by fear about what might happen.” Tara turned to look at Sam, scrunching her brow, she couldn’t believe Sam just said that. Sam chuckled awkwardly. “I know how that sounds coming from me, but I don’t want you sacrificing your chance at happiness just because I’m paranoid.”

Tara turned her attention back towards you. She reached up, gently brushing your hair down the side of your face. “I thought I lost her.”

“Good thing your girlfriend is one hell of a fighter,” Sam smirked, making Tara smile softly when she glanced back at her. “I know this isn’t exactly how you wanted it to go, so when you decide to officially introduce us, I can’t wait to meet her.”

“She can’t wait to meet you either, I’ve told her all about you,” Tara blushed. “When we were talking on the phone before-” Tara swallowed, trying to stop herself from crying again. “She-she was worried you might tase her when you met,” Tara chuckled at the memory even though it had only been a few hours, it felt like years.

Sam lightly chuckled at that, nodding as if that was a potential possibility. “Well, no need to worry about that anymore. At least we know she’s not Ghostface.”

Tara clenched her jaw at hearing that name, she gripped your hand just a little tighter. She glanced at Sam out of the side of her eye. “I want to make him pay,” she said through gritted teeth, anger taking over her worry for a split second.

“We will,” Sam said, nodding.

Tara gave nod back. She looked back at you. She was going to make Ghostface pay for what he had done to you and if there was more than one, she would make them all suffer. She would figure out which one of them had harmed you and she would deliver him the same honor.

It was the next day, and you still hadn’t woken up. Tara refused to leave your side, opting to sleep in the chair at your bedside. She tried telling Sam to go home but Sam refused. Tara knew it was pointless to argue, Ghostface was still out there and there was no way Sam would leave her side until he was dealt with. It took a lot of convincing, but the others finally went back to the apartment, agreeing to stick together, keep in touch, and even came back an hour later to drop off a change of clothes for the girls.

It was late into the next night, Tara was asleep in her chair, holding your hand just as tight as she had been since she first got into the room with you. Sam was in the corner of the room, having pulled two chairs together, to make her own little bed. Tara stirred from her slumber when she heard someone hiss in pain. Her eyes snapped open when she heard you suck in a breath. She instantly sat up, offering you all the comfort she could, needing you to know you weren’t in danger anymore, that she was here, and you were safe.

“Wh-what are you doing here?” you asked, your mouth dry from the lack of water in the last twenty-four hours.

“I needed to make sure you were okay,” Tara answered, confused as to where else she would be. You were attacked, injured, having almost died, of course she was going to be at your bedside. She was aware of Sam leaving the room, gently shutting the door as to not disturb your reunion.

“You-you need to get out of town.” Tara could tell you were fighting through the pain to talk to her.

“No, no, I’m not leaving you,” she shook her head, she couldn’t believe you suggested that. Actually, she could but you should have known that she’d never leave your side when you were hurt, just as you had kept quiet when you were getting attacked, to protect her. “I’m not leaving you.” She made sure to look you in the eye, so you knew she was serious.

“How are you feeling?” Tara asked. She knew it was a stupid question, she had been in your position before and she hated when people had asked her that, of course she was doing bad, she had been stabbed, how else should she have been doing?”

“If I sit completely still and don’t breathe then the pain is only agonizing, instead of excruciating,” you said, trying to lighten the mood.

“I’m sorry,” Tara started to cry again. Your attempts at lighting the mood didn’t work. She loved you but she couldn’t stand hearing you joke about your own pain; she knew it wasn’t fully a joke. She couldn’t hear you try to make light of it when she was the reason you were in pain.

“This wasn’t your fault,” you tried to lean up but quickly laid back against the pillows. Tara sobbed at seeing you in so much pain from such a basic movement. “Please don’t cry,” you tried brushing away her tears, but they kept falling. “This isn’t your fault.”

“If it wasn’t for me, you never would have been targeted,” her voice cracked. Despite what Sam said she knew it was true, if it weren’t for her, you never would have been attacked. She couldn’t believe you were trying to comfort her. You were lying in a hospital bed, just breathing causing you pain, and yet you were the one comforting her. You were using what little energy you had to try and convince her it wasn’t her fault.

“No, no, it’s not your fault a psycho wants to hurt you. This isn’t on you. I love you.” Tara felt you reach down, gently lifting her chin to make her meet your eyes. “I love you,” you whispered again.

“I love you too,” Tara instantly said back, resting her forehead against yours. A few more tears silently fell and despite not believing your words you still had somehow managed to comfort her, she didn’t know how you did it.

Tara talked for a few more minutes with you, talking about officially meeting her sister now at some point. She had made a joke and watched as you winced in pain. She felt bad that she caused you pain even if it was unintentional, but she couldn’t help but smile down at you. She couldn’t believe you were here, that you were beside her, you were okay.

Tara started running her fingers through your hair. You had just woken up after being unconscious for a whole day, but you were already struggling to keep your eyes open. She watched you with a soft smile as your eyes slowly closed, this time peacefully going off to sleep. Tara kept gently stroking your hair as she laid her head next to yours. She couldn’t lay in bed next to you with your broken ribs, afraid she’d hurt you by simply cuddling you, so laying her head next to yours was the next best thing, being as close as she could get to you without having to worry about hurting you.

Taglist: @bigbadsofty07

[pitchsidestories]

know that you're not alone II Leah Williamson x Reader

Masterlist I word count: 2279

“You know, you can always tell me what’s going on in your mind…“ Leahs words made you look up in surprise. You hadn’t even noticed that you were lost in your own thoughts. With a sigh, you sat up a bit straighter on your team mates couch; “It’s just…“

“It’s what?“, Leah prompted you to continue. She was sitting on the opposite side of her living room on a piano stool. You also didn’t notice that she had stopped practicing.

“I’m not where I thought I would be with 26… and it seems like everyone else has got it all figured out with with marriage and kids…“, you explained truthfully. Leah smiled empathetically at you; “Trust me, no one’s got it all figured out yet.“

“Well, you do.“, you shrugged in response, taking in her perfectly tied pony tail. “I do? I have nothing figured out.“, the defender laughed. You pointed at the piano; “Your career is flying and I don’t know how you manage all the things you do at the moment.“

She was currently learning to play the piano for a performance with the BBC Concert Orchestra and you couldn’t help but be impressed by her eagerness. “I don’t have it either. I don’t manage all these things by myself.“, Leah replied, shaking her head.

A moment of silence passed between you two. “I’m so sick of it, Lee.“, you complained. “Okay, wait.“, Leah started, turning back to her piano but you interrupted her; “No, why don’t those things matter too? That we play for a great club? Have amazing friendships?“ “It does matter. We might not get measured by that but it does.“, Leah replied, before you could continue your rant.

As she played the first notes on her piano, you looked at her in confusion; “What are you doing?“ Your team mate remained silent and carried on playing. You recognized the song quickly and groaned; “Oh no. Not Cat Burns.“

“Hey, don’t complain about her music. She’s great.“, Leah scolded you with a laugh. “You’re obsessed with her.“, you rolled your eyes, amused. The defender gave you a death stare with a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth; “Shut up and listen to this song.“

Thankfully, instead of singing the song for you, she turned it on and continued playing along. “Okay, fine.“, you gave in and had to admit that the lyrics of the song really resonated with you.

Still, you had to make a comment about the song text; “Wait, why is she singing about the troubles of being 26 when she’s just 23?“ Leah rolled her eyes at you; “It doesn’t matter what age. The twenties are always confusing and I have a feeling the thirties won’t be any better.“

“Kim and Jen seem pretty comfortable.”, you disagreed winking. The blonde gave you an amused look:” Yeah but I can tell you, they still don’t have a clue what they’re doing?” “Yes, I guess you’re right with that.”, you admitted chuckling.  

The softness in the defender’s features disappeared again and the usual stern expression returned when she demanded:” I am. Now listen to the rest of this song.”

With closed eyes you let the lyrics comfort you like a warm hug from a friend, by the end of the song you had to swallow hard: “Okay, I might still not like her music that much but the song hits right there it should be.” “You just have no taste.”, Leah shrugged.

As usual you couldn’t help but to tease your teammate a little bit: “Rude coming from someone who’s music taste is stuck in the 70s.” “Not my fault that they don’t make music like that anymore.”, the blonde responded with a dramatic sigh.

That didn’t stop you from adding:” But you’re not from the seventies, you’re a nineties girl.” “And? I can still appreciate that music.”, Leah replied unimpressed.

To appease her you took the place next to her, already placing your fingers on the keyboard:” Let’s play another song together.” “Which one?”, she curiously turned her head to face you directly.

Sheepishly you grinned at her starting to play the opening of North London forever:” What about this one?” “My favourite one.”, she answered laughing. You loved making your normally serious friend break out of her shell and hear her laughter fill the room.

Later that day Leah offered you to stay overnight, as usual you were sleeping in the same bed side by side but when you woke up the next morning you couldn’t believe your eyes. “Lee stop stealing my sweaters.”, you scolded her not quite as serious as you liked it to be.

In a sassy tone the defender remarked: Too late.”  “Also, it’s winter break you don’t even need to go to the gym.”, you told your teammate.

Stubbornly she packed the final things into her sports bag: ”And? I still have to get up at some point.” “But your bed is so cozy.”, you countered, wearing an innocent smile on your lips.

For a moment Leah paused in her movements: “You can stay in my bed if you want.”  “Thanks. When are we supposed to meet the girls again? So, I know when I have to get ready?”, you asked her as you were closing your eyes.  Promptly the defender reassured you before heading out of her home: “You have a few more hours.”

With a sigh, you snuggled back into the warm blankets, snoozing for a bit longer. Leah, on the other hand, was trying to focus on her exercises in the gym instead of Keiras video call. “Lee, you have to tell her how you really feel about her…“, Barcelonas midfielder was telling her.

“It’s not that easy, Kei.“, Leah replied between two sets of lunges. Keira sighed; “Why not? I think it’s pretty simple. Honestly, didn’t your self-help books teach you anything about that?“ “Actually, no. They don’t tell me how to tell my team mate that I might have a crush on her.“, the defender rolled her eyes.

“You’re lucky that football is my love language and I only have experience from dating other players, so here’s my advice. Are you listening?“ Instead of Leah, Keiras girlfriend Laura replied to her question; “Yeah, I’m listening.“ “She wasn’t talking to you!“, Leah laughed.

Laura grinned into the camera at the Arsenal player; “I know but I’m still curious.“ “You two need to shut up to hear my advice though.“, Keira reminded the two. Leah took her phone to see her friend better and patiently sat down on her mat; “Enlighten us.“ “Stop being afraid and go for it.“, Keira advised her.

The defender frowned; “Just a short question about that statement.“ “Sure, go on.“ “How many girls did you ask out again? And how many times were you asked?“ Keiras cheeks immediately turned red while Laura hysterically laughed in the background.

The Barcelona player grimaced and admitted; “They always ask me.“ “And now tell me why I should listen to you again?“, Leah asked with a smug smile. “Because I’m your best mate and I want you and her to be happy.“, Keira replied, making big innocent eyes at her friend.

Leah let a few seconds pass before she shrugged; “We’ll see.“ “Can’t wait to see you guys later.“, Keira smiled happily. “Me neither.“, Leah answered before resuming her strengthening and mobility exercises.

When Leah came back from the gym, you were wide awake, having showered and dressed yourself. When your guests showed up in the evening, Leah and you were just in the process of preparing dinner.

You left your team mate alone with the pizza dough and opened the door; “Kei and Lau, hi. You’re lucky we already prepared everything to do the pizzas!“ “And we’re starving!“, Leah yelled from the kitchen. “Same here.“, Keira laughed back and you stepped aside to let the couple into Leahs kitchen.

The Arsenal defender couldn’t help but to smirk at her comment: “I knew you would say that.” “Stop only talking and let’s start doing the pizzas.”, you reminded them why you four were in the kitchen. The mentioning of food made Lauras stomach growl:” Please.”

“Did Lee already told you?”, curiously the Barcelona midfielder turned to you. In confusion you lifted your eyebrows:” What do you mean with she told me.” “Keira shut up.”, Leah demanded while hitting her playfully on her arm.

With a soft chuckle Keira lifted her spoon so the Arsenal defender could see it: “Be careful I’m having the tomato sauce in my hands!” “I don’t care.”, the blonde replied cheerful. Clearing your throat, you intervened: “But I care about the pizzas.”  

“We have enough sauce, don’t worry.”, Leah reassured you. You could feel your muscles relaxing as she softly touched your shoulder. Optimistic the Roma player added:” Yes, they will turn out great.” “Ours yes.”, Leah grinned cheekily putting her free arm around your waist just as to underline who she meant with ours.

Eyerolling Keira countered: “Excuse me I have a Roma player in my team.” “Yeah, but she’s Austrian. Laura doesn’t know how to make a pizza.”, the defender interjected feisty.

Not too impressed by the blonde’s teasing Laura asked her interested:” So it’s a competition of who will make the better pizzas.” “Yes.”, you nodded.  Your teammate confirmed: “It’s now.” “The game is on.”, Keira answered, while throwing flower into your direction.

Surprised you looked down at your clothes who were covered in white now:“Keira what the hell?”  “Barca isn’t good for her. She would have never done that a few years ago.”, Leah sighed out loud. Laughing you continued:” Yeah, she’s getting too confident now.”

After you four put the pizzas into the oven you told them:” I’ll go to the bathroom now and get myself cleaned.”

While you were away the Barcelona midfielder whispered into her close friend’s ear:” Go after her Leah.” “To the bathroom?!”, the defender exclaimed. Winking Keira cheered on her: “Uhm you’re usually in the locker room with her, so there’s nothing you have not seen yet.”  

“There’s a difference between a locker and a bathroom, Keira.”, Leah shook her head. “Don’t be a coward, Leah.” “I’m not.”, she pouted.

A few minutes later you nearly walked into your teammate as you opened the door from the bathroom: Oh sorry, Lee.” “Oh, don’t worry.”, the blonde waved it off. You could sense that something was off with her, so you wanted to know:” Are you okay?” “Uh sure.”, Leah licked nervously her lips.

“You looked like you were about to say something…“, you prompted your team mate to speak. “I… uhm…“ Leah was never lost for words, you knew that.

You cocked your head, watching her closely, before trying to encourage her; “Remember the ‚You know you can always tell me what’s going on in your mind‘? That counts for you too.“

Finally, Leah sighed in defeat; “Are you sure you want to hear it?“ “Yes.“, you nodded determinedly. Another few seconds passed. “I like you.. not just like team mates or friends. You get me like no one else does.“, Leah revealed.

For a moment your breath stopped; “You mean…“ “Yes. But you don’t have to say anything right now. We can just continue the evening like nothing ever happened.“, Leah explained.

She was about to turn away from you and go back into the kitchen but you held her back; “No, I don’t want to forget it.“

With hopeful eyes, Leah looked back at you as you started to quietly sing live more & love more by Cat Burns under your breath; “'Cause if there's something you wanna do, just do it. Don’t let your head stop your heart from moving.If there's someone you wanna talk to, talk to ‘em. Who knows who we'd be if we just live more and love more.“

Biting her lip, the defender listened attentively. When you stopped, she lifted her eyebrow; “I thought you didn’t like her music!“

“Oh, I think our pizza is ready.“, you changed the topic, innocently blinking. Leah suppressed a laugh while you went back to the kitchen, where Keira and Laura had placed the pizzas on the table.

“Ours looks prettier“, Keira declared pointing at big smiley face on their pizza. “No, it doesn’t!“, Leah protested. “Yeah, it does!“ “Children!“, Laura interrupted them with a laugh. You sat down, taking a slice of your and Leahs pizza and happily biting into it; “As long as it tastes good. That’s how you actually recognize a good pizza.“

“Yours definitely looks like it was made with love.“, Laura commented, winking at the two of you. “Laura!“, Leah exclaimed but her face had turned a slightly pinkish colour. The Roma player shrugged; “Just saying.“

“You’re right though, Laura.“, you smiled and reached over the table for Leahs hand. Laura returned the smile; “I know.“ Leah shook her head about the girls on her kitchen table; “I hate you all.“

“No, you don’t.“, Keira countered. “Sadly. But I could need a kiss right now for all the bravery it took to say those things.“, Leah explained, looking at you with a slight pout. You raised your eyebrow, laughing; “From a team mate and friend?“

“Coming!“, Keira answered and stood up from her chair. “I didn’t mean you, Kei!“, Leah grimaced before leaning towards you and kissing you for the first time.

You were so caught up in the kiss that you didn’t even register Keira saying; “Rude. Do you have it on film, Laura.“ “Yes, I got it.“ When you two pulled apart, you saw the other couple happily looking down to the photos on Lauras camera.

[cinnbar-bun]

Together (Benn Beckman x Reader)

Summary: As the "mom" and "dad" of the Red-Hair Pirates, you and Beckman have a lot of work on your plates. (Un)Luckily for you two, your crew decides to meddle with your relationship (again).

A/n: A gift for my friend, @fanaticsnail . Enjoy the first mate, darling <3.

Notes: F!Reader, kinda of a will they-won't they type thing. Everyone is shipping it just Beck and Reader lowkey refuse to admit it. Lots of fluff and teasing. Reader is referred to as 'mom' and Beck as 'dad'.

Word Count: ~3k

You can read on my AO3 here!

“Dad! Mom’s being mean to me again!” Shanks loudly yelled while he was chugging more bottles of rum. The first mate sighed at the nickname but didn’t even bother to turn around and face his captain. 

“(Y/n)?” Beckman called out. 

“Yes?” You replied, the other members of the crew staring at you both with wide smiles and bated breath. 

“Smack him for me,” Beckman chuckled. Shanks let out a faux-offended gasp as the deck erupted with laughter.

“You’re so mean to me! How could my own first mate do this to me?!” Shanks whined as you pat your poor captain’s head. He pouted like a little kid before he took another swig of his alcohol. 

“That’s just what you get, Captain!” Lucky Roux laughed. “You know Beck won’t ever disagree with (Y/n)!” 

“Well some of us need to be the adults around here,” Beckman retorted. He held two mugs in his hand, one filled with his coffee, the other prepared just for you. For the first mate, it was practically routine to make your morning drinks for you. He silently handed off your mug to you, and you took it with a hushed ‘thank you’. “Are you still making the list?” 

You nodded while going over the notepad in your hand. “Tomatoes, potatoes, onions…” 

“Don’t forget to add some carrots, since someone,” Beckman’s eyes narrowed at Limejuice, “burned them all.” 

“Hey! It wasn’t my fault! I thought you eat them if they were black!” Limejuice tries to explain. 

“They’re carrots, you can eat them raw!” Beckman shouted in exasperation. “You guys are going to kill me one day!” 

“Oh, don’t be too harsh on them, Beck,” you try to soothe the first mate. “I can always take care of cooking duties, anyways.” 

The men nodded, eager to have your cooking as a guarantee instead of whatever slop they would make in their often drunken stupor. 

“Thanks, mom!” Yasopp cheered. “You know we love your cooking!” 

“Not happening,” Beckman deadpanned. The men slunk their shoulders and groaned. 

“Why not? (Y/n) makes the best food!” 

Beckman rested a hand on his hips. “Because (Y/n) is already busy taking care of a majority of the duties on this ship. I’m not having her overwork herself because you guys couldn’t figure out that carrots are edible.” 

Shanks put down his drink and nodded. “I have to admit, it’s pretty true. Beck has a point.” 

“Thanks, Capta-” 

“So I guess if you want (Y/n) to cook, you need to start picking up the slack!” Shanks proclaimed. “That’s a good compromise, right?” 

You shrugged. “I-I mean, it’s really not necessary, I can cook, too.” 

Beckman placed a hand on your shoulder and shook his head. “(Y/n), they’re grown men, they can do their own laundry and dishes. You don’t need to do everything.” 

“I could say the same thing to you,” you chuckle. “‘Dad’.”

“Not you, too,” he groaned. “You know I hate that nickname.” 

“I know, but it fits you.” 

“‘Mom’ fits you as well.” 

“Okay, you two, get a room!” Shanks laughed. Beckman glared while Shanks waved him off. “Anyways, why don’t you two take care of the shopping today? The men and I will handle things back here.” 

“Are you sure? But Yasopp was saying-” 

“Bah!” Shanks laughs off your concern before rummaging for a bag of coins. “Yasopp wasn’t planning on doing anything. Just take your time and get whatever you guys want. I better see you two relaxed and having fun when you get back!” 

Beckman made a puzzled face as he took the bag of money. “You’re not slick, Shanks.” 

“What’re ya talking about, Beck! I’m just saying, you two should take it easy today. You guys keep this ship and crew running. As captain, it’s only natural I let my best mateys have a day off every once in a while. I’m not some tyrant, you know?” 

You stifle the laughter in your throat and and close your notepad. “Well, we really can’t complain, Beck. Let’s enjoy shopping for a bit.” 

“Sure thing,” Beckman relented. He made sure his pistol was strapped to his belt and put the money into his pocket. “You got the list?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Good. I heard this island is supposedly famous for their bread. If we’re early enough, we might be able to snag some right from the oven,” Beckman comments. Your eyes widen. 

“Really? We gotta hurry then.” 

“Bye mom, bye dad!” Shanks waves with his remaining arm, causing the other members to rush back to the deck to see you off. 

“Bye, you two!” Lucky Roux waves his stick of meat. “Don’t have too much fun!” 

“Don’t stay out too late, lovebirds!” Yasopp jokes. 

“Keep talking like that and I’ll not bring any rum back,” Beckman threatens. 

“Aghhhhh! MOM! Do something about him!” The men whine to you while some of them boo and chide Beckman. 

“Bad, Beckman, bad,” you chuckle as you and Beck begin to walk down the ship. 

“You’re right,” Beckman plays along. “I’m just a horrible, terrible first mate.” 

“The cruelest first mate around.” 

“Mhm. And what does that make you? Just as bad?” 

“Probably.” 

You two go through the streets of the island, taking in the sights. It isn’t long before the sweet smell of bread begins wafting through the air and taking hold of the both of you. 

“Oh man, they weren’t kidding,” Beckman mumbled after inhaling the smell. 

“I think that means we came just in time,” you grin, excitedly walking up to the door of the bakery. You marveled at the selections within the store, as well as some of the bakers making the bread behind the counter. 

“Wow…” you tap your chin. “Maybe we should get some brioche.” 

“They do have flatbreads, too. We could get those for a meal,” Beckman hums thoughtfully. 

“With tuna?” “Now you’re cooking. Add that to the list for our next stop,” he commented, and you nodded before writing ‘tuna’ on your list. 

“I’ll add some rice as well,” you say. 

Soon, it is you and Beckman’s turn to order, and you two greet the old woman working at the counter. 

“And what can I get you two?” You begin to place your order, before turning to Beckman. 

“Do you think we should get anything else?” You ask, glancing back toward the display of pastries. Of course the first mate caught that and nodded. 

“Two pastries,” he added. “You want that one, right?” Beckman pointed at your favorite pastry and you smile bashfully at the fact he knew what you liked without you having to say a thing. 

“Yep, that one,” you confirm. The old woman grins at you two and begins to package your bread. Beck takes the box of it to carry, and promptly thanks the woman. Afterwards, she puts your two pastries in a small, wax paper bag and hands it to you. She sighs contentedly and has a nostalgic look on her face. 

“Oh, you two remind me of the good ol’ days. May your love stay with you forever,” she wishes. The sentiment catches you off-guard for a brief moment. “Sorry, we’re actually-” 

“Thank you, ma’am,” Beckman thanks her. Your eyes widen as he smiles at you, and you can’t help the smile forming on your lips, either. You wave goodbye to the woman and exit the bakery with Beckman. 

“Why’d you say that?” You ask, curious of his intentions. He shrugs, but there’s still a playful grin on his face. 

“Felt natural,” is all he says as you two continue down the street. You rummage through the paper bag and get out the pastry he ordered for himself, one made with figs, and hold it to his lips. He stops his mindless chattering about things to get and leans down to take a bite. 

“Mm, that’s so good. They got good figs,” he mumbles with a mouth full of pastry. You laugh at his silly behavior and wipe some of the crumbs off his chin. 

“Let me try mine.” You take out yours and bite into it, melting at the exquisite taste of the pastry. “Oh, that’s amazing.” 

“Right?” He says enthusiastically. “We have to come back here again and get some more another day.” 

“We should bring some back for the crew next time.” 

“Nah. Let’s keep this one our little secret,” he winks at you. 

“You’re a very cruel first mate, Beck,” you tease. 

“Well, can you blame me? They won’t taste as good without you eating them with me.�� 

“I think I have to agree.” 

The day continues on like this, with you two continuing to shop and cart around box after box of supplies for the ship. Beckman and you have practically inspected every item for the freshest produce, meat, and fruits for the crew. Thankfully, you two are the most organized and efficient members of the crew and are practically finished before lunch. 

“Did we grab coffee beans?” You ask, looking at your list again. 

“Right here, dear,” he answers, showing you one of the bags. 

“Okay, good,” you check off another box. “Is that really it?” 

Beckman looks over your shoulder to see the list and the boxes all around you. “Would you look at that… guess we really did get everything.” 

“I mean, this looks like all we need, but we did it so quick,” you say, admittedly wanting to spend more time with the first mate. 

“We did. I guess that’s what happens when you don’t send Roux and Yasopp to do the shopping.” You laugh as you remember the time when those two went to get the supplies, only to come back near midnight with only the most expensive of alcohols and hardly any food. From then on, Beckman had set a rule that if anyone messed up that bad again, they’d have to pay with their own coin. 

“Should we head back, then?” You ask. 

“If you want. I have no problems walking around the town with you,” he replies. 

“Considering you’re pushing that cart, I think we should go back and drop the supplies off.” 

“It’s not a problem, (Y/n). This is pretty easy to pull,” Beckman assures you. 

“Still, I-” you begin, before Beckman places a hand on your shoulder. 

“Hey. It’s okay,” he states. “I’m happy to keep walking with you. After all, even our captain said we should enjoy ourselves. I don’t see any issue with us taking a bit longer to go back.” 

“You really mean it?” Beckman nods. 

“I do mean it. I enjoy our time together, and it’s rare we get the time to just do as we please.” 

You hesitate for a moment then nod at him. It is true, as a pirate, especially in the crew of a notorious Yonko, moments of peace are rather rare and fleeting. Not having to fight for your life or the world is a nice change of pace every once in a while. 

“Okay. Where to next?” You ask as Beckman leads you deeper into the city. The shops are more refined compared to the street markets near the port, leading your eyes to wander. You gasp and stop in front of a display window when you see a gorgeous selection of bracelets. Some are made with gold, others silver, and another with a shiny, black material. Beckman notices you frozen at the display and makes his way to you. 

“Come on, let’s go in.” 

“Huh? Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m just looking.” 

“Don’t be so modest, (Y/n),” Beckman urges. “Go try one on.” 

“I don’t have the-” 

“Nope. No more excuses,” he shakes his head as he opens the door to let you in. You step into the store, amazed at the beautiful jewelry surrounding you. A salesperson greeted you and chatted with you about the bracelets you saw on display. They pulled out the displays for you to try on and you debated which one to pick. 

“Hm…I think I want to try that one on,” you point at the gold bracelet. The salesperson clasps the bracelet gently on your wrist and you marvel how it sparkles under the light. “Beck, what do you think?” 

You show off the bracelet to him and he stares at it with a surprised expression before he composes himself. “It looks great on you.” 

The excited look on your face makes his heart beat faster as you tell the salesperson you want to buy it. 

“Good choice. I do want to let you know we are currently doing a promotion for this particular set. If you buy another one, it’s 50% off.” 

You turn to Beckman expectantly. “Do you want to get one then, Beck? We can match!” 

He examines the bracelets. “I don’t know, I don’t think they’d look that good on me.” 

“Hey, you can’t pull that trick on me after you made me come in here!” 

“Fine, fine,” he chuckles. “I think I’ll try this one.” He picks out the black bracelet and puts it on. He looks impressed with the jewelry and his face softens as he looks into your eyes. 

“Well? Does it look alright on me? Definitely doesn’t look as good as it does on you,” he jokes. 

“It looks great,” you look back into his eyes as you press your wrists next to his. “I think this should be another of our little secrets.” 

“I’m starting to think my bad behavior is rubbing off on you,” he smirks, as he goes to pay for the jewelry. 

“Maybe it is, Beck,” you respond as your eyes are locked on your matching bracelets. 

The afternoon is spent wandering aimlessly in this town. You two visit nearly every shop, walking and chatting about everything under the sun. Things like memories, what the crew was possibly up to, to even the most mundane topics like sweets and how you like your eggs prepared. 

It feels simultaneously too short and like an eternity between the two of you. He continues to lug around the cart of supplies and other things you two bought in your impromptu shopping trip, never looking any worse for wear. He doesn’t care to focus on something like that when he’s with you. 

The sky is beginning to turn a bright orange and pink as the two of you finally manage to get back to the ship. 

“Wahhh! Mom and dad are back!” Roux yells as the men cheer. Shanks leans over the edge and smiles at you two. 

“Well, well, I didn’t think either of you had it in you to take a break!” Shanks admits. “We all started placing bets on if you would be back by noon.” 

“I was saying midnight, for the record,” Yasopp shouted. 

“You guys are so immature,” Beck chuckles while shaking his head. “We just explored some of the shops. Got a few things.” 

“Anything fun~?” Limejuice says. 

“Bowls?” You lift a few of the new bowls you bought at a store. 

The men throw their hands up and groan. “Really? Nothing else?” 

“Nope,” Beck lies, making them all quiet. He scans the deck and notices it’s rather clean compared to the smelly and alcohol-ridden floor. “So, you guys actually did clean up, hm?” 

“Yeah! Course we did!” Shanks proudly exclaims. “I told you we’d handle it. Now where’s the rum-” 

“When we have dinner.” 

“Ugh… why are you the worst?” 

“Don’t be like that, Shanks,” Beck crosses his arms. “(Y/n) and I won’t be around all the time to handle everything. It’s good for you guys to learn to take care of the ship.” 

Yasopp sighs. “Always so mature and level-headed, I tell you.” 

“You’re so lame, Beck! How does (Y/n) put up with you?” Limejuice whines. 

“Mom, tell Beck he’s boring and needs to be cooler!” Hongo cries. 

“Enough complaining, help put these supplies away,” Beckman points to the boxes. The crew begins to do as told while you and Beck start unloading some of the supplies. As you do so, Shanks calls your name. 

“Hey, gorgeous bracelet. Where’d you get it?” He asks, loving the gold on it. You jump when he mentions it and look at Beckman, who gives a simple nod. 

“Just got it from the shops. It was on sale.” 

Shanks nods and lifts your wrist closer to inspect the bracelet. “Wow, it really looks great on you.” 

“She would hardly step into the shop until I made her. She was eyeing that the whole time,” Beck teases you. 

“Not the whole time, exactly,” you try to explain. “It just was pretty, is all.” 

Beckman lifts a box up to a shelf and Roux loudly gasps, surprising everyone. 

“Beck!” 

“What? What’s wrong?” You and Beck say at the same time. Roux has a knowing smirk on his face as he points to Beckman. 

“You got a matching bracelet, too!” Roux shouts. Shanks and the other men gasp and move in closer to look at it. As Roux said, the black bracelet on Beck’s wrist matches yours perfectly, and the men howl in laughter. Some even begin to exchange money as you and Beck are mortified at their behavior. 

“You guys seriously made bets?!” You cried. 

“It was just a simple one!” Hongo admitted. 

“And who was the one who said they were doing more than just shopping for food?” Yasopp rhetorically asks. 

“You were also the guy who said they’d return at midnight. You lose half,” Roux retorts as he takes the money in Yasopp’s hand. Shanks huffs as he also gives some money to Roux. 

“So like, did you two confess?” Shanks asks hopefully. 

“For the last time- we’re not dating!” You and Beck shout in unison. 

“Could’ve fooled me. You guys act like you’re married.” 

“You guys are in so much trouble,” Beck sternly tells the men as he steps closer to them. 

Some of the men begin to scream in horror. “Whaaaaa! Mom! Save us!”

[louloulemons-posts]

I don't know if your requests are open, if not ignore this! But what about Eddie asking reader out at school, but his friends are laughing not so far away so they think it's a joke. They get really upset cause they liked Eddie and it ends up fluffy at the end!

Different Kind Of Chemistry

Eddie X Fem!Reader

Summary : Eddie asks reader out, but it doesn’t go as he planned.

Word Count : 1k

Warnings : Not proofread, 3am writing (again - i’m sorry), toothrotting fluff, minor angst, petnames, miscommunication, stupid teenage boys lmao, minor sad reader, cute mom, supportive hellfire besties.

A/N : Guys we hit 400 followers! Thank you all so much for the love and support it means so much to me, I can never thank you enough 🤍

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

You’d always been the quieter type, keeping to a small and close group of friends. You weren’t cruel to others though, always kind. It made you known, but never popular. People liked you it was that simple.

You had your faults, you didn’t actively make friends, they had to come to you. That was your shyness taking over at times. The newest person trying to break through that was Eddie Munson.

Sitting down in your seat, you pull out your textbook and notes. “Hey Sweetheart,” a voice spoke, you looked up to meet a pair of brown eyes. “Hi Eddie, how are you?”

“Great, but how couldn’t I be? I get to sit next to the most beautiful girl for a whole hour!” he grinned, sliding into his own seat next to you. Rolling your eyes you couldn’t speak again as your teacher stood.

“Settle down, we’re doing some recapping on Organic Chemistry today. Chapter 15,” she said to you, turning to the board behind her to write some things.

Flicking open your book and notes, Eddie spoke again, “Hey Sweetheart.” You slid the book in between you, “Need a pen?”

He nodded and took the one from your hand, “You’re really my favourite person ever.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever you say Munson.”

You couldn’t help but feel your cheeks warm.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Swapping some books between your locker, you shut it behind you and headed out of the school. “Sweetheart!” a voice called from behind you.

Pausing in your place, you turned to find Eddie jogging towards you. “Hey,” he said, once he was in front of you. “Hi, what’s up?” you asked.

“Oh … I um, I wanted to ask you something, if you have a minute?” he spoke. You heard some voices from behind him, his Hellfire friends.

“Yeah go for it,” you smiled, trying to focus on him. You could hear his friends whispering and sniggering from across the hall. “I was just wondering if maybe, and feel free to say no, if maybe you’d want to go on a date some time?”

“Go on Eds!” One of the boys spoke from behind him, making the others cackle. Eddie waved his hand as to shush them, but was unable to hide his own smile.

How could they be so mean? This was something you’d imagine Jason Carver and his friends did, not Eddie.

“Why are you being so cruel?” you asked.

“Sweetheart wha-” you didn’t let him finish. “You think it’s funny? To ask girls out? Embarrass them? I thought we were friends,” you scolded him, eyes watering.

“No, no you’ve got the wrong idea,” he tried to explained, but you were gone. Turning around and pushing through the door. “Shit,” he said to himself.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Woah man what happened?” Gareth asked. “I just blew my only chance with her,” Eddie spoke, rubbing his face with his palm.

“What do you mean?” Jeff questioned.

“She thought I was kidding.”

“We didn’t mean to make it come across that way man,” Gareth spoke.

“I know, but she didn’t. God, I messed up.”

Dustin tried to comfort him next, “Don’t worry man, we’ll fix this!”

“How?”

“Romantic gesture?”

“Oh yeah cause all of us have so much romantic knowledge.”

“Hey me and Mike have girlfriends!”

“She’s not like them,” Eddie wined.

“We’ll fix this man, let’s make plan,” Jeff offered, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Lay on your bed you sighed for the millionth time in the past minute. How could he be so cruel to you? What was the point of being your friend? Was it a bet?

You sat up, suddenly furious, were you a bet? How much were you worth? $15? $10? $1? You screamed in frustration.

“Honey! There’s someone here for you!”

“Coming!” You sighed, pushing yourself up off the bed and stomping your way out of your room.

“Have fun,” your mom said winking at you, walking past. You scrunched your brows in confusion, who could be here? Pulling the door open you were surprised who was stood there.

“Hi Sweetheart-“ you grabbed his hand and dragged him away from door. Stopping in front of his van, you inhaled deeply, “I pulled you away from the door because I don’t want my mom to see me mad.”

You inhaled again and then snapped, “What are you doing here? Embarrassing me in front of your friends isn’t enough?”

“Hey, first of all I’m sorry okay, but I’d love to explain if you’d let me.”

You hummed, nodding your head stiffly. “These are for you,” he said, handing you a bouquet. “Tulips,” you said softly.

“You said about them being your favourites, since you went to Amsterdam.” It’d been a passing comment, your Chem teacher had had a bouquet on her desk.

“You remembered?”

“I remember a lot of things you say. Anyways, I’m really sorry about my friends they were just teasing me. They didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“Right.”

“They know how much I like you and have not let me live down how much I’ve been pining over you.”

“I see.”

“Yeah, they walk me to Chem when they can, just so they can tease me from the door.”

“Oh,” you said gently.

“I’m really sorry we embarrassed you, we’re idiots. But I really hope I haven’t messed up completely, Sweetheart would you maybe considering going out on a date with me?”

“I’d love to.”

“I get if you don’t want to- What?”

“I’d really love to go on a date with you Eddie.���

He couldn’t contain his grin, which you matched. “Cool,” he said.

“Cool.”

“Well um … I’ll call you about it.”

“Great,” you said, standing on your tiptoes, pressing your lips to his cheek.

“Goodnight Eddie.”

“N-night Sweetheart.” You walked up your path and to the door, turning round you waved to him. He raised his own hand, seeming a bit stunned.

“So, he’s cute,” your mom said.

“Mom! Were you snooping?”

“Me? No! Pretty flowers honey,” she kissed your forehead and walked away smiling.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

A/N : Thank you for requesting! I hope you enjoyed it 🤍

Also I had another request and have had to leave it, I don’t really feel qualified to write about topics (eg SA) as I don’t feel like I have enough understanding and experience with it to write about it in a sensitive and proper way.

Thank you so much for reading! Please leave any requests 🤍

[aauroraxia]

Supposed To Be

Armando Aretas

This story is based off of a song called Begin Again by Taylor Swift ^^. For a better experience I highly recommend you listen to the song 🎧!

Sypnosis: Y/N just got out of a toxic relationship with ex named Greg. She finally decided to start dating again. On her first date with her new boyfriend, Armando she has many flashbacks of her past relationship. Armando shows her how love is supposed to be, and not all love is toxic.

Warnings: None

I took a deep breath in the mirror, doing a little twirl. I looked perfect, my tight red dress, hugged my curves. My curly hair curled perfectly around my face. My black high heels made me a little taller than I actually was, but I don’t care, I think I look perfect and I hope he thinks the same.

I was finally dating again. After breaking up with Greg, I was scared of dating. Until I met Armando. He told me that he didn’t know my ex or what he did for us to break up, but, that he was nothing like him, he’s one of a kind.

One of my friends had offered to take me to the restaurant I walked out of my house grabbing my phone, purse, and keys, and walked to the car. As I sat in the passenger seat I started thinking.. ‘Remember what happened last time you went on a date’

Flash Back Start 𖣔

I arrived to the cafe that Greg asked me to meet him at. I looked in the mirror in my car, fixing my hair. I wanted everything to be perfect.

I walked inside the cafe, glancing around looking for Greg. He was nowhere to be found. I started panicking, thoughts flooded my mind.

‘He couldn’t be standing me up’

‘He wouldnt’

‘Would he?’

The waiter sat me at a table. I caught a few weird glances from other couples. I pulled my phone out of my purse, checking the time constantly, and maybe to see if Greg texted. After about 25 minutes, he hadn’t called or texted.

Tears flooded my eyes. I put my phone away and gathered my things. It’s time to go home.

As soon as I stood up I heard the cafe bell ring. I turned around to see Greg walking in the shop. His brown hair, messy. He had on a blue button up shirt that wasn’t even buttoned completely.

Had he even tried to look nice? Was this “date” really not that important? I balled my fist up, sitting back down in my seat, waiting for him to walk over.

He sat in front of me in silence. No ‘Hey, I’m sorry for being late.’ No stupid excuse. Just silence.

Flash Back Ends 𖣔

I shoved that memory deep down in my mind, or at least I tried. I started my car and drove to restaurant I was meeting Armando at.

I walked in the restaurant, hoping Armando was already here. And he was. He waved me over to the table he was sitting at. Walking over to him, he looked at me with a small but genuine smile. He stood up and pulled out my chair for me.

That was so nice! I sat down across from him, locking eyes with him. He wouldn’t take his eyes off of me.

Flash Back Start 𖣔

The rest of the date went pretty well. Greg told me this lame excuse of how he couldn’t get a stain out of shirt, that’s why he was late. He asked me how was my day and after I answered him he explained how his day went.

While explaining my day I made a small joke. I guess he didn’t think I was funny because he just stared at me, with a blank unreadable expression on his face.

Embarrassing…

I quickly changed the topic to work, to avoid any further embarrassment.

“Hey, I think you look really pretty tonight, but um I’m not that much taller than you and you wearing heels makes you taller than me.. I don’t like the look so if we’re supposed to be together could you stop wearing heels?”

The audacity..

It’s not my fault that he’s shorter than Peter Pan. But this date already started rocky so I just smiled and nodded.

Flash Back Ends 𖣔

“Te ves hermosa. Ese vestido y esos tacones te hacen ver muy sexy.” Armando said.

I smiled at his sweetness. I knew he wasn’t much of a talker but he was putting in a effort to talk, and that’s all I needed.

“How are you?” He asked

“Good, what about you. Apart from being hunted from the police.” I joked

He leaned his head back, laughing. Last time I told a small joke I was hella embarrassed. But that wasn’t the case this time, thankfully.

Soon, a waiter came and took our order, we ate and talked about any and everything. He even payed for both of our meals. Damn, he couldn’t be any more perfect.

He offered to take me home and I agreed. “Any specific song you want to listen to?”

I started thinking.. “Can you play ‘Fuck It I Love You’ by Lana Del Rey.

“Yeah”

Flash Back Start 𖣔

When Greg invited me to his apartment, on the way there I asked him to play that same song. “What does the song even mean. It’s boring and sad. How about something else.”

I looked at him in utter disbelief. Did he really not understand the meaning? Once again I just smiled and nodded.

Flash Back End 𖣔

“Sorry if you don’t like this song.” I said “I know it’s supposedly sad.”

“Nah, it’s not sad. It’s real.” He assured me.

Oh my gosh I think I love him.

Once arriving at my house Armando walked me to my front door. Like he was protecting me.

I loved that. It made me feel like I would never have to worry about my safety with him.

“Como te dije antes, no conozco a tu ex ni lo que hizo para que rompieras con él, pero nunca te lastimaré amor.”

I smiled, placing both of my hands on his shoulders, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. Once I pulled away, he softly cuffed my cheeks, pulling me into a passionate but loving kiss.

“Sure you don’t wanna come in?” I asked him with a playful smirk.

“Quizás lo haga” He said with a smirk, locking his car, and following me inside.

I don’t know how far this “relationship” with Armando would go but, I do know this is how love is supposed to be.

Translations:

“Quizás lo haga” - Maybe I will

“Como te dije antes, no conozco a tu ex ni lo que hizo para que rompieras con él, pero nunca te lastimaré amor.” - Like I told you before, I don't know your ex or what he did to make you break up with him, but I will never hurt you, love.

“Te ves hermosa. Ese vestido y esos tacones te hacen ver muy sexy.” - You look beautiful. That dress and those heels make you look very sexy.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

A Question Best Left Unanswered

Okay so this one kinda got away from me and I had a grand old time with it. It's so silly and stupid but it brought me joy.

Anyways, have some more Summoned!König. This time featuring relationship angst and questions about anatomy.

TWs: discussion of sexual activity, NSFW content

Wordcount: 4.2K (it's a whopper here)

Story below the cut

Images courtesy of this post

A Question Best Left Unanswered

You hung your head in shame as you hung up the phone. What a disaster that last call had been.

The entire hour-long phonecall you’d just had with your parents had just ended up with them berating you for a good forty-five minutes before they gave up on trying to reach you. First your father had shamed you for ruining the family name, then your mother cried that she didn’t know where she went wrong with you. All those years of preparing you to be a summoner, only for you to turn out to be a miserable failure.

By the end, you’d just barely been able to hold back your tears. Once you hung up the phone, they fell freely down your cheeks as you hurriedly scurried to your room.

Of course, it couldn’t be so simple because your friend had just turned the corner as you reached your door.

“Hey!” she called with a wave, only to retract it nervously when you turned to face her, “woah. Are you okay?”

You nodded but before you could leave, your friend clasped a hand on your shoulder.

“You’re not okay,” she said grimly, “do you want to get something from the caf?”

You hesitated. Normally, you wouldn’t be willing to eat anything until dinner came around, but the call with your parents sat wrong in your stomach. It wasn’t much, but maybe a bite to eat would help.

“Sure,” you conceded, “let’s go.”

---

With a plate of crackers and fruit in front of you, the most the chefs on base would give you, you broke down and told your friend about the call.

“Your parents suck,” your friend spat, “like, who does that? I just can’t believe anyone would say that, especially not to their own kid.”

“They’re not usually that bad,” you weakly tried to defend them, but today your heart just wasn’t in it.

“Are you sure?” your friend asked as they took a bite of their veggie sandwich.

You sighed heavily.

“I just wish they would as least pretend to be proud of me,” you stirred your drink with your straw slowly, “I mean, I didn’t ask to be born like this. Why is it my fault that I can’t control my summon? He’s literally an avatar. An avatar. Those are like, the hardest summons to try to control.”

“Actually I think a legend might be,” your friend interjected, food spitting out their mouth as they spoke, “or maybe an immortal. I don’t think anyone’s managed to control a god before…”

“Okay yeah sure but it doesn't change the fact that he’s an avatar. Of chaos,” you wiped the chewed up spittle off your sleeves with a brush of your hand, “and I’m, well, you know, me. There’s no way I can handle König.”

“His name is König?” your friend asked.

“Yeah,” you took a sip of your drink, “he’s pretty nice honestly. Last week he got me my stuffed animals and the game boy I lost from my old home.”

Your friend looked at you with wide, unblinking eyes. Their jaw dropped to their chest for a moment before they were able to gather their composure.

“No fucking way,” she muttered.

“What?” you snorted, “aren’t all summons like that?”

Your friend shook her head hard enough to make you worry her neck would snap.

“No? I don’t even know my fire imp’s name, or my water sprite. They’re just my summons,” your friend explained, “most of the time they just tolerate me because they can’t kill me.”

“Don’t you form bonds with them?” you asked, now curious.

“Nope,” your friend snorted, “my water imp sprite tried to drown me when I first summoned it. Most summons try to kill their summoners as soon as they figure out that they’re not in the other realm.”

“König’s never hurt me,” you admitted.

“Never? Has he ever tried to?” your friend leaned back with an awestruck expression.

“Not once,” you confided.

“So you’re not the one that made König your mate?” your friend put together slowly, “König made you his mate!?”

You grimaced and leaned back from her, “Pretty much.”

Your friend whistled, “No fuckin’ shot. I can’t believe you bagged an avatar of chaos. Like, you realize how insane that sounds, right?”

You blinked. You hadn’t really thought about it that way. You’d always just seen it as König sparing your life, but the thought that somehow you were the one to seduce an avatar of chaos brought you a spark of joy.

“I guess you’re right,” you agreed timidly, “I just thought that he was lonely.”

Your friend snorted, “I mean probably, yeah, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that he chose you as a mate,” she thought for a moment, took a bite of her sandwich and then asked, “wait, so if you’re a human and he’s an avatar, what will your kids look like?”

You flushed and turned to hide your face, but your friend was quicker.

“Wait, have you actually thought about that?” she teased you lightly.

“I mean, we’ve never actually… You know… We’re not really a couple,” you admitted.

“So you’re not banging him?” your friend raised an eyebrow.

“No?” you gasped, horrified by your friend’s suggestions, “I barely even know him!”

“But like,” your friend pressed their lips into a line. She studied you carefully before she finally asked, “Aren’t you curious?”

“About what? Fucking him?” you raised your eyebrows at the suggestion.

“I mean yeah, but like…” your friend leaned in close again, “what does he even look like?”

“I…” you paused, “I actually don’t know.”

Your friend took a bite of her salad before pointing her fork at you, “We need to fix that.”

“We!?”

“Well now I’m curious,” your friend shrugged, “so now it’s not an ish-you kind of problem, it’s an ish-us.”

“That doesn’t even make any sense,” you sputtered.

“Point is that I-sorry we need to figure this out. I mean,” your friend tossed you a sly look, “if you’re gonna have his kids you’re gonna have to find out one way or another.”

You were at a loss for words. All you could do was stare at the woman who sat across the table from you, almost as though she herself were an avatar of chaos.

Your friend scowled, “What?”

—

You slowed your pace to a crawl as you approached your dorm. It wasn’t that you weren’t eager to go to bed, rather the contrary, but the thought of facing König tonight made your cheeks burn bright red.

Ever since your conversation with your friend, you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about König. You already thought about König a bit too much for your own comfort, but you’d never thought about König like this before. It wasn’t like you were a prude by any means, but you’d never actually considered being with König like that before.

It’s not that it had never come up, you still remembered König trying to take you almost immediately after claiming you as his mate, but ever since he’d been nothing but respectful of the boundaries you'd since put up If anything, he was sometimes more respectful of your own boundaries than you were. Maybe he read your mind more than he let on, but you liked to think he was just thoughtful. After all, if you’d been around since the beginning of time, wouldn’t you be considerate and patient? You liked to think you’d be, but you had your doubts.

Thinking about König had you blushing as you walked down the hallway to your dorm. You could see the door all the way from here, only occasionally being obscured by a summoner retreating into their dorm for the evening. Occasionally, you could see a summon tagging behind them, most often looking rather irritated or depressed, something you’d never really noticed before.

Most summons were kept in the other realm unless they were actively being called upon. Some summoners like to keep their summons by their side, almost as though they were a beloved pet. You thought to your meditation teacher with his summon. Other times, you saw summoners struggling to manage their summons. In fact, the one class you excelled in was protecting yourself against your summon. Of course, the only reason you did so well was because König never tried to attack you in the first place. Your sergeant had been frustrated at first, but after further consideration decided to take it as your summon being too attached to you to consider attacking you. With this in mind, she gave you a bright and shining report. She then promptly told you to never take her class again. You were more than happy to comply.

Of course, König didn’t always help during your training. In fact, he seemed to prefer leaving you to your own devices whenever possible. He’d once explained that he gave you minimal support to encourage you to train harder to keep up with your peers, but you decidedly figured it was because he was too lazy to help. König only rolled his eyes when you told him that and decidedly vanished to the other realm for the rest of the night.

Your doorway grew closer and closer with each step you took. You wished that you could find a way to avoid going back to your dorm, but lights out drew nearer and nearer the longer your tried to put off entering your one personal area.

Finally, you reached your dorm. With a heavy sigh, you opened the door and stepped inside.

Surprisingly, König wasn’t there to greet you.

“König?” you called out carefully, but no reply came back to you.

You walked towards your desk.

“König?” you called again, but again there was no response.

Maybe he was occupied for the evening.

A sudden rush of relief overcame you. The absolute last thing you wanted to do was face König while your conversation with your friend was still fresh on your mind. That said, you had the strong suspicion that a night of good rest wouldn’t be enough to shake the thoughts from your head. With the way the question had fixed itself to your mind, you had the dreadful feeling that the only way to find some sort of satisfactory answer was to progress your relationship with König.

But were you ready to go that far? You’d shared a kiss, but since then, König had kept his distance. He was strangely considerate of the trepidation you felt whenever the thought of being in a romantic relationship with König crossed your mind. How would that even work? You were a mortal. Your life was but a blink of his eyes. And yet, despite your limited lifespan, he chose to spend this fraction of his life by your side. Was he amused by the whims of his new plaything? Was he simply toying with you until he chose to rend the soul from your mortal flesh? The thought made you nauseous.

But why did it make you nauseous? Why did the thought of König’s ultimate betrayal feel like a stone in the pit of your stomach? Why did your eyes sting and your throat clench when you thought of how little you matter to a being as grand and powerful as König?

You had an idea of what was behind the feelings, but you daren’t give it any room to breath, never mind grow within your mind’s garden. You’d instead stamp it out, coat it in salt and rip it from the earth like a weed. Of course, the roots went deeper than you could imagine.

You slumped into the plushest chair your company could buy in the corner of your room. It was worn, tired; it had seen many generations of new and upcoming summoners such as yourself. The thought gave way to an ache deep inside your chest.

You wiped your sleeves over the tears that flowed from your eyes. You didn’t consider yourself to be of the weeping sort, but since König had entered your life, he’d seemingly turned everything upside down, including how you operated in your day-to-day life. A part of you hated it, a louder part wished to take it all with open arms. You despised both parts for their respective tenacity. 

You allowed yourself to curl up for what felt like forever before you managed to come to terms with your fears.

You would be nothing to him. You were a speck in his eye, if anything. You were naught but dust, and you would have to content yourself with such an existence. Now as to why König had taken such a shining to you, that was beyond your comprehension. If you had the mind of Aristotle, Diogenes, or Plato maybe you could have come to terms with your existence in relation to the greater world. Had you a mind of Camus, Cant or Descarte maybe you could content yourself with the meaning of your existence itself. But you had no such mind, now did you? You were weak and feeble, a summoner with all the potential one could hope for at your fingertips yet hindered by your own inability to understand the ethos of methods that had been passed on like the summoners passed before them.

You felt the tears subside briefly to allow you a moment to recover from the throes of your emotions. Unfortunately, just as you felt yourself wrangling your emotions back under your control, the pot lights flickered.

“No not now…” you groaned and curled further into the safety of the chair.

“Did I come at a bad time?” König crossed his arms as he stared at you from the centre of the room.

“Can you please go away?” you sighed as you turned away from him.

König hummed before stalking to your side, “I think that it would be wrong of me to abandon my mate when they’re in such a state.”

At the mention of ‘mate’, you groaned and ducked your head between your knees.

König paused, then drew away. He came back moments later to swath you in a warm blanket before he crouched in front of you.

“It seems something troubles you, summoner,” König droned as you drew the blankets around your form.

“I’m fine,” you spat bitterly.

König barked out a laugh before ruffling your hair affectionately, “You certainly are in quite a mood, aren’t you?”

“Just go away,” you grumbled.

König drummed his claws over his knee. His scales rippled in the crepuscular light that shone into your room, his onyx scales shining almost iridescent in the warm dying rays of sun.

“Must I read my mate’s mind to understand what troubles them so?”

You grumbled and ducked your head under the blanket.

König sighed. He stretched up with cracking joints, and you’d hoped he’d left until you felt him pull your blankets from your head. You tried to struggle against him, but he didn’t so much as budge while you writhed. With a sigh, you conceded and allowed him to pull the blankets to the side to see you properly.

“Well, summoner?”

“I just was thinking about us…” you admitted.

“Us? In what sense?” König asked, already fully aware of your answer.

“Like, we’re mates, right?” you tucked your nose to your knees, “but I don’t know why.”

König hummed, then drew you up into his arms. You struggled and spat, but he held you before he sat down on the sofa with a loud poomf as the air was punched out from the pillows.

“You don’t understand why I chose you,” König surmised quickly.

You didn’t dare meet his eyes as you nodded.

“Well,” König adjusted you so you sat upright in his lap, “I’d say it makes perfect sense.”

You stared at him blankly.

“That reaction of yours is exactly why it makes sense,” König explained, “a being of chaos is likely to tear you asunder. Maybe enslave you, maybe curse you for thousands of generations to come. It’s expected that something horrible would happen.”

“So you chose me because it was the random choice?” you asked.

“I chose you because I saw your potential,” König explained, “and, of course, you're right as what greater delight is there than to choose the opposite of the expected outcome? Why follow your expected order when I can tie you to my side for millennia to come?”

You scowled, “So you chose to be my mate because you thought it would be funny.”

König shook his head, “You could take it that way, but that would be unwise. Rather, I chose you as a mate because I saw your potential and wanted to see it through.

“You were set up to fail, you realize this?" König stared deep into your eyes, "the chalk you used to summon me was imbued to ensure that whatever was summoned would be more than you could ever hope to control. The patterns they gave you were far too complex for a beginner summoner. You were supposed to be torn apart.”

You froze in König’s arms.

“Yes, you were meant to die. But when I looked at you, marked for death by those envious of your potential,” König’s smirk was woven into his words, “I saw that potential of yours and I saw an opportunity. I saw a way to usurp the delicate balance of power this world has.”

“So I’m a pawn to you,” you felt the tears stinging behind your eyes again.

“Not in the slightest,” König chided you patiently, “I saw you for your potential and I saw someone who just needed a push. Someone who just needed someone to help them see their own worth. And that someone, dear summoner, was none other than myself.”

“That still makes me sound like a pawn,” you complained.

“Then I’ll tell you this: I chose you because I saw what we could become together,” König whispered into your ear, “I see you now, mind you. I see you and I am enthralled by you in all your strange and truly wonderful ways.

“I want you to listen carefully summoner, as this is a lesson that will be tattooed into your veins: I love you for you. I love you for who you’ve been, who you are, who you will be. I love you for all of you, completely and forever.”

You flushed brightly. Instead of replying, you simply tucked your face into yourself to avoid having to meet his eyes. Of course, the joy of being loved could only last so long in the shadow of a more pressing problem.

“I’m assuming forever is until I die,” you sighed.

“Yes? That’s what will happen, yes,” König told you plainly, “as it will happen to myself. We will die together.”

Your eyes snapped wide open as you whirled around to look him in the eyes.

“Calm yourself, summoner,” König huffed, “what makes you think that will be soon?”

“I mean, soon for you,” you muttered bitterly.

“Soon for me?” König chortled, “I don’t think that day will come anytime soon. You’re my mate summoner, you’ll be with me until we die.”

You stared at him, “So, in seventy years?”

König reeled back in shock, “Seventy years? That’s nothing! You’ll be with me for the rest of my natural life!”

You blinked.

“But…” you glared at him, “but that’s like… I’ll never get that old.”

“Summoner,” König drawled, "have you not considered that when mated to me, certain aspects of your life will change?”

Honestly, the thought hadn’t crossed your mind.

“No, you didn’t think that,” König concluded after looking into your eyes, “well let me be the one to inform you that your natural life has been extended exponentially to match mine. You’ll be with me until the bitter end, I’m afraid. Or at least, for as long as you’ll take me as your mate.”

“I mean, I’m pretty happy with you,” you admitted.

“I’d hope so,” König sniffed.

“Don’t be like that,” you huffed.

“Be like what, upset that you’d be anything other than infatuated with me?” König retorted.

“Infatuated?” you laughed, “that’s a lot to ask for, isn’t it?”

“Not when it’s already provided,” König booped your nose, much to your dismay.

“I’m not infatuated-what? Where are you getting that from!?” you snapped as König threw his head back with a gurgling laugh.

“I jest, summoner,” König gave you a light kiss from beneath his mask, feeling more like being pinched by something sharp than being kissed on the cheek. You pushed his face away which he only just allowed before hugging you close.

“Now, summoner,” König rubbed his cheek against yours, leaving behind a thin sheen of something that smelled strongly of König, “I can tell there is more on your mind.”

“No there isn’t,” you lied weakly.

“No? There’s nothing I can answer for you?” König trilled.

“Nope,” you turned your face away from him, “I know everything.”

“Not yet, summoner,” König laughed.

“And who are you to question my endless knowledge?” you huffed haughtily as you cast him a downright scathing side-eye.

“Oh, nobody important,” König lay back in the seat, “only the being that saw the creation of your universe and will live to see its death.”

You rolled your eyes, already over his ‘holier than thou’, or rather, ‘more worldly than thou’ attitude.

“So tell me summoner,” König’s hand wandered down your torso, “isn’t there more on your mind?”

You flushed scarlet. He really was determined to get to the bottom of this, wasn’t he? A part of you felt that he was only pushing you this way to further tease you, but you couldn’t help the genuine curiosity bubbling forth.

“I mean, maybe,” you conceded, “but it’s nothing important.”

“I would say otherwise,” König tucked your face into his clavicle.

“Well,” you started, emboldened now that you didn’t have to look your mate in the eyes, “I was talking with a friend about you.”

“Were you now?” König drawled.

“And uh, we were talking about how you chose to be my mate, not the other way around. So, we got to talking about it, and…” you trailed off shamefully.

“Talking about us being mates? I can imagine a great myriad of topics can come forth from such a nebulous beginning,” König brushed his claws through your hair with surprisingly tender care.

“Well, we were kinda talking about what it would be like for you to fuck me?” you squeaked out.

König paused in his ministrations, seemingly shocked by your forwardness.

“I’d hope it would be pleasurable for both of us,” König stated, still befuddled by your answer.

“Well that’s what we started talking about, and then it went on to what your dick looked like?” if you didn’t think your voice could go any higher, you’d be poorly mistaken.

König slowly leaned back to be able to look you in the eyes.

His voice sounded like it was coming from deep under the ocean, “Excuse me?”

If you weren’t so embarrassed you might have laughed at your ability to shock a being older than time itself. Evidently, though König could see the ways time shifted and cross, was able to see all the possible outcomes of an event, even he couldn’t predict just how horny you were.

“I mean, it’s just like,” you shrugged, “if I wanna have your kid I’d probably have to figure it out at some point, right?”

König nodded mutely.

“Do you…” you looked him dead in the eyes, “do you even have a dick?”

König blinked.

“Yes?” he stared back at you, “I mean, what did you expect?”

You shrugged, “Maybe a cloaca?”

You could see the furious horror that washed over König’s face despite the mask.

“I do not have a cloaca and whoever told you that is a cheat, a fiend and a liar!”

Evidently someone had history.

“It’s a reasonable thing to think!” you protested, “I mean, you’ve got this whole bird-y ocean thing going on with you? It’s a vibe, sure, but it doesn’t give me much room to work with.”

"I have a what-You know what, nevermind, I don’t want to hear it,” König groaned as he rolled his eyes, “but yes I do in fact have a ‘dick’ as you refer to it. I don’t know why you’d think-”

“It was the water bird thing!”

“Why you’d think my 'vibe' might change that. I am… Wait, I don’t actually know what your species looks like,” König dropped his hands, “one moment please summoner,” he placed a thumb against your forehead, and immediately you felt your entire body go numb. After only a minute had passed, König withdrew his thumb, and with it came the return of your senses.

“Well that was informative,” König grumbled, “but not particularly helpful. I am realizing that I’m… Different from your species. Significantly so.”

“That’s really not helpful,” you flushed, “I mean, you could just show me…”

König pressed another pinching kiss to your forehead, “My mate, I think we should wait until you’re ready to go that far.”

You squirmed in his lap, “I mean, it can’t be that bad…”

“You can wait,” König tucked you back to his chest, “I assure you it won’t change for another thousand years.”

“Wait, it changes?” you spluttered.

“I reserve my right to remain silent,” König replied.

“You sure don’t use it often,” you grumbled only to find your lips pressed firmly together into a line. Despite your best efforts, your lips remained stuck in place.

König sighed and settled back into the sofa, “Much better.”

You were going to kill him, you swore by it.

AU Masterlist

[ilovehugslikealotalot]

Nine-ing Armor

(not my gif)

sum: Rebecca meets her ‘Shite in Nine-ing Armor’

WARNING: Rupert doesn’t own West Ham, WestHamplayer!r, confessions, r is kinda like Jamie, gay panic, injuries, blood

Rebecca didn’t see this coming, at all.

She sat in her office, barely getting work done due to a certain West Ham player in her mind. Ever since the clubs have agreed to have a women’s league, Rebecca was beyond ecstatic. Now, she just wanted it to go away, she wanted you to go away. Not because she didn’t like you, no, it was the complete opposite.

The way your legs were so perfectly muscular, your arms looked like you could sweep her of her feet even though you were shorter than her. She would’ve loved if your skilled hands just made their way down to her-

“Rebecca!” Keeley screeched, barging into the office with a big scowl, Rebecca jumped, snapping out of her thoughts, “Yes?”

“What the hell is this?!” The woman growled, stomping over to the other blonde desk in fury. Rebecca raised her brow, a signal for the woman to explain, Keeley let out another growl, placing her phone on Rebecca’s fancy glass desk.

It was a text.

Y/n 😉 Hey Keeley! I was wondering if you could tell Rebecca that ‘y/n’s sorry if she’s upset you in anyway’? I want her to know that I meant it but, she doesn’t have to reciprocate it. Thanks! Have a good day :) It was you. After a few weeks of going out, getting to know each other more, you finally caved. You told Rebecca your true feelings during brunch. You really thought she would feel the same after everything but, you thought wrong. Next thing you knew, she was sprinting out the door of the food establishment, leaving you enough to cover the bill. At least she had the decency to do that. She left you, in the middle of brunch, alone, looking ridiculous in the sundress you specifically wore to impress the older woman. You felt horrible. You should’ve just left it alone, how could a woman as fabulous and stunning as Rebecca Welton even consider wanting you? What could you offer her that she didn’t already have?

Rebecca’s face dropped. This could not be happening. She already made a complete fool of herself the first time she met you. Blabbering about anything just to get you to look at her. It wasn’t her fault, there was something about you that made her lose her confidence and melt like a puddle of ice.

Now, she’s made a fool of you. All because she can’t talk properly around you. After you’d confessed her feelings, Rebecca began panicking. She wasn’t ready, at least that’s what she told herself.

She couldn’t talk to you without breaking down, your presence was enough to make her want to tell you her darkest secrets.

Keeley frowned, rounding her best friend’s desk, she would knock some sense into the woman just like she had many times before. “Look, it’s clear you are madly in love with her, why can’t you just say that?” Keeley said, her hands placed on Rebecca’s shoulders. The older blonde shrugged, “Because I’ll hurt her Keeley, I know I will. It’s better that I do it now.” The club owner pushed away opening her laptop once more and typing, Keeley knew better than to meddle in this little affair but, she read the message out loud, hoping Rebecca would listen.

“You and her are worth the chance, you’ll never know if to don’t even try it with her. Screw the press, you said it yourself.” Without another word the younger woman left. Leaving a conflicted Rebecca alone in her self pity. She wondered if this is how you felt. Alone and betrayed.

It was hours until the game between West Ham and Richmond. Yet, Rebecca could feel her heart lurching. Even if the game hadn’t started yet, she knew that the West Ham women’s team was in the building. It made her overthinking every turn and step she took as she walked around. She didn’t know where she was going or what she was looking for, just mindlessly wandering. Maybe she even hoped to see you.

That was when she had stopped in front of the guest lockeroom that she had realized, she was drawn to you. Peeking through the window, she heard footsteps behind her. “Hello, Rebecca Welton is it? We met at the Club Conference a few weeks ago” A voice said, the blonde woman turned around to see the owner of West Ham, the better, new one. Rebecca smiled, “Ah, Diana! What a pleasure, I hope your team have brought their A game.”

The two engaged polite conversation, Rebecca found Diana way more pleasant than some of the owners. It was nice not being the only woman anymore. The lockeroom door burst open, and out came the women all energized. Rebecca didn’t care who won of lost tonight, she just needed to talk to you.

You exited the lockeroom with your team, they hyped you up as you unzipped your hoodie revealing the number 9, flaunting it around. The team sang the ‘We All Follow the West Ham’ chant with pride, Rebecca looked over at you. The twinkle in her eyes was noticeable, even Diana saw it. “You love her, don’t you…?” The woman said softly, crossing her arms as she winked at Rebecca. The blonde woman felt her voice would betray her, settling for a nod instead.

——

The game was exciting, in the first half the score was Richmond 1, West Ham 3. Every time someone would try to get passed you, the effortless moving of your feet managed to swipe the ball. You had this grin all game, it pissed Richmond off badly. Even the players who were benched. It was no surprise that fans had began to compare your mannerisms to Jaime.

The way you had provoked one of the players and acting like it wasn’t your fault, hands up in the air with this smirk.

It turned Rebecca on, especially when the Jumbotron would zoom into you. Man, you looked so good in your kit.

During halftime, no matter how much the Richmond coaches didn’t want to, they had to press that big red button they really didn’t want at first. Their biggest weapon was their player named, Maria Sheridan. The woman was a darn good player, as Lasso would put it.

She just had too much attitude, it would’ve been the best to bench her until she got her act right. That was when Roy realized her attitude combined with yours might make it easier to win.

“It looks like, for the first time in two games, Roy Kent has decided to sub in Sheridan” One of the announcers said in disbelief, the other smirked, “This is going to be one explosive end. We already know how Sheridan and Y/l/n get along.”

They were in fact correct, Maria had stopped you from making 2 goals now, it was ticking you off and everyone knew it.

“She’s really hot in that kit, Rebecca” Keeley nudged the other blonde woman on the arm, she just sighed, “She’s angry because of what happened, I mean look at her on that field!” Rebecca gestured to the Jumbotron that had caught you bending your water bottle in half as the refs called a time out.

You aggressively spat out the clear liquid, throwing the plastic bottle onto a chair. Sheridan was gonna pay, you wanted to get another goal, the score was now even. The team didn’t want to lose, not when they were all so close. The whistle let out its shrill cry and the pitch was back into action.

You were close, so close to the goal, that was when you heard the loud pounding of feet. You tired, even when your body ached, you still ran, just when she had tackled you to the ground, your skin sliding against the turf and your head slamming into her shoe, you had kicked it.

You whimpered as you lay on the ground, you could hear the gasps of the spectators then cheering. You would be embarrassed later, not knowing why they were cheering. The buzzer rang through the stadium as you grasped your shoulder. It hurt from catching you after the impact.

You didn’t realize the red substance oozing out of your head. You noticed Sheridan had gotten up and propped up your head, she was screaming something at you but you couldn’t make it out. It was so loud and…why were the lights so bright?

You could feel the rumbling of feet, you grasped your head wondering why it hurt so badly. You could feel the thick wet liquid on your palm…oh.

Now you smelt the irony substance, it was sickening, you hated blood.

The medical team had brought you to the infirmary, checking you over. By then you had a sense of what happened, hoping nothing was broken, if anything was, you didn’t feel it.

They gave you some pain medication, cleaned up the burn and the small gash on your head. There was a bruise on your shoulder where you had landed. Lucky you.

Maria walked in with an apologetic look, “I’m sorry, y’know for being like that on the field, you alright?” She asked, softly sitting down next to you as you caught your breath. “It was a footing accident and I’m sorry, if it make you feel any better you’ve ruined my new boots” she laughed softly. You shook your head, you knew it was, someone her level wouldn’t mess up that badly, not if she completely lost her brain. “I thought I should tell you, your girlfriend went complete psycho on me but, I deserve it.” You raised a brow, “What girlfriend?”

“Uh, Rebecca?”

Oh, right. Your cheeks heated up quickly, rivaling the color of dried blood on your hands. Noticing it, you got up to wash the blood off. Maria watched you, “She wants to see you, she’s out there having a mental breakdown, weeping about how she’s stupid for something. You want her to come in here?” The Richmond player would make a good friend, maybe some day the both of you could get passed your differences.

Nodding, you sent her a smile, “You’re not all bad, Sheridan.” The other woman smirked, “Don’t get all sappy on me, still have to beat you during the championships.” She left without another word, missing your shocked expression.

That means you had made it in…

You felt overly happy with yourself, scrubbing off the rest of the blood on your face. “Darling?” Rebecca called out, her voice was always like honey, softer than silk.

“Why’d you do it? Run out on me like that.” You asked, trying to get the blood from under your finger nails. You heard her sigh, “I was scared, I haven’t loved somebody this much since…I don’t even know how long.” She chuckled bitterly, coming up behind you she stopped a little bit out of arms reach. “I understand if you don’t want me but, I can’t promise you that I’ll stop loving you.”

With a shaky breath, you shut the water off turning to her, “I do want you, Rebecca. That’s what makes it so hard to be mad at you, just promise me something” You turned to her, not expecting the tears stains and smudged mascara. She really had been crying, her face was a little red too. “Don’t let the media define you, you’re worth more than all of the diamonds on this world and more…”

“I promise.” She sniffled, looking at you with hurt eyes, she’d struggled a lot in her life. You could tell from how she carries herself. “Then I forgive you, stupid idiot…” You smiled, walking up to her and smashing your lips onto hers.

“You’re a real shite, you know that?” Rebecca laughed, pulling you closer as she wiped the new formed tears, except now, they were happy tears.

———

This was in my drafts as well, I thought I’d release when I had time! This was one of my very first fics that I’ve written! I drafted it for revision and never released it, hope you like it!

Not proofread :)

[moni-logues]

A Simple Favour

Pairing: Changbin x named reader (afab, she/her)

Genre: fake dating, friends-to-lovers, smut

Summary: Your temper got the better of you and you lied to your sister. Rather than coming clean, you get your best friend playing pretend, too.

Word count: 21.5k 💀

Content: fingering, protected sex, discussion about sex toys, some very uh, unshowered sex lol, reader is called Miki (Mikyong)

A/N: ahhhghheghhef my longest ever one-shot and first ever fake-dating fic is here!!!! And it's BINNIE!!!! this all started with this post and I truly never had any intention of turning any of them into proper fics. But then.... but then I honestly couldn't stop thinking about this Changbin and so I wrote a scene and then another, and then another and suddenly, it was happening! I HAVE given reader a name, because it's frankly annoying af to not be able to call your reader anything and I don't like using 'y/n' lol so hope that is ok with y'all hahah

Thank you to @minisugakoobies for beta-ing and @violetsiren90 for all the sprinting and enthusiasm!!!!!!!!!

* * *

“I need to ask you a favour.” 

“Yeah, ok, sure.” 

“No, no, I need you to hear what it is first.” 

You sat down next to Changbin on the sofa and it was only then that he started looking as if he was paying attention. 

“Ok...” 

“I need you to be my boyfriend.” 

Changbin was out of his seat before the word had come to an end. 

“What?!” 

“Not really!” you cried, immediately standing up again, hands raised, trying to placate him. “I just need you to pretend to be!” 

“What?!” 

You groaned loudly and tipped your head back to shout at the ceiling. Then you motioned for him to please return to his seat so you could explain. 

“I... may... have... toldmysisterthatwe’retogether.” 

He was on his feet again, roaring. 

“WHAT?!” 

“It’s not my fault, ok?! You know how annoying she is!!!! She won’t stop going on about how we act like a couple and how we’d be good together and why don’t we just get together and don’t I see and no one else wants to go out with me anyway, what, do I think I could do better and I just fucking snapped!” You gripped him hard on the arms and stared, wide-eyed and grimacing at him. “I couldn’t take it anymore,” you told him through gritted teeth. “I snapped. I told her we were already dating but trying to keep it quiet until we knew if it was going anywhere.” 

Changbin did exactly as you had not a minute before: looked skyward and groaned all too loudly at the ceiling of your apartment.  

“So you mean to say that your sister now thinks we’re a couple?” 

“Yeah... and I mean, Chan, too, obviously. He was there.” 

Changbin closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  

“You mean my best friend Chan?” 

“Hey! I’m your best friend!” 

“Not anymore!” 

He took a few steps away from you and shook his head, shook out his arms, rolled his shoulders. You did not know if you would be able to convince him to go along with your charade. It wouldn’t have to be forever, not even for long; you just had to find a way to back out of it that left both your names untarnished. Couldn't be that hard, right? 

“Please, Binnie,” you began, tone softer now, sweeter, pleading just a little. “I know, I suck. But my sister sucks more and I really just want to get her off my back for a bit and I promise I will sort it out. I promise I’ll let us break-up quickly and you’ll come out smelling of roses! But please, please back me up on this.” 

He turned around, looking at you seriously.  

“What exactly is involved?” 

“Well, y’know, if Chan asks about it or something, just... go along with the lie. You don’t have to do anything really.” 

“Except for the lying and deceit and stuff.” 

“Yeah.” 

There was a pause in which Changbin stood, staring out of the window, hands on his hips, deliberating. Then he turned sharply to look at you. 

“I have a date tonight. Can we start tomorrow?” 

You inhaled sharply through your teeth, eyes shut tight.  

“Nope!” 

You winked an eye open to see how he’d react. There was outrage on his face. 

“What do you mean ‘no’?!” 

“You can’t go on a date with someone else if we’re together!! What if someone sees you?” 

He shouted again at the ceiling. 

“I was going to get laid tonight!” 

“Sorry!” 

You cowered, made yourself as small as possible, watching him as he nevertheless unlocked his phone and fired off a quick cancellation text. 

“I’m going to make you pay for this, you know,” he told you as he typed. 

“I know. I deserve it.” 

“Fine,” he said with a sigh. “I’ll do it.” Then he flopped back onto the sofa and patted the seat next to him. “But to be absolutely clear, I am not going to your stupid family lunches.” 

“Actually...” 

* 

You were at your stupid family lunch. You had been going to Sunday lunch with your family for what felt like forever. At first, you and your sister schlepped way too far outside the city to your parents’ house, but now your sister hosted. Your sister and her husband, who just so happened to be best friends with your best friend. Why did the world have to be so small? 

This time, your boyfriend was here, too. Sorry, your ‘boyfriend.’ It had taken a thousand favours owed and promises of future gifts made, but Changbin finally agreed to come, and you had agreed the rules for this deception: 

1. You and Changbin had been dating for a ‘few weeks’ (since you got drunk at the river and decided to say ‘fuck it why not?’ to the whole thing).  

2. You made the first move. 

3. When in public together, you would always be prepared to act like a couple, should you run into anyone you knew.  

4. Changbin would lead and you would ‘yes, and’ him, no questions asked. 

5. Absolutely no dating other people, just in case.  

6. It was your job to find a way to end it that made both of you look good – or at the very least, made Changbin look good.  

7. No one—and that meant no one—else could know that it wasn’t real. 

Just as you were walking up to your sister’s front door, Changbin added another: you would give him servings of everything first – including seconds and thirds, even if they came from your own plate. He knew your mum and sister cooked well and he was going to enjoy at least some part of this afternoon. You felt you had no choice but to agree. 

“Hello,” you called as you entered your sister’s house, without enthusiasm.  

You had been dreading this since the second the words had left your mouth the previous week. You could have just not lied; you didn’t have to have said that you and Changbin were dating; you could have controlled your temper even a little and not have got yourself in this predicament. You could even have swallowed your pride and embarrassment and told your sister it was a lie, that you had said it to try to shut her up. It wasn’t like it would’ve been the first time you’d told her how annoying she was.  

But you hadn’t. You had lied and now you were sticking to the lie and Changbin was fully involved (if not invested) and you were about to spend an afternoon pretending to like him. 

You liked him fine, as a friend. You liked him a lot, even, as a friend. But he wasn’t That Guy to you. He’d never elicited so much as a single butterfly in your stomach. Not a flitter of a wing or twitch of an antenna. He was just Binnie. And you knew he felt the very same about you.  

“Finally,” your sister said by way of a greeting as she came down the stairs. “You’re late-” 

“No, we aren’t,” you snapped back, fully prepared to argue further but the look on your sister’s face took you by surprise. 

She was surprised.  

“Oh, Changbin! I didn’t know you were coming.”  

There was a sly smile on her lips as if there was a joke you weren’t in on, but you didn’t have capacity to be annoyed by that; you were waiting with bated breath to see what Changbin would do. 

“Hi, Hanbyeol,” he said, as polite and charming as he might ever have been. “Miki said she told you I was coming. I hope it’s alright I’m here.” 

“Of course it is! The more the merrier, right?” 

She winked at you as she walked past into the kitchen, and you rolled your eyes.  

“Absolutely!” Changbin responded, following her, grabbing your hand and tugging you along, too.  

This was going to be a very long afternoon.  

* 

The very longest afternoon of your life. When Changbin had made you promise to ‘yes, and’ him, you had thought he meant go along with his concocted story of your first date or something.  

You hadn’t expected... whatever the hell it was he was doing.  

The first time he called you ‘baby,’ you literally, physically flinched and had to try very hard not to scowl. The second time, the only thing that might have given you away was the flare of your nostrils. The third time, you dragged him off away from everyone to hiss viciously at him. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” 

“What?” he asked, with as much innocence on his face as he could muster. 

“Calling me fucking ‘baby?’ Why? Why would you do that?” 

“Aren’t you my baby?” 

“For fuck’s sake, Binnie! NO, you know I am not! What are you doing?” 

“You said I could play this however I liked and you also said I wouldn’t have to do anything but here I am, in your sister’s house, performing my perfect little tush off to keep your lie intact! So suck it up, baby: this is how Changbinnie dates!” 

You rolled your eyes and swore under your breath once more. 

“So you mean to say that you’re going to make this as painfully cringe-worthy as possible and embarrass us both?” 

“Both? Oh, I’m not embarrassed!” 

He didn’t wait for your comeback to that one and strode back into the kitchen, leaving you quietly seething but not yet regretting sticking to your lie. You could cope with an afternoon of this.  

Which is what you thought until you actually sat down to eat and Changbin made you stick to your word and serve him first. It was almost impossible to do it with a smile on your face – you were sure you resembled some kind of grotesque, with a rictus grin and clenched teeth – but you did your best. You really tried to be sweet to him, to pretend to care that he got the best cuts and biggest pieces of meat, that you were happy for him to take the last dumpling from your plate.  

You were sweating from the effort of it. You have never wanted to leave your sister’s house more. You felt suffocated. Hot. Uncomfortable. Embarrassed. Your parents were there; they also had to think it was real and you hadn’t considered the implications of him meeting the parents until it was too late. Suddenly, this felt serious.  

You had thought it would be easy pretending that you and Changbin were together because... well, you did spend a lot of your time together as it was. You were close. You were so close that it was what got you into this mess in the first place! If you already acted enough like a couple for your sister (who barely ever saw past her own nose) to see it, then the job was already done – you had thought.  

You had underestimated Changbin. Of course you had. His mischief, his love of performance, his inability to not do something that he knew would stitch you up in some manner. They all combined into what was sure to become your absolute worst nightmare and there was no one to blame but yourself.  

You were just going to have to find a way out of it and quick. 

* * * 

“Changbin! How nice to see you again!” Hanbyeol crowed the next week when you dragged him along for a second time.  

“Of course! The food last week was so good, Hanbyeol, I had to come.” 

She actually blushed. 

“Please, Changbin, call me Hani.” 

You rolled your eyes; she was too easily flattered and Changbin was a little shit.  

You hadn’t planned to make him come again. You would have preferred that he didn’t. But... Well, your sister just knew how to press your buttons. She had expressed her surprise at your apparently real relationship with Changbin, even uttering the words ‘I didn’t really believe you.’ She had then proceeded to lecture you on how to behave in a relationship and warn you of all your ‘usual tricks’ that apparently kept romantic partners away. You had been so thoroughly goaded that you had hung up on her and immediately dialled Changbin, telling him, in no uncertain terms, that he was  ‘coming next week even if I have to kill you and drag you there.’  

He had put up a fight, but the food really had been that good (your sister had many flaws, but cooking was not one of them) and he let his arm be twisted in far less time than before.  

He behaved in much the same way as he had but, this time, you were prepared for it. You had braced yourself. You even managed a real smile at Changbin at the dinner table, despite the fact that he, once again, ate the last dumpling from your plate. He didn’t up his game or do anything more to try to embarrass you this time – perhaps he hadn’t expected your quick adjustment; he had overestimated your temper – but you were glad for this. You had to admit (for a microsecond only) that he might actually be a good boyfriend.  

Neither of you had had any serious relationships in the time you’d been friends. When you met, your relationship was in the middle of a breakdown and your ex had moved out before you and Changbin had become firm friends. Changbin had dated, a lot, but none of them seemed to stick. Sometimes, he was sad about it; he would show up at your door with ice cream and his favourite blanket (yes, really) and you would coax the story out of him, trying not to press too hard on his bruised pride, his wounded heart. Sometimes, he chucked them before it got that far.  

You’d actually not really spoken about relationships all that much. You assumed Changbin didn’t want anything serious because he never had it. You assumed that he assumed you wanted to be single because you (mostly) were. You shared horror stories from occasional bad dates and Changbin sometimes made you pick out his outfits, but you didn’t talk about them. You didn’t talk about your fantasies and dreams, your ideal partners, ideal relationships; you didn’t talk about how much you really did want to have one. You weren’t single because you didn’t want a relationship; you were single because you didn’t know where to find one.  

You had burnt out on the apps in double-quick time and weren’t really sure where else to find anyone. You would never take up your sister’s offer to set you up, which might honestly have been cutting your nose off to spite your face because you did like Chan and she was happily married to him, but there was simply no way you would ever have been able to live with her smug self-satisfaction if she had been the one to introduce you to a life partner. And that left you with very few other options.  

* * * 

Having a fake boyfriend—who was your best friend at that—turned out to be quite a lot of fun. You did all the same things you usually did, plus handholding when in public and tolerating whatever cutesy baby-talk Changbin threw at you during your family lunches. That was easy.  

Your friends were outraged when you told them. Not because they opposed the union but because you hadn’t told them before. They went back through your friendship with a fine-toothed comb, pointing out signs and hints that they had known ‘all along’ that you were into each other. 

There were no signs. There were no hints. Because you weren’t into each other. But you let them have their fun because it helped sell the lie you were trying to peddle.  

* * *  

“Sister,” your sister began, on the phone to you almost two weeks after your second lunch. 

“What, sister?” you replied, already unamused. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Hani. She just... rubbed you the wrong way. A lot.  

“You and Changbin should come on a double date with us.” 

“What?” 

“A double date. Me and Channie; you and Changbin.” 

“Ugh.”  

You didn’t have a much more articulate response than that. Really? Why? Why did she always have to suggest these things? Why did she need to be so nosy? So many of the thoughts that stuck in your brain when it came to your sister began with the word: why. 

“Why?” you asked, already trying to think of excuses not to go.  

“What do you mean why? It’d be perfect! Channie and Changbin are friends; you and I are sisters; we all already know each other! You’re always such a spoilsport!” 

“But Binn- Changbin and I have already been for lunch twice; that’s basically the same.”  

You had stopped referring to him as Binnie since you had starting ‘dating’ him. You had deliberately not thought about why that was. 

“It’s not the same at all! Lunch is casual and boring! Our parents are there! We should go on a real date, have some fun!” 

“Maybe your relationship needs a fun injection but mine doesn’t.” 

You could see her rolling her eyes, hear the stomp of her foot on the floor. 

“Kim Mikyong,” your sister said and needed to say no more. When she full-named you, you knew it meant she wasn’t taking no for an answer, and you had given up fighting her on it because she showed surprising restraint in using it.  

You sighed. 

“When do you want to go?” 

“Ah! Perfect! I’ll ask Channie and get him and Changbin to set it up! It’s going to be so much fun!” 

She hung up without bothering to say goodbye and you looked at the phone in displeasure. You didn’t even know if Changbin would agree to it. It had taken so much coaxing to get him to lunch.  

And this was going to be so much worse. 

* 

But you’d been wrong before.  

Changbin lived two floors above you and, shortly before half-six, he was knocking at your door to pick you up for your date—your double date. 

You opened the door and surprise swallowed your greeting. He looked good. He looked like he’d put effort in. You remembered the outfit from one of the times he’d asked your advice; he’d worn this outfit on a date before. Your first instinct was to be peeved that he was recycling an outfit for your date. Then you remembered that you were only pretending to be together. And then you thought, actually, that maybe it was sweet he had put together a Date Outfit for the occasion.  

You’d put on a dress and everything, too.  

“You look nice,” he said, still standing in your doorway. 

“Thank you,” you replied sincerely. “So do you.” 

It was quiet in the lift as you descended, and you jumped a little when Changbin took your hand as you left the building. He looked at you, quizzical. 

“Sorry, just forgot what we were doing for a second.” 

“Hey, I’m happy not to hold your hand, but this was your rule.” 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine; it’s good. I mean, we should. It’s safer. We should. I just- I just forgot; surprised me.” 

You squeezed his hand in yours, because it was there to squeeze, and you realised you felt nervous. Your sister had been right: this was different. Lunch was casual. This wasn’t. You tried to remember how your sister had previously acted on double dates, but she hadn’t been able to get you on one since you were with your ex and that was a long time ago now.  

You wondered how Changbin would act. He had been so keen to play the game and embarrass you up until now; would tonight be the same? He seemed normal so far, but he didn’t have his audience yet. And everyone was still sober.  

* 

Your sister cooed and stretched across the table to you and Changbin, grabbing your hand and his forearm and giving a squeeze. 

“Oh, I’m just so happy!” she exclaimed, and you could tell by the way she scrunched her nose as she smiled that she was in one drink too deep. “I want you two to be so happy! Aren’t they happy, Channie?”  

He grinned at his wife and nodded before turning towards you.  

“Are you happy?” 

You shrugged which was very clearly the wrong answer. 

“Mikyong!” Hani hit the table with her palm.  

You shrugged again. 

“What?! What do you want us to say? I’m not going to fucking rhapsodise about it at the dinner table!” 

That was a mistake. You’d have seen it coming one bottle of soju ago and you wouldn’t have set foot in that trap. 

“Then I will!” Changbin said, tossing back his maekju, punctuating the end of his sentence with the thunk of the glass on the table.  

You groaned, inwardly and then out loud. Changbin turned to look at you, a sweet, shit-eating grin on his face. 

“I feel honestly amazed,” he began, his eyes widening in what you knew he hoped your sister would take for some kind of wonder or awe. “It seems so weird that we didn’t see it before.” He took your hand, and you clenched your teeth so hard your jaw hurt. “It feels so natural to be together, y’know? I’m more than happy! I’m comfortable and content; being with your best friend is the greatest thing in the world.” 

Hani cooed for so long, you worried she’d run out of breath. She held a hand to her heart, and you almost thought you saw tears in her eyes. She could give Changbin a run for her money in the dramatics department. You didn’t see Chan’s reaction because he hid his face taking a drink. Changbin had promised, as part of the rules, not to tell anyone else and you trusted him, but Chan would be the person he’d tell. Which worried you. Because you could fool your sister; your sister was a fool. Chan wasn’t.  

* 

You kicked Changbin as you got up from the table and made sure you walked behind your sister and brother-in-law so you could punch him in the arm for good measure. 

“What the fuck was that?” you hissed, face hot with alcohol and anger. 

“What was what?” 

“That disgusting little speech you gave! ‘Oh, it feels so natural! I’m so content!’. Are you fucking kidding me?” 

Changbin chuckled and nuzzled his nose into yours. 

“Oh, baby, don’t you feel the same? You’re going to break my heart!” 

“Shut the fuck up! How am I supposed to break us up when you say shit like that?” 

He shrugged. 

“I believe that is your problem. Besides which, you promised I’d come out smelling of roses so I can say as much saccharine, embarrassing crap as I like and you can just ditch me like the cruel and heartless being you are. Problem solved.” 

“And you want everyone to pity you for having your soft heart broken by me? Because that’s what’ll happen! They’ll ooh and ah and ‘poor Binnie’ you for weeks. And how are we supposed to continue being friends if you’re that heartbroken?” 

You could tell by his silence that he was annoyed to not have a quick retort. 

“See? You’re trying to embarrass me and make me squirm and yeah, it fucking works, but you’re also prolonging this! You’re making it harder than it has to be!” 

“Oh, whatever!”  

* 

The four of you stood on the subway, going in the same direction for at least part of the way home. Hani and Chan only had eyes for each otherour sister claimed they were ‘still newlyweds!’ but you didn’t think that, after over a year of marriage, she had any right to do so. You were glad that they were busy being moony-eyed at each other; it meant you and Changbin could relax a little, finally out from underneath the scrutiny of the pair. You weren’t holding hands, but you leant a little against his solid body, letting him support you as the train twisted and jostled you.  

You wouldn’t have cared—wouldn't even have been looking--a few drinks ago but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the two of them. Envy grew like mould in your heart. You were happy for your sister, of course you were, but you wanted that. You wanted it for yourself. You wanted someone to look at you the way Chan was looking at Hani right now. You wanted marriage. You wanted that happily ever after shit that you knew didn’t really exist, at least not like in all the stories. But you wanted someone to believe it. Wanted someone to promise it to you even if it was beyond their power to enforce.  

It made you bristle, made you annoyed. At anyone. Everyone. Hani. Chan. Changbin. Yourself. You’d made this bed. It wasn’t as if you had been dating anyway, but now you had removed that as an option; you couldn’t even try to find what your sister had and it was all your own fucking fault. You watched as Hani took hold of the lapel of Chan’s jacket and lifted onto her tiptoes to press a giggly kiss to his mouth; you didn’t manage to hold back the scoff, didn’t manage not to roll your eyes.  

Your sister rolled hers in return and tutted. 

“What, Miki? I can’t kiss my husband?” 

“I didn’t say anything.” 

“Your face says it all. Kiss your own boyfriend, why don’t you? And stop looking at mine.” 

“He’s not your boyfriend.” 

“No, he’s my husband and you’ll never get one if you keep going around on dates with a face like that.” 

“Hey,” Changbin says, smiling beneficently, “I like her sour, ugly face.” 

You punched him hard on his left pec and he ‘oof’ed quietly but it didn’t stop him smiling.  

“Yeah?” Hanbyeol challenged. “That’s a face you want to kiss, huh? Really? Don’t believe you.” 

Changbin reflected her challenge in his eyes as he looked down at you.  

“Maybe I don’t want to kiss him,” you spat, glaring at your sister, ignoring Changbin’s offer.  

“Oh, Mikyong, you are a bitter old maid, you bitch. Let your boyfriend kiss you if he wants!”  

Did he want? 

Your heart was beating faster than you’d have liked. Your mouth went dry when you finally turned to Changbin to acquiesce. This hadn’t been part of the deal. Did he really want to do this? You didn’t. This was weird. It would be weird! How could you pull this off? It was your first kiss! Changbin was about to kiss you for the first time! His face was leaning down! He was really going to do it! How could you let him get this close? How can you pull away without ruining everything? What should you-! 

His lips were soft and the kiss was gentle. Lasted no more than a second. It took longer for you to come around from it, your mouth pouting and open, looking at Changbin as if you were lost and he would show you where to go. He lifted one side of his mouth in a lopsided grin and winked. 

That broke the spell.  

“Happy now?" you asked your sister, your ‘ugly, bitter old maid’ face back on-screen. 

She rolled her eyes, good-naturedly.  

“Whatever, Miki. You are so easy to tease.”  

She said it all looking dreamily at her husband and it made your stomach drop. She only had eyes for him. He only had eyes for her. You were desperately trying not to look at your ‘boyfriend.’ You didn’t know where he was looking.  

* 

You got off the train a few stops later, leaving Chan and Hani on it. You were itching to be by yourself. You had to process what had happened. Changbin had kissed you. Kissed you. Sure, he was goaded into it; he did it because your sister told him to. But he still did it. You didn’t know how you felt about it. After just ten minutes, you were starting to believe it hadn’t even happened, that you had somehow imagined it. Because you and Changbin didn’t kiss. Even though you were pretending to be together. You didn’t kiss. That didn’t happen. 

Changbin walked you to your door when you reached your floor and you turned in the doorway, looking at him as sour as you’d ever been. 

“Going to try to kiss me goodnight?” you asked, jeering and hating yourself for it.  

Changbin looked at you, a little hurt, a little annoyed, a little fucking tired of your prickly temper.  

“No,” was his simple reply.  

You didn't say anything back, but he didn’t leave, so you each stood in silence, one either side of your doorway. You knew he wanted to say something as mean-spirited as you had; you knew he was better than that so he wouldn’t. 

He turned his body slightly away, as if to leave, and then looked at you, mostly just sad, you thought. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. We haven’t talked about that; we haven’t agreed anything on that. I just thought you’d want to show your sister. Prove it or something. So I’m really sorry. I’ll see you later.” 

He was walking away and you could taste something bitter in your mouth: your own temper, your impatience with people, your totally unfair expectations of people that were better than you but liked you anyway.  

Steeling yourself and clenching your fists, you followed after him. 

“Changbin,” you called softly, prompting him to turn around.  

You took his hand in both of yours. 

“I’m sorry, too. Sorry I’m such a bitch. The kiss was fine. Thank you. It was good. Probably necessary; I don’t know. Thanks. I guess. Sorry.”  

Changbin just laughed and pulled you into a rib-squeezing hug. 

“You are so fucking stupid.” 

He was very, very right. 

* * * 

Changbin knocked at your door and entered your apartment with far less cheer than he might normally. You hadn’t spoken about the kiss since it happened and there had been no repeats of it. Things had fallen back into your new normal ‘friends who are pretending to be more than friends’ sham. 

“What’s wrong with you?” 

He sat on your sofa and looked up at you, still serious. 

“Remember how you asked me for a favour?” 

You asked him for lots of favours but you immediately knew which he was referring to. 

“Yes.” 

“Remember how you said it’d be over quickly?” 

“... Yes.” 

You did not like the direction this was heading in, but he was owed, you knew that, so you determined to meet your fate with grace. 

“Remember how the very night you asked I had a date?” 

“Yes.” 

“Remember how long ago that was?” 

“... A month?” 

He hummed and nodded.  

“I was going to have sex that night, but I didn’t get to. Why?” 

“Because I made you cancel so you could fake-date me.” 

“Exactly. Know what that means?” 

You couldn’t see where he was heading because- well, you could see, but you didn’t really know what the favour was going to be. You weren’t sure you wanted to find out.  

“Uh, I don’t know.” 

“It means it’s been well over a month since I last had sex. Because of you.”  

“I’m sorry?” 

He chuckled and his face brightened. 

“I don’t want you to be sorry, babe-”  

You had long stopped flinching at the terms of endearment as they leaked into your non-fake-dating time, too. If Changbin had noticed, he didn’t let on, but you were aware every time he called you anything other than your name.  

“-I’m just saying. Aren’t you bothered? It’s not like you’ve been getting any either.” 

You shrugged. 

“No. I guess I’m not that bothered? I don’t know; I’ve been longer without. A month isn’t exactly that long. And it’s not like there aren’t ways to entertain myself.” 

“Don’t you get bored of that though?” 

You laughed. 

“Did you really come here for masturbation tips?” 

The tightened curl of his lips and aversion of his eyes told you he was embarrassed and he was never embarrassed. 

“No,” he answered pointedly. “I actually came to suggest that we have sex.” 

“What?!”  

The shock brought you out of your chair. He could not be serious. 

“What?” he returned. “We’re already fake-dating! Why not make a bit of it real? It doesn’t have to mean anything. Except both of us getting some... release. Relief. Call it stress relief! From the stresses of pretending to be dating. It’ll make the pretence easier, too, since it doesn’t seem like you are going to actually break us up anytime so-” 

“I am! I am! I’m working on it...”  

You couldn’t help the whine that crept into your tone. You were working on it. Or at least, you had been. It was too difficult. How could you find a way for your relationship to end and for you to remain friends at the end of it? And with each day that passed, it got harder, because your ‘relationship’ had gone on longer. And everyone was expecting it was getting more and more serious – especially as it was built on the foundation of your very solid, very real friendship.  

“Ok and while you work on it, we could be having sex.” 

“Changbin...” 

He regarded you carefully and you looked back, hoping you looked as pathetic as you felt.  

“You don’t have to say yes. I won’t take it personally. I just... I honestly just really want to get laid and you are the only person I’m allowed to have sex with at the moment. So you’ve really stitched me up here.” 

You sank down next to him on the sofa and laid your head on his shoulder. 

“I am sorry. I really didn’t mean for it to go on this long. I didn’t mean to stitch you up. It’s kind of got out of hand--. I actually didn’t mean to create this mess at all. My sister sometimes just brings out the worst in me.” 

“Yeah,” Changbin replied, patting your knee. “Family can do that.”  

There was a brief lull and then Changbin slapped his own thighs and stood. 

“Well, if you don’t want to have sex, I’m out of here.” 

“I didn’t say that!” 

He raised an eyebrow at you, and you were furious that your cheeks had the audacity to warm. You were a grown woman; he was a grown man. You should at least be able to talk about sex. You did talk about it! You had discussed it! 

But it was different when it was this – the two of you having it. Together. There was a line there. And he may have made some good points (you weren’t getting any; as long as you were pretending to date each other, you couldn’t sleep with anyone else; it would make the pretence easier), but suggesting it didn’t have to mean anything? Surely it meant something. It had to mean something! Friends didn’t just fuck their friends. That never worked. It always made things weird.  

Weirder than they already were? Wasn’t it already weird that you pretended to be together whenever you saw any of your friends, any of your family? Wasn’t it already weird that Changbin was so used to calling you ‘babe’ and ‘baby’ and god knew what else that he said even when you were alone? Wasn’t it already weird that you didn’t hesitate anymore, that the words ‘I have a boyfriend’ fell from your lips without your even having to try? Wasn’t it already weird that you were... getting used to this? Enjoying it even?  

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to. I also didn’t say I did. I don’t know. Don’t you feel like it would be weird?” 

He shrugged. 

“Maybe. Kind of too horny to care.” 

“Seo Changbin!” 

“What?! I'm being honest!” 

“I’ll think about it, ok?” 

“Sure. No pressure. I mean it.” 

“I know.” 

You did know. You would trust him with your life, and he was the softest little goober you’d ever met. That he might pressure you was not your concern at all.  

* 

You were true to your word: you thought about it. On and off over the next couple of days you thought about it. How much further over the line was it, really? You held hands. You had already kissed, a little. Ok, once. Was sex really such a leap? It would lend a lot of credence to this stupid lie you were both living. And you would get to have sex.  

But it would be with Changbin. What if he was bad at it? What if you discovered you were bad? What if his dick was weird? What if he liked stuff you hated? Or vice versa? You didn’t know if you believed that sex could be Just Sex, but, even if it could, that didn’t mean it wasn’t complicated. There were factors. A lot of them.  

A week and a half later, you thought you were experiencing déjà vu when Changbin entered your apartment again, asking for a favour. 

“Sex again?” you asked as you shut the door behind him. 

“Not exactly. It’s more embarrassing.” 

You did not attempt to hide your glee. 

“I love it; please ask immediately.” 

“Last time I asked about sex, you implied that you didn’t get bored getting yourself off. I’m asking, how? ‘Cause I’m looking at my hand like it’s my fucking enemy at this point.” 

You laughed. 

“Do not laugh!” he shouted. “I’m in actual need. I’m in agony. Please. Tell me how to make it more interesting for myself.” 

“I mean... Firstly, we have different parts, so my experience is not directly applicable to you. Secondly, how can you be that bored? Have you seriously never gone this long without sex in your adult life?” 

He shrugged but you recognised the look on his face: the one where he tried to hide a smug, gloating, little grin.  

“Are you seriously telling me you haven’t gone more than two months without sex?” 

“I haven’t had to!” 

“Oh my god.” 

You were in half a mind not to help, feeling like it might somehow expose you as undesirable, because you had been more than two months without; two months was currently very much in your rear-view mirror at that point.  

“Well,” you began, leading him into your bedroom, “for a start, if you’re only using your hand, then you are in for a treat. An entire world awaits you.” 

You knelt down next to your bedside cabinet and gathered all your toys, laying them out on the bed with a flourish. Changbin looked a little overawed.  

“That’s a lot of stuff.” 

“Yeah and you know you have to use them all at once?” 

For a second, he believed you and his eyes grew as wide as you had ever seen them before he scowled at you. 

“Shut the fuck up. I came to you for help. You owe me.” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m just teasing. Now, like I said, a lot of these won’t be applicable to you, or might be but I cannot vouch for any kind of pleasure or satisfaction because most were designed for vulvas and vaginas and not penises.” 

“I love it when you talk dirty to me.” 

“Oh, now who’s teasing?! You want help or not?!” 

“I do! Sorry! Fine, carry on.” 

“Ok, well, this,” you held up a rather unwieldy, slightly inelegant thrusting toy, “is my favourite. It does not look sexy but it sure as shit feels it. The problem with the others-” you gave a sweep of your hand over a few other insertables on the bed- “is that I have short arms and sometimes I just can’t get the angle I need and keep a firm grip on them, right? Which is why this one is so good.”  

You stopped yourself just as you were about to- to what? Demonstrate? You put it back down on the bed in a hurry. 

“Ok, well, I don’t need anything like that.” 

“No?” 

“I top.” 

“Right. Ok.” 

You lifted another, much smaller toy. 

“That looks like something you’d use to clean your face.” 

“I cannot recommend it for that. If you want to get someone to squirt though, she’s your man.” 

Changbin looked surprised. 

“Ever made anyone squirt?” you asked, not sure if he would answer. 

He shook his head. 

“No, me neither... Except myself. With this. I’m not saying it’s guaranteed but she knows how to get the job done, y’know?” 

“Huh.” 

He took it from you, examining it as if he could learn its secrets from looks alone.  

“It’s a suction toy,” you clarified. “Works on the clit. Sucks. Hard. Not entirely sure what you might get out of it, but y’know, if you want to give it a try...”  

You laughed, feeling a little heat on your cheeks. It was both exceptionally weird and very not weird to be talking to Changbin like this.  

“Isn’t that weird?” he asked, looking at the toy in his hand like it was a live grenade. “To use your sex toys?” 

You shrugged. 

“They’re clean if that’s what you mean.” 

“Wasn’t suggesting they aren’t. It’s just... Isn’t that kind of intimate?” 

You hadn’t thought about it before, but he had a point. And the more you thought about it, the more intimate it seemed. These toys, all of them, had been used on you, had brought you to climax over and over again in the time you’d owned them. They knew your secrets; you were exposing your secrets to Changbin by even showing them to him. If he used them, too? A shiver like ice water slipped down your spine.  

But he was the one who had previously suggested you have sex. This was less intimate than that, right? 

You shrugged. 

“It’s just a thing, really,” you replied, even though it wasn’t at all what you thought. You moved the conversation on quickly. “I guess you’re not interested in butt plugs if you don-” 

“I didn’t say that.” 

You looked at his face but he was looking at the spread on your bed, his eyes roving across the row of plugs on the right.  

“Ever used one?” you ventured, a little tentatively, not sure if it would constitute a slight to suggest he had or hadn’t.  

He shook his head and you noticed the tips of his ears redden. 

“I probably don’t need to tell you to go careful,” you began, taking a few of the options away, the ones that were too big, a little too intimidating for a first-timer. “But you should go careful. Start small, start smooth. And never, ever insert anything without a ba-” 

“Yeah, I know!” 

His ears were redder now. He still had your suction toy in his hand and you could see how tightly his fist was clenched around it. It confused you because Changbin couldn’t possibly be that embarrassed. Could he? 

Silence fell and you weren’t sure what to say. Should you tell him which one to pick? Did you have to advise him how to use it? How could you do that when you had no idea the sort of things he liked? You wiggled your toes in your socks and tipped up lightly onto them before bringing your heels back down. 

“Ok,” you began slowly when it was clear he wasn’t going to speak. You picked up a little purple plug, soft silicone, bubbles of increasing size. You handed it to him and shrugged. “Give something like that a try. See how you like it.” 

Changbin didn’t look at you. He looked at the plug. He put the suction toy back down on the bed and continued to look at the small, beaded rod in his hand. 

“Uh,” you continued. “Ever used a cock ring?”  

He let out a comically enraged cry and stalked from your bedroom. 

“Bye!” he called, not looking back as he pulled open your front door and let it slam shut behind him. 

“Hey!” you shouted after him, catching his arm just as he walked out your front door.  

He stopped and turned. 

“You know the internet exists, right? Wouldn’t that have been less embarrassing than coming here and asking me?” 

He scowled, let out another anguished shout and stalked off. 

You laughed because you had to laugh, because he could have just used the internet—it would have been quicker, easier, less embarrassing, and probably more helpful. But he didn’t. He came to you and asked for your secrets. You didn’t know what that meant.  

There were nerves fluttering in your stomach that made you feel awkward and self-conscious. It felt like a line had been crossed somewhere. Not a bad line? But a line nonetheless.  

You returned to your bedroom and surveyed your collection left on your bed and wondered if you might take a few for a spin yourself. You decided not to. Changbin was in your head and if there was one person in the world you did not want to be thinking about, it was him.  

* * * 

You tried not to think about it anymore. Sex. Changbin. Any thoughts that involved either sex or Changbin. Nothing that strayed into that territory. It was a hornet’s nest, you’d decided. Nothing good could come from opening that can of worms. He could use each and every single one of your toys if he wanted but not your body. No. No. Nope. 

But you were having trouble focusing your mind. You were ovulating and this month in particular was being a real fucker. Your body was punishing you for being single. It was sick and tired of preparing a baby house and having you not put a baby in it. It was doing its damnedest this month to make it happen. 

You were out of your mind horny.  

You were beginning to sympathise with Changbin. You were, unfortunately and no matter how much you tried not to, thinking about his offer. His request. You were thinking about doing him, and yourself, that favour he’d asked.  

It couldn’t be that bad, could it? It could be good. He’d made some fair points. And you were curious now, you had to admit. You’d not, before this whole fake-dating thing, given much thought to how Changbin fucked, but your curiosity had been piqued. You hadn’t had your butt plug returned and you could only assume that meant he was enjoying it, though he hadn’t confirmed either way. You wondered if you could entice him to spice things up a little more. You wondered what he did. What he sounded like. What he- 

“Fuck!”  

You slammed your hands down on your desk and took a deep breath. You were not supposed to be thinking about this. You were supposed to be—you moved your mouse to wake your monitor—creating yet another tedious spreadsheet.  

You: you working rn? 

Bin: no. gym 

You: later? 

Bin: come over after work 

‘Oh good’, you thought to yourself sourly, ‘that gives me four more hours of this. I’ve got to stew on this for four fucking hours before I can even broach the topic.’ 

The thought made you sick. You didn’t examine why. You worked for five more minutes, messaged your manager to say you weren’t feeling well and logged off.  

Then you left your apartment and went down to the gym. 

* * * 

You were having a great day. A fantastic day, in fact. That was what you were telling yourself. Because you were about to hit a new deadlift PR and that made it fantastic, as long as you ignored everything else going on in your life. Which is exactly what you were doing. 

You were looking down at the bar on the floor, heavily loaded, and you were talking to it nicely. You were a team: you, the bar, the weights on either end of it. You were a team, and you were going to do this thing together.  

You took a deep breath, taking no notice of the guy a few metres away who was watching you. You didn’t care about him. You never cared about men in the gym because the gym was yours. And no two-bit, ’roided-out gym bro was ever going to put you off your stride. And certainly not today. Let him watch. You’d show him.  

You adjusted your feet and shook out your hands before placing them on the bar. You favoured a mixed grip. You got into position, took a breath in, braced your core, and lifted.  

It flew. 

This was not a weightlifting gym, or anything close to that; it was the gym in your apartment building that came ‘free’ with your exorbitant rent, so you had to carefully lower the weights back to the floor. Then you allowed yourself a loud, crowing whoop and a double fist-pump. 

You stood straight, victorious, not even trying to hide the grin on your face and, when you tuned back into the world, the man who had been watching you was clapping. You whipped around to face him, assuming the worst, assuming he was patronising you or mocking you, but he grinned brightly at you. 

“PR?” he asked.  

You nodded dumbly.  

“Nice one. Congrats. You made it look easy.” 

He smiled and nodded once at you and then turned back to his own workout: a push day, it looked like, as he sat down on an inclined bench and lifted two enormous dumbbells to his shoulders. 

Huh. 

That was nice. You didn’t have many nice interactions with men at the gym. Men like him anyway. He was big, hulking, probably bulking given the softness of his skin on his arms, the fit of his tight T-shirt. You’d noticed him before, once or twice; he must live in the building to be using the gym but there were hundreds of people living here so that didn’t help much. He lifted heavy and kept to himself. That was really all you knew. 

It distracted you somewhat from your victory, this guy. This nice guy who might actually have been normal. You turned back to the bar and tried to get back in the zone, remember just what you were doing. But that had been it. You were going to PR the fuck out of this lift and then stretch yourself into oblivion.  

It was only when you were moving to the free area, walking past him, that you realised you hadn’t responded when he congratulated you. 

“Thanks, by the way,” you said as you passed, timing it carefully so you wouldn’t take him by surprise with 20 kilos above his head.  

He smiled again. 

“You’re welcome. You’re not trying for more?”  

He nodded to rack, where you’d put everything away. You shook your head. 

“Quitting while I’m ahead.” 

“Well, you really did make it look easy. I reckon you’ve got more in you.” 

He meant with regards to deadlifting. He meant he thought you could probably take another five kilos, or maybe even ten, but it was exactly the sort of thing you needed to hear at that moment and a lump formed in your throat. It took you off-guard and you felt your cheeks heat. You just nodded and moved quickly to the floor where you put yourself in child’s pose to hide your face.  

You focused on counting your breaths and moving slowly between stretches. You didn’t look his way again when you left. You returned home, sat heavily on your sofa and cried. 

* 

That had been your first interaction with Changbin. And for a while it was your only interaction. Your workouts didn’t overlap and you didn’t see him in the corridors. 

Then you walked into the gym on a grey, cold November morning, barely awake and not looking forward to exercise. There were a few others there already: a much older man walking slowly on the treadmill, a very bendy woman working through some yoga on the mats, and that guy. The one from your deadlift PR.  

You were pleased to see him, though you couldn’t have said why. He had, technically, made you cry. Even though it wasn’t anything at all to do with him and everything to do with your relationship falling apart around you and your self-worth being at rock bottom and your absolute desperate need for a win, even a tiny win, anything.  

Still, it was nice to see him again.  

You took to a treadmill to try to shake off your sleep and then moved slowly through an upper body workout. Everyone always said they hated leg day but you? You hated arms; you hated chest; you hated back and shoulders; you hated pushing and pulling. What you wouldn’t have given for squats that frosty morning.  

You had just placed your dumbbell onto the floor with an unforgiving thud, setting your timer for a 30-second rest when he approached you.  

“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” he began, and he did sound it, “do you have just a minute to spot me?” 

You couldn’t answer immediately. You? He wanted you to spot him? He could probably bench you; how on earth would you be any good to him? 

“Me?” you asked. “Are you... sure?” 

He just looked towards the old man on the treadmill (yoga woman was already finished and out of the gym) and shrugged. You giggled and stood. 

“I’ll do my best.” 

“Thank you!” 

You followed him to the squat rack and tried to do your quickest maths to calculate the weight he was attempting. You grimaced internally; that would break your fucking back. But you didn’t want to make him feel nervous or to knock any of his confidence, so you pretended you were confident, too, offering up your arms as he lodged himself beneath the bar. You kept your hands hovering as he stepped back, as he lowered, as he pushed up.... It was shaky and slow and you were genuinely worried for a second that you would have to really do something, but he made it. He took two steps forward, dumped the bar on the rack and let out a cry that was far too loud for the hour.  

You laughed. 

“PR?” 

He grinned. 

“You know it.” 

“I wish I could say you made it look easy but...” 

He laughed, properly laughed, and shook his head. 

“Why are you trying to ruin this moment for me?” 

You laughed in return and introduced yourself. 

“I’m Miki.” 

“Changbin,” he offered in return, holding his hand out for you to shake. 

* 

And that had been that. Somehow, though you didn’t quite know how, your workouts began to coincide more and more; you began to chat between sets; he continued to ask you to spot him despite knowing that you could do no such thing. Then one day you asked him to hang out outside the gym.  

Now you couldn’t shake him. Even if you’d wanted to. Which you didn’t. Never had.  

* * * 

You could literally feel yourself salivate as you watched him lift and you could not believe yourself to be such a basic, animal being. Humans were supposed to be above all that ‘in heat’ stuff, but apparently you weren’t. You were watching him—leg day, beautiful leg day—deadlift, watching him hinge, watching the tension on his face, the pump in his quads.... You had officially crossed the line into creepy, but you couldn’t help it. 

You were hot. Literally, physically too warm.  

“Binnie!” you shouted, striding across the room to him. It had slipped out, the first time in two months you’d referred to him as something other than ‘Changbin’. You didn’t even notice. 

He looked at you, confused. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Couldn’t wait until tonight. I need to talk to you.” 

“Is everything ok?” 

You shrugged, as if this was casual. As if you were about to say something normal to him. 

“Everything’s fine, but...” You scanned the room to make sure it was empty. “Look, I’m here to take you up on your offer.” 

The confusion did not leave his face. 

“Offer?” 

You shrugged again. 

“Favour, request, whatever. I want to have sex.” 

His mouth dropped open and he blinked twice before his brows furrowed again. 

“What?” 

“You heard! I want to have sex!” You whispered it, hissed it even, despite the empty room. It was embarrassing to be asking. 

“Ok,” Changbin shrugged. 

You had been expecting a fight, you now realised. You had thought he would protest a little – not necessarily against the sex itself but the fact that he had already asked and you’d turned him down. You thought his ego might make him string it out a little, make you work for it.  

“Ok, so are you finished here?” 

There was the surprise you were after. 

“Now?” 

“Yes, now!” 

“I’m- I’m at the gym!” 

“So finish.” 

“Well, I...” 

“I’ll wait if you really haven’t finished your workout.” 

Taken aback by the turn of events, Changbin looked a little dazed and nodded. 

“I only have a couple of sets left,” he said and you nodded. 

“Cool, I’ll wait for you upstairs. My place?” 

He shrugged, looking as if he had no idea what the right answer was.  

But it had to be your place. It had to be on your ground, not for a home advantage but... something like that. Somewhere you felt in control. Somewhere you felt comfortable. Somewhere you knew exactly what your bed was like and where the condoms were.  

You decided to take the stairs, initially, because you had energy to burn. Then you realised that tiring yourself before the sex was an even stupider idea than the sex itself, so you opened the door at the top of the next flight of stairs and used the lift.  

Bin: gonna shower. Be there in 15? 

You: no come now. 

Bin: ??? 

You: what? 

Bin: I'm sweaty 

You: so? 

When he didn’t reply again, you assumed he was ignoring you and showering anyway, but then you heard the beep of your keypad and the door opened.  

“Can I just ask,” he began, no greeting, “before we do this... What the fuck has got into you?” 

“What?” 

“You were not exactly up for it when I asked about it and now you’re skipping work to fuck me? You’re not even letting me shower?” 

Your face heated with embarrassment, but the mere fact that you were asking for this gave the game away anyway, so was there really any shame in it? 

“I’m ovulating,” you stated, as if that would explain it.  

It would, to you. Possibly to anyone else who menstruated. Changbin looked at you wild-eyed. 

“Uh...” 

You saw his hands just barely raise at his sides, his right foot stepping backwards as if he were trying to surreptitiously retreat. 

“I’m not trying to get pregnant, you moron! I’m ovulating and that means I am out of my fucking mind with- with wanting to get laid! I am desperate.” 

“Well, you sure know how to make a man feel desired.” 

“Oh, shut up. You know the situation we’re in and you said as much to me last time: there is no one else we can fuck right now, but if I don’t fuck someone, I’m going to lose my mind.” 

“What happened to your arsenal of toys?” 

“Not the same and you know it. I just need to be fucked right now. I am desperate; don’t make me say it again!”  

You couldn’t help the impatience and frustration in your tone and you knew it wasn’t sexy, wasn’t encouraging, but there was nothing you could do about it. You were beyond help of any kind other than his cock stuffed inside you. It just happened to make you a little less nice.  

“Don’t shout at me! It’s no wonder you’re single if this is how you proposition men!” 

“This is not how I proposition men! You propositioned me first! I’m just taking you up on it!” 

“Well I’m not going to do it if you’re going to look that fucking angry the whole time!” 

“I’m not angry; I’m frustrated!” 

“Potayto, po-fucking-tah-to!” 

“Are we doing this or not?!” 

Changbin didn’t answer immediately and you swore to yourself that, if he said no, you would be fine with it. You would not explode and die right there on the floor of your living room. And you would not hate him forever. 

He jabbed a finger at you. 

“We’re doing this but you have to not be a total cunt to me the whole time.” 

You decided not to hesitate. You didn’t have the patience for taking it slow anyway but one of you had to be decisive; it would be awkward if there was hesitation and stumbling and embarrassment. He had just confirmed his agreement. He had said you were doing it. So you had to do it. Do the damn thing. You grabbed the front of his T-shirt and pulled him towards you, crashing your lips into his.  

It was nothing like the first kiss. That was gentle and short and chaste and this was everything but. Before you’d snaked your tongue into his mouth, he had hoisted you in the air. You wrapped your legs around his waist, and he carried you to the sofa and lay you down. He moaned when you sucked at his tongue and you moaned back, your hands already pulling his shirt up his chest.  

His skin was damp and sticky with sweat, salty when you put your mouth on it. You didn’t care. You liked the soft animal of his body, liked its power, liked the way it was firm under your hands, unyielding. Liked the way he could so easily have his way with you if he wanted; it’s not like you were weak yourself but Changbin was stronger and you knew you couldn’t take him in a fight. You wanted that. You wanted all that used against you right now. Not to fight but to fuck. You wanted him to fuck you so hard, you couldn’t stand. You could already feel the intense ache in your core as it radiated heat. You needed to be touched. So badly. Now that it was actually happening, you couldn’t believe you had let yourself go so long without it.  

“Binnie,” you panted, clutching the waistband of your trousers, shuffling them down, trying to discard them. “Binnie, touch me, please.” 

He responded with a nip to the delicate skin of your neck and a hand sliding down your stomach.  

“Fucking hell,” he breathed when his fingers found your wet slit. “You weren’t kidding.” 

“What?” 

“You are desperate.” 

“Shut the fuck up, Changbin,” you spat, with perhaps too much bite. 

His fingers withdrew and he leant up on his hands, looking down at you with his brows raised. 

“You can’t ask me to touch you and then speak to me like that when I do.”  

You rolled your eyes and gave him a simpering smile. 

“Aw, does Binnie not like it when I’m not nice to him? Oh, poor Binnie,” you cooed in a baby voice. “Does Binnie like praise, huh? Want me to praise you?” 

His face hardened but he didn’t tell you it was over, that if you were going to behave like that, he’d change his mind. He didn’t say anything and you knew it was because you were right but he didn’t want to tell you. That was one benefit of sleeping with someone you knew so well. You could read him. You didn’t need him to confirm.  

But you also weren’t great at being nice. Praise was not a thing that came naturally to you. And he had said you weren’t allowed to be a total cunt to him. That was fair. You rolled your eyes. 

“Fine, I’ll be nice,” you huffed. “Promise.”  

It was Changbin who rolled his eyes then and looked as if he didn’t believe you but didn’t care either way. He lowered himself down and brought his lips to yours.  

His kiss swallowed the loud sound you made when his fingers found their way south and made their entrance. It had been too long since someone else had got you off. Way too long. You knew it from the way your walls were already spasming, your muscles tightening, your breath catching. 

“Harder,” you gasped when he let your mouth go. “Harder, faster, please.”  

There was a minute pause in which he registered your instruction and then he complied, but it wasn’t enough. 

“Seriously,” you continued. “You don’t have to be nice to me. I want more.”  

His eyes met yours and when he raised his brows this time, your stomach swooped; it was dark and promising and there was something in his eyes that said he was going to give you everything you wanted. 

He slid another finger inside you and drew back so he could focus his other hand on your swollen clit.  

You couldn’t speak. You whimpered and keened and nodded; you clutched at Changbin’s arm and the sofa cushion; you arched your back and drew your feet in. You came with a loud cry and your body flopped backwards, your chest heaving as you got your breath back, your body shaking just a little. 

“Thanks,” you panted. 

Changbin laughed. 

“You’re welcome.” 

You pulled him closer, slipping a hand around the back of his neck to bring your face to his, to kiss him, hard, deep, indulgent.  

“Where do you keep condoms?” he broke away to ask and your mind was still dazed enough that it took you a second. You shook your head, tried to clear it, and pointed into your bathroom. Changbin moved off you and you stumbled as you got to your feet. He was rising as if to go himself, but you waved him off, sat him back down.  

The few steps between him and the bathroom gave you a second to catch your breath, to anticipate what was about to happen with a buzzing kind of glee wailing in your head (and elsewhere). You felt greedy. Insatiable. You wanted to take an entire box of condoms out there and use them all. You wanted to break yourself on him, break him, until there was nothing left of you but dust.  

You took one foil packet from the box and returned to Changbin who was still standing next to the sofa, waiting for you. His black shorts hid the damp spots of pre-cum but couldn’t hide the tent of his erection. You felt your mouth water at the thought of it. An icy streak of doubt passed through you when you realised you’d never seen it before. Never had cause to give it any thought at all. What if it was disappointing?  

Then Changbin dropped his shorts and his boxers, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding.  

“Thank god,” you muttered under your breath, not intending for him to hear, but he cocked his head at you. 

“For what?” 

You snorted. 

“Thank god you have a nice dick.” 

He laughed and you could almost see his pride swell in the way he tucked his shoulders back and raised his head a little, the ever so slightly bashful grin that nevertheless carried a certain smugness. You had never known how he did that: vulnerability and arrogance at the same time. But then again, he was a Leo. 

You wasted no more time. You pushed him back onto the sofa, tore open the condom packet, and rolled it down his length. You held his cock as you positioned yourself over him, making yourself sink slowly. Making yourself take him inch by inch not all at once, because you would never get this first time again and you wanted to savour it. You wanted to remember exactly how he felt, his girth stretching you in a way that bordered on but didn’t cause pain.  

When he was fully sheathed, you sat your full weight on him and took his face in your hands. You kissed him, sloppy and wet and full of tongue, then slowly began to roll your hips. He groaned, squeezed at your glutes, tipped his head back and sighed. 

“Fuck, you feel amazing.”  

You nodded, but he had his eyes closed, and you remembered just exactly who it was you were dealing with.  

“You, too,” you replied. You tucked your face into his neck and keened as you adjusted your angle. You didn’t really talk much, usually. Weren’t sure what to say. Knew you had to say something. You kissed his neck to buy some time, sucking a bruise into his soft skin, tasting the salty tang of his sweat. “Fuck, Binnie,” you whispered. “So good.”  

Lame. But you didn’t have the headspace to dwell on it because it was so good. He fit you just right; you were tight and wet and hot and your legs trembled every time the head of his cock squeezed past your g-spot.  

“I’m gonna flip you,” he grunted, having noticed it, feeling the clench in your walls with each pass.  

Then without another second’s delay, he did, and you were on your back and he was drilling into you with hard, precise thrusts of his hips. You let your head tip back and your mouth hang open, just as he had only moments earlier.  

“More,” you murmured as you felt you lose yourself to it. To him. To the pleasure of it all, the pressure building, coiling like a spring. This was exactly what you had wanted. Needed. The relief of it was breath-taking and that was before the orgasm hit you.  

Then it slammed into you like a train on a track and you cried out. Your eyes squeezed shut and your muscles tensed hard and your cunt clenched tight around Changbin’s thick length. He grunted, he gasped, he cried out, too, spilling into the condom and letting the tension in his body go, just enough to relax, but not so much to crush you.  

When you opened your eyes, stars danced in front of them, the ceiling of your apartment temporarily transformed into a night-sky kaleidoscope. You brushed the hair from Changbin’s face. 

“Relax, Bin, you can’t crush me.” 

He snorted lightly and let himself put his weight onto you.  

Maybe he could crush you. But you could take it. For a moment at least.  

“Thank you,” he said, his breath coming in heavy gasps, his stomach pushing against yours with each inhale.  

You laughed breathily, your lungs buried under his weight, trapped. 

“You’re welcome.” 

He lifted his head and the look on his face was hesitant, possibly even a little shy, but you knew what he wanted because you wanted it too. You drew his face to yours and kissed him, soft and sweet, then a little less, then a little deeper, with a little more urgency, your tongue dancing with his, his teeth biting down on your lips, little moans escaping the both of you.  

It lasted longer than you had intended. So long that you wanted to go again, that you’d recovered enough to want him some more, to want seconds and even thirds. The box of condoms in your bathroom cabinet sprung into your mind and your heart quickened.  

“Hey,” you said quietly, holding his face back from yours so you could look in his eyes. “Do you want to do that again?” 

It took a second for your words to register and he didn’t reply except to bring his lips to yours once more. He twisted his body so he could rest on his forearms above you, then he put his weight onto his left side, his right hand trailing down your body as he kissed you.  

* 

“Ok, now I really have to shower,” Changbin said, standing from the sofa with a long, tired groan.  

“You can shower here if you want,” you said, twisting around to watch him get dressed.  

He smiled but shook his head.  

“No way. I’ve never known a single person who takes less care of their skin than you do. Your soap would strip me like paint thinner.” 

You snorted and rolled your eyes. 

“Whatever. My skin is just naturally soft.” 

Changbin chuckled. 

“You keep telling yourself that, babe.”  

You rose, too, as he reached the door and, without realising it was happening, he turned with his hand on the doorknob and you kissed goodbye. It wasn’t until the door was shutting after him that you realised it had happened. Was that weird?  

You didn’t have the energy for it. You showered quickly and flopped onto your sofa for an ill-advised, late-afternoon, post-coital nap. 

* * * 

The next morning, you woke late and rushed through your morning workout, your morning shower, your breakfast, and hurried out of the door to the office. You made yourself a coffee, logged into everything, and then sat staring blankly at your inbox.  

You had sex with Changbin. Twice. You hadn’t given it enough thought yesterday—not after and certainly not before. But that was crossing a line, right? Sex changed things. You had put him off the first time because you thought it would make things weird, that it would be weird. 

But it hadn’t been. It wasn’t awkward or embarrassing. It was good. So good you’d asked for it again. So good that you could still feel it in your body as you twisted vacantly from side to side on your chair. It had been good for him, too, right? He had been vocal (that much you had expected) but was that acting? 

He had been a very convincing fake boyfriend so far. Maybe it had just been a continuation of the act. 

Except it had been his idea. In the first place, anyway.  

You could feel yourself getting tangled up in knots, so you had a stern word with yourself and set up blocks on your phone so that you might be able to focus better.  

* 

The frustrating thing about it was that you couldn’t talk to anyone. You couldn’t go to any of your friends and say ‘oh my god, I slept with Changbin’ because, as far as they were concerned, you’d been sleeping together for weeks—months!—now. It couldn’t be new, couldn’t be news.  

You stopped at the shop on the way home for a bottle of wine, then you took it two floors beyond your apartment and let yourself in. 

Changbin was on his sofa, shaking a protein drink in a plastic bottle. He looked surprised to see you. 

“Look,” you began immediately, plonking the bottle onto the coffee table and retrieving two glasses from his kitchen cupboard. You placed these on the table and poured a generous glug of wine into each. “I have to talk to you and you are just going to have to go with it because I cannot talk to anyone else about this, alright?” 

“Ok.” 

You took a deep breath and blew it out sharply. 

“I slept with Changbin.” 

His eyes narrowed and he looked from side to side and back to you. 

“Uh... You know I’m Changbin, right? That’s me.” 

“Yes, I know!” you shouted, flinging your hands up, sloshing wine over the rim and onto your trousers. “But I can’t tell anyone else, can I? Because then they would know we haven’t been sleeping together! So you are the only person I can talk to! Just go with it.” Then, to let him know you actually really needed this, you added, “please.” 

“Ok.” 

“I slept with Changbin,” you repeated. 

“Right,” he started, and you could tell he wasn’t quite sure what response was the right one. “Uh, how was it?” 

“Honestly, really fucking good.” 

He grinned, his proud ego shining through, and you slapped him hard on the arm. 

“Shut up!” you hissed, even though he hadn’t said anything. “I’m saying it was good.” 

“And that’s... bad?” 

“No! ... I don’t know! I don’t know anything! Isn’t it weird? Why did we do it? Why wasn’t it weird?! Aren’t you confused?!” 

Changbin looked away for a moment and thought it over.  

“I’m not confused.”  

“You aren’t?”  

He shrugged.  

“Should I be?” 

“It doesn’t affect you at all that we slept together?” 

“Does it affect you? Affect you how?” 

“I don’t know!” you wailed.  

“It’s like I said before, we’re pretending to be dating so we can’t sleep with anyone else. It’s, what did I call it? Stress relief.” 

“You also said you were too horny to care if it was weird, but now we’ve had sex, so the... the pressure is gone, right? As in... We’ve had relief... Does that change things?” 

He shrugged again and it lit a match of frustration within you. 

“Changbin! For fuck’s sake, stop shrugging! Stop being so unbothered by this!” 

“Why do you want me to be bothered?! It sounds like you want it to be weird, to come between us, or ruin our friendship or something!-” 

“-Of course I don’t!” 

“Then why are you here insisting things have to change?” 

“I don’t know!”  

A loud thumping from the apartment next door broke the tension and you both slumped back on the sofa. You would have to stop shouting if you were going to continue this conversation because Changbin had lived here long enough for you know that that was a polite warning call.  

“If it’s made you feel uncomfortable, we don’t have to do it again,” Changbin said, his voice softer now, quieter. 

“I’m not uncomfortable. I could never be uncomfortable with you. It just... I don’t know. Maybe I’m overthinking it. You’re right. It was just sex. And we’re just friends.” 

“Exactly.”  

“Ok.” 

You drained your wine glass and re-filled it, putting your feet up on the table as Changbin switched on the TV. He took a minute selecting something to watch (opting for a youtube video on the best mechanics of the Romanian deadlift which was not as boring as it sounds) and, once it was playing, he picked up his wine glass and asked, without looking at you. 

“But where does that leave us, exactly? Re: sex. Is it off the table?” 

You took a minute to think about it. You didn’t want to say no. Because you knew what it was like now. You knew what you’d be missing. And, if he was right, then it wouldn’t change anything between you. You could have it all. But saying yes still felt like saying something. And you weren’t sure exactly what.  

“It’s not off the table,” you answered quietly, your glass perched on your lips so you could take a drink as soon as the sentence ended. You took a gulp larger than you’d intended and tried not to choke.  

“Ok, then.”  

* * * 

It was so not off the table. It was so on the table that it almost became a permanent fixture. It seemed silly not to. You couldn’t sleep with anyone else while you were pretending to date each other and the seal was well and truly broken. It didn’t feel as though you had anything to lose, not since it became clear that it didn’t change things between you. 

If anything, it made things better.  

It was as if a barrier that you hadn’t known existed between you had dissolved. Pretending to be his girlfriend was so much easier now. You’d always felt awkward about the physicality of it: having to hold his hand, make sure you were near him, the occasional jeering pressure to kiss in front of people as if you had something to prove to them. It was easy now because you’d touched far more than just his hands, kissed him in ways that would be indecent viewed by an audience.  

“You guys seem good,” Chaeyong commented lightly from across the table.  

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. 

“Uh, we do?” 

“When did we seem bad?” Changbin asked at the same time. 

“Honestly, no one had any hope of the two of you making it,” Seungmin added. “You were always so weird with each other. We thought you might have broken up but didn’t want to tell people or something.” 

You and Changbin exchanged a quick glance and you tried not to make it obvious when you gulped and found the inside of your lip between your teeth.  

“You mean you think we were pretending to date?” Changbin asked, thoroughly convincing in his bemused scorn.  

“Fuck knows! But something was going on, for sure.” 

“But you seem normal now.” Chaeyoung smiled sweetly and she looked innocent but, truthfully, she had been your biggest concern: nothing got past her and you were worried that she was still unconvinced.  

“Gee, thanks.” 

Thank god for Changbin, who was unflappable in the face of his own deceptions.  

“We’re saying we’re happy for you, idiots,” Seungmin offered with a withering glare before turning to his other side, where apparently the conversation was of greater interest.  

You turned to Changbin with a slyly triumphant smile on your face, which he returned exactly. You didn’t stop yourself leaning forward to kiss him and he didn’t stop you either.  

* * * 

For the first few weeks of your ‘relationship’, you had genuinely spent time and effort trying to think of a way for the two of you to end it. None seemed satisfactory. You weren’t really an experienced liar (not to this extent) and they all seemed transparent, lame, obviously made-up. It was as if you had never experienced any sort of relationship before because you just couldn’t think of a reasonable way for you and Changbin to stop dating. 

Frustrated by your lack of progress on the topic, you thought of it less and less often. Then you and Changbin started sleeping together and you stopped thinking about it altogether. This situation was working out quite nicely for the both of you. All the fun parts of a relationship with none of the drawbacks.  

You were enjoying it so much, you were annoyed you hadn’t thought of it before. And it seemed like the feeling was mutual. Changbin hadn’t raised the topic of your break-up; he still called your pet names and kissed you in public.  

You had been sure, when you first suggested it, that it would be a disaster. But your desperation to get one over on your sister had been just enough to override that worry. Now, you were certain it was the best idea you’d ever had, and you were very nearly grateful to Hani for forcing it.  

“Hey,” Changbin said softly, catching your hand and dragging you away from the group.  

It was summer and the river park was busy. You had amassed a greater group of people than you’d expected – word going around to friends of friends of friends – and your absence from it would not be noticed quickly.  

Not that anyone would care if they did notice. You were a couple now; you were allowed to disappear by yourselves. 

“Have you met Sakura?” he asked.  

“Uh, yeah, Felix’s friend, right?” 

He nodded. 

“Yeah, I mean, we met today. I don’t know her. Why?” 

“She asked me out.” 

“What?! Doesn’t she know you have a girlfriend?” 

It shouldn’t have bothered you. Because you weren’t his girlfriend, not really. You didn’t have any real claim to him. In fact, this should probably have happened before now, you told yourself. Changbin was a catch; he was hot and fun and kind and, frankly, anyone would be fucking lucky to have him.  

But you had him. As far as anyone knew anyway. Hadn’t you literally been introduced to Sakura as his girlfriend earlier that day? Where the fuck did she get off asking out your boyfriend? 

Changbin shrugged again and you felt your hackles raise. 

“I guess she forgot? I don’t know.” 

“Well, why are you bringing it up to me? Obviously you said no.” 

“I said no.” 

“So why bother telling me? Are you saying you want to go out with her?” 

“I was just checking whether or not I’d ever be allowed to go out with anyone again. Y’know, if you were ever going to end this thing like you promised you would months ago?” 

You started. He hadn’t brought that up for ages. You hadn’t thought about it. You felt strongly that you should not admit to not having thought about it.  

“Of course, I’m going to end it,” you hissed. “Want me to do it right now so you can go over and tell Sakura you’ve changed your mind?” 

“Don’t overreact, Miki. This was always going to end. You specifically promised me that it would, in fact.” 

“And it will! I actually thought we were both ok with things as they were, since we’re both getting something from it, but fine. I’ll have your break-up ready for you tomorrow.” 

You didn’t wait for a response. You stalked off, too angry to notice that you were leaving your phone and your bag and everything else in the park. Too angry to turn back when you did notice. You walked, with heavy, angry footsteps, for a mile or two in the direction of your apartment which was still several miles away. Then you stopped and stood and didn’t know what to do. Your heart was still pounding, your breath coming heavily because you did not commit yourself to cardio in the way you did to lifting, and you were still shaky with anger.  

You could not turn back. The horror of the embarrassment you would feel having to return after storming off was too strong. But you couldn’t walk all the way home. You weren’t even sure exactly which way to go, having never done the journey fully on foot before. You were stranded. You knew your only option was the river. But you decided you would rather die than go back there. You would rather sleep on the street than show your face.  

You continued to stand there, waiting for your anger to fade, to be replaced by worry and, yes, embarrassment. You tried to guess what time everyone would start leaving. It was still light (such was the curse of the summer months) so it was entirely possible that some would stay late into the evening, the night even. You couldn’t stand out on the street for that long.  

“Hey.” 

You whipped around at the sound of his voice. He was five feet away. 

“What do you want?”  

You could see him biting his tongue, being the bigger person.  

“Thought you might you need this,” Changbin said, holding out your bag. 

“Whatever,” you replied, neither turning away nor reaching out for it. 

“Well, if you don’t want it...” 

He went to turn, to walk back the way he had come, but you snatched your bag from his hand. Before he could react, you put your feet to asphalt, as quickly as you could without running. 

“You’re fucking welcome!” he shouted after you. 

You were seething again, your stomach roiling, your blood boiling, sweat pricking in your hair. You walked to the nearest subway station in a kind of red haze, barely aware of your surroundings, cognisant only of your own body and its rage.  

* 

He didn’t call you the next day. 

Or the next day. 

Or the one after that.  

You wondered if that was it. If that would do it. Break you up. Was it already over? The thought pained you, but you were still angry with him. He had pulled you aside to tell you that another woman was interested in him; he had suggested he was interested in her. But he was supposed to be yours.  

He wasn’t yours. You repeated it to yourself, knowing that it should help, that it should make it not hurt, that it should make you not angry with him, that it was the truth. But it didn’t work. You couldn’t make it go away.  

He didn’t call you for a full week and you were scowling at lunch with your sister and her husband, your parents, too. Chan asked if he could speak with you. It shook you from your sour stupor and you followed him without hesitation. 

“So what’s up with you and Changbin?” he asked, casually, as if he weren’t kicking a hornet’s nest. 

“Nothing,” came your sullen reply. 

“Ok... So what’s up with you and Changbin?” 

You scowled some more and kept your mouth shut. 

“There’s obviously something going on between the two of you, and he won’t tell me what it is so I’m asking you. It sucks to see you two like this. You know how happy Hani and I were about you two getting together....” 

If you hadn’t been so self-indulgent with your week-long bad mood, you might have sensed his tone, caught the micro-expressions on his face that were giving you an opening. But you had been self-indulgent, so you missed them all.  

“If he won’t tell you, I don’t see why I should.”  

“You don’t have to tell me anything, but I thought I would ask you myself before I tell your sister.” 

He had your full attention now.  

“What do you mean tell my sister?” 

“I mean tell her that I’m worried that something has happened between the two of you. You’re fighting or not speaking or somethin-” 

“How do you know that?” 

“Because I know both of you? Changbin has been out of sorts all week and you have barely touched your food, barely uttered a word except to be as horrible to your sister as you’ve ever been.” 

Chan never told you off. He never told anyone off. You felt chastened and shamed but that only fuelled your anger.  

“Fine, I’ll go.” 

“That’s not what I said.” 

“I’m clearly not wanted here if I’m so horrible to your precious, little wife-” You saw the way his jaw clenched and you knew that he would kick you out himself if you said much more; it felt good, pushing that button. Made you feel like you had a little bit of control, a little bit of power. “As if I ever gave a shit about her anyway. I only come to these stupid lunches because my parents make me. I hate coming. I hate Hani. I hate you. And I fucking hate Changbin!” 

Chan said nothing. He looked at you with dark, furious eyes and took hold of your elbow. He escorted you carefully to the front door, waited while you put on your shoes, handed you your things, and shut the door firmly behind you.  

You wished you could scream. You immediately ordered a taxi and waited impatiently until you got home. Then you picked up your pillow, pressed it to your face and let rip. You raged until your head hurt and then you fell asleep on your sofa, waking in the small hours of the morning with a sore neck. You climbed into your bed and tossed and turned. You did not sleep. You refused to get up.  

When the sun was high in the sky and streaming into your apartment, there came a knock on the door. You thought for five seconds about ignoring it because you weren’t expecting and didn’t want to see anyone. Then you got up to answer it anyway. 

“So apparently you hate me,” he said in greeting.  

Changbin stood at your door. He didn’t let himself in. He knocked. He waited for you to open it.  

Then he said that, and you bit back before you could stop yourself. 

“Isn’t the feeling mutual?”  

Changbin sighed. Rolled his eyes. 

“Ok, let me know when you’ll stop being a cunt and maybe I’ll try again.” 

He walked away and you let him.  

* * * 

You kept waiting for him to come again. He didn’t. You waited for him to call or text. He didn’t. As time went on, you had assumed you would care less, get over it, stop being bothered by it. You didn’t. 

It had started to hurt. It began as a needling kind of pain, sharp but small. Then it began to grow and now you woke with a hole in your chest and bitterness in your heart.  

You thought about him all the time. What he must be telling people. You had refused to talk to anyone about it, refused to go out, shut yourself up in your poky apartment waiting for it all to go away.  

It didn’t. 

There was a knock on your door and you jumped, because it had to be Changbin. Because who else could get into the building? 

Your body physically withered at the sight of your sister. 

“How did you get in here?” you asked. 

“I know your building code, Miki. I know your door code, too, but I didn’t want to just barge in.” 

“Why not? You love barging in. You love poking your nose in where it’s not welcome.” 

Hani did not reply. She sat on your coffee table and gestured for you to take a seat opposite her on your sofa. 

“What do you want?” 

“I came to see if you wanted to talk about it.” 

“Talk about what?” 

Hani closed her eyes briefly and you knew she was rolling them beneath her lids. She was too polite to just do it outwardly, even though it was obvious how she felt.  

“You and Changbin haven’t been speaking much, huh?” 

“Fuck off, Hani.” 

“I know he misses you.” 

“You don’t know anything.” 

“I’m married to his best friend, M-” 

“I’m his best friend!” 

“Ok, ok, I’m married to one of his very close friends. Chan says he’s miserable and I know you are, too.” 

“You don’t know anything.” 

“I don’t know much, I’ll admit that, but that’s because you don’t tell me anything. Have you ever considered that I’d be less ‘fucking annoying’ if you ever let me in? If you ever volunteered information about yourself and your life? I don’t like being the person you think I am. I know you think I’m hen-pecking you, I’m a nag, I’m just like Mum and all the much less kind things you’ve said. But I’m not. You just think I am because you take every question as an attack; you think every inquiry is an interrogation.  

“You are the spikiest person I’ve ever met and the reason I was pushing the boyfriend thing with you is because you’ve got worse since you and-” 

“Don’t say his name-” 

“... Since the break-up. You were spiky before but now you’re mean and you’re bitter and miserable. And I know you want to be happy, so I pushed it. And then you got with Changbin and I was so happy. You were so happy. Now you’re going to ruin it all by being your-.” 

“That’s why I think you’re a cunt,” you interrupted. “I’m going to ruin my relationship by being myself? Thanks a fucking bunch.” 

“I was going to say you’re going to ruin it by being your worst self. Your scared self. Your angry, short-tempered self that lashes out at people. You have a soft centre, Miki, but you also have a moat full of spikes and a portcullis. You have thorns and a dragon guarding you.  

“But I saw the way you looked at Changbin and I haven’t seen you look like that for a long time. Even towards the end of your last relationship, you’d lost it. But you had it back. And I don’t want you to throw it away.” 

You didn’t reply because you didn’t have anything to say. You couldn’t argue with the truth, but you weren’t going to tell her she was right. You couldn’t take it.  

You’d spent your whole life feeling like the fuck up, the first pancake, compared to Hanbyeol and her ability to get everything right. She had one boyfriend before she went to university and they were sweet and innocent and didn’t even sleep together. Then she met Chan on her first day at university and they’d been together ever since. She graduated with a perfect degree and got a good job on a good career path and has been walking it ever since.  

You slept with your first boyfriend at the age of 15 and he promptly dumped you. You spent four years on an art degree that went fucking nowhere and did nothing for you. You’d had jobs and quit jobs and been fired from jobs; you’d dated and had partners and dumped them and been dumped by them. Nothing stuck.  

“You don’t know anything,” you mumbled sullenly back, your fire extinguished.  

“I would if you told me.” But she wasn’t chastising, wasn’t telling you off. She was just saying it, softly, gently now.  

“I don’t want to talk about it.”  

“That’s ok. You don’t have to talk about it with me if you don’t want. But you should talk to Changbin. He really does miss you. And I really don’t want you to miss out on what you had with him because you’re afraid or being stubborn. Sometimes you have to meet people halfway, Miki; it’s not fair to make him come to you every time.” 

She stood and left your apartment without another word. Your bottom lip wobbled.  

Was it too late? 

* 

You didn’t know where to start. How to start. What to do. Who to turn to. The only person you could talk about this with was Changbin because he was the only person who knew the truth. It wasn’t even a matter of your pride anymore; it would have felt like a betrayal to reveal the secret to anyone else. But you couldn’t just go to Changin, half-cocked, with nothing in your head but a jumble of half-formed sentences and no idea what you really wanted. 

You let another week go by. 

* 

The gym felt stuffy. You were sure the aircon wasn’t working properly because it should not have been that warm in there, even if it was over 30 degrees outside. You were dripping with sweat and  looking around, praying for chalk so you could dry your hands properly. You had given up on the barbell because you didn’t think you’d be able to grip it with such wet hands. You were miserable and grumpy, and the workout sucked. 

Then Changbin walked in.  

You felt sick. Your first instinct was to hide, but there was nowhere to hide. And he’d already seen you. Your eyes caught and he slowed to a stop, just looking at you. You had to make the first move. You knew you had to.  

You stood from the bench and walked towards him, crossing your heart and hoping to die that he wouldn’t walk away.  

“Hi,” you said, your voice small. 

“Hi,” he returned.  

You could barely look him in the eye. You hadn’t prepared for this. 

“It’s pretty unbearable in here, right now. I think the aircon is broken,” you offered, cursing yourself all the while. 

Changbin seemed surprised and he nodded with a small ‘oh’. 

“I think I’ll be fine,” he said. “I wasn’t planning to be long anyway.” 

“Right. Yeah. Ok.” 

It was tugging at your heart, this need to say something, this inability to do so.  

Changbin waited only a few more seconds and then he pointed beyond you and began to move away. 

“Wait!” 

He stopped.  

“I... can we talk? Sometime. Not now. Later. I don’t know. I- I... We should talk.” 

You kept your eyes trained on the ground and could feel his gaze on you. He answered slowly. 

“Yeah, ok. Text me or something.” 

You nodded and scarpered, workout unfinished, but you reached the lift and breathed a sigh of relief. Had that been so bad? You’d survived. You were still in one piece. And he’d agreed to talk to you.  

Part of you wanted to go back and tell him, actually, it has to be now. You wanted to get it over with. Another part of you wanted it to never happen. You still didn’t know what you would say to him.  

* 

You stood, nervously, outside his apartment, waiting for your courage to build to a sufficient level for you to knock on his door. It was taking its sweet time. You weren’t sure if it would ever get there. Your palms were sweaty, the backs of your knees, too. You realised the last time you were this nervous to speak to someone was the day your last relationship ended and you stood outside your shared apartment, waiting for the courage to go in and end it. Have it ended for you. Not by you. You had certainly never been this nervous with Changbin: not the first time you went to your sister’s pretending to be together, not the first time you had sex. You had always felt comfortable with him. 

Now you didn’t. And that was on you. 

You closed your eyes, gritted your teeth, and knocked. The door opened almost instantly. 

“Oh. Hi. That was quick.” 

“I know; you’ve been out there for ages. I’ve been standing here waiting for you to knock.” 

“Oh.” 

Your face flamed so hot, it made your eyes sting. Changbin stood back and gestured you into his apartment. You waited for him to sit on the sofa and then you took your place on the floor, just off to the side. Somehow, you didn’t feel like you could sit equally next to him. You had apologies to make, grovelling to do.  

Changbin waited.  

“I’m sorry,” you offered first. The easiest thing to say because it covered all manner of your sins. 

“What for?” 

Less easy. 

“Everything,” you choked. “For making you pretend to be my boyfriend, for not breaking us up, for my short temper and impatience, for overreacting to the Sakura thing, for not speaking to you. All of it, really.” 

You heard him take a deep breath but didn’t dare look at him. The silence felt stiff. You couldn’t say anything more even if you’d wanted to. You needed to know what his response was first.  

He sighed. 

“They’re not the things I want you to be sorry for... I suppose I should apologise, too.” 

“What for?”  

You were struggling with the silence. If there was one word that could never describe you or Changbin, it was ‘quiet.’ You would have needed more hands to be able to count on fingers the number of noise complaints he’d received from his neighbours. It was never like this between the two of you. It was never awkward like this.  

“I don’t want to say it,” he said eventually. “I feel like shit and I don’t want to say it because I’ll feel even more like shit.” 

“I don’t want you to feel like shit.” 

“That’s how you’ve been treating me.” 

Tears pricked in your eyes and you did your best to swallow the anger that was rising with them. Your temper was the reason you were in this mess; it could not get you out of it. But Changbin continued before you could find a word to say. 

“I got it wrong, obviously. I thought it was going somewhere. Not at first, obviously. But something had changed and I thought, ok, maybe something is happening now. Maybe this... Maybe this could be real. Then it went on longer and longer and I realised how stupid I was to think that. Because you didn’t want anything more. That was clear. That was really clear and I should have seen it long before I did.” 

He sighed heavily and fell back against the sofa cushions. You risked a peek and saw him contemplate the ceiling. 

“I made the Sakura thing up.” 

“What?” 

“I made it up. Of course she didn’t ask me out! She had been introduced to us together. You were introduced as my girlfriend; why would she have then tried something? I just had to see how you’d react. I wanted to... test, I suppose, how you felt.” 

You took your time speaking because you could feel your rage simmering in your gut. You were trying so hard not to be angry, not to react. But he’d lied to you. Manipulated you. This was his fault and all this time you thought it was yours? Why would he do that? 

“Are you going to fucking say anything, Miki?” 

‘Yes,’ you thought, ‘just as soon as I can stop seeing red.’  

“I don’t understand.”  

The words were sharp in your throat, painfully clawing their way out. You could feel Changbin’s patience ebbing away, too, and the whole situation was as if you were dancing on a tightrope. You had thought it would be easy to straighten out: an apology, some reluctant forgiveness, a few jokes and things would be back to normal. Guess not. 

“It made me feel used.”  

His confession was small. Small and quiet so you knew it was real, that he wasn’t after a reaction or a fight. He was just telling you the truth. 

“Used?” 

“I was up for it, at first. I agreed, I didn’t have to but I did. I signed up for it. I know that. Pretending to be your boyfriend was fun to start with. Making you squirm. Though, to be honest, it wasn’t fun that you were so... disgusted by the idea of us being together. The way you flinched every time I touched you or looked nauseated half the time at the thought of us so much as kissing. That wasn’t exactly a balm to my ego. But I could take it. And you got used to it, I thought. Got less disgusted.  

“Then we started having sex and things changed. You changed. And I didn’t really know what it meant but I know you well enough that I knew not to push too hard. I guess I thought, at some point, you would come out and say it. But you didn’t. At all. Things carried on exactly as they were and I realised that’s what you wanted. You didn’t want me for anything more. You wanted to have sex and pretend we were together but you didn’t want to be together. You didn’t want me. You just wanted me to keep up your pretence to get one over on your sister; you wanted the convenience of, I don’t even know what. It was like you liked the idea of being with me but not the reality of it. And I got sick of it, ok?  

“That’s what made me feel like shit. That’s what made me feel used. And I know you; I knew you were never going to talk to me about it. So I made up the Sakura thing. I wanted a reaction from you. I wanted to see if you gave a shit at all.” 

You wanted him to continue, to say things so that you didn’t have to. Because you did give a shit. You were incensed that Sakura dared to ask him out. You were angry with him because you felt like he wanted to go out with her. You felt betrayed by it. Abandoned. Rejected. Surely that had been obvious by your reaction. Surely you didn’t have to say that now? 

Though you still weren’t sure what it meant. Hearing Changbin spell it all out like that: his hurt, the word ‘disgusted’, his hope, your inability to communicate being thrown in your face when you had hoped it was a secret. You didn’t want him to see you like that: inept and selfish and inconsiderate. Used. You had used him. Your first instinct had been to kick back at that, deny it vociferously, scream at Changbin and call him every name under the sun, storm out.  

But you weren’t doing that anymore. You weren’t going to let your temper ruin this. Again.  

Or you were trying.  

“Obviously I give a shit,” you said sullenly, a little sulkily despite your best efforts.  

“I don’t know.” 

“How can you say that you don’t know? Don’t you know me?” 

“Yeah, I know you but I’m really beginning to see the limits of my knowledge. I can’t know everything, Miki. I can’t read your mind. Sometimes you have to say things. Sometimes you have to say things even if the other person already knows them! Things need to be said. They need to be heard.”  

“What things?” 

“I don’t believe you don’t know what I’m talking about.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” You could hear your voice rising but couldn’t stop it.  

“Yes, you do!” His was rising, too. “You know exactly what I’m saying and you know what I want you to say but you won’t say it and that’s the fucking problem, isn’t it?” 

You opened your mouth to argue back but he got in first. 

“Or you really, actually don’t know what I’m talking about and that, in itself, is a problem. Either way, you need to figure it out.” 

His tone was final. Conclusive. Dismissive. But you had only just got started so you weren’t going to leave just yet. 

“Why do I have to figure it out?” 

“Because it’s your problem!” 

“No, it’s not! You’re the one who lied about Sakura! You made this mess!” 

Changbin got to his feet. 

“I made this mess? This entire thing was your idea! I have followed your lead the entire time and you have led me down a fucking merry path! Do you kn-” 

“I’ve been leading?! You’re the one who suggested we have sex!” 

“You’re the one who took me up on it! And I’d never have suggested it if we weren’t trapped in a situation of your making!” 

“You didn’t have to go along with it!” 

“You asked me to! You’re my friend! Friends do each other favours! Of course I was going to say yes!” 

“I didn’t force you to!” 

“Friendship forced me, you idiot! But I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you don’t understand that.” 

“What the fuck does that mean?” 

You were interrupted by a knock at the door. Changbin answered and it was building security, here to offer up yet another warning regarding the noise. Changbin apologised, promised to keep it down and returned to the sofa. 

“Ball’s in your court,” he told you. “It’s up to you.” 

“What’s up to me?” 

You made the mistake of looking up at him and his glare could have turned you to stone.  

“Don’t act stupid, Miki. You figure it out.” 

You wanted to argue. You wanted to have this out right here, right now. Arguing cleared the air. You had been getting somewhere before his pathetic, meddling neighbours had gone and complained about the noise. Maybe you should have made him come to you; your neighbours had never complained, never even made a peep. Maybe you should have gone somewhere open – the park, the river, somewhere you could shout at each other amongst all the noise of the city.  

You didn’t want to leave. 

“Will you just go?” he asked, impatience ringing clear as a bell through his tone. 

You bit the inside of your lip to stop yourself saying no. Then you let it go. 

“No. I’m not leaving.” 

“I don’t have anything more to say to you.” 

“Well maybe I have things to say to you!” 

“Do you?” 

Yes. No. Maybe. They were there somewhere, the words you wanted to say, the words he wanted to hear. You knew they were there, germinating somewhere deep and dark and bloody. You weren’t ready for them to sprout, to grow, to bloom.  

“Miki, I don’t want to ask you again. Please leave.” 

When you remained sitting on the floor, he sighed and turned the TV on; he watched and didn’t look your way. He kept watching and didn’t glance down even once.  

You knew you weren’t going to say anything but leaving felt like defeat. It felt like walking away. It was walking away. You didn’t want to walk away from Changbin. 

You had no choice but to. 

* * *  

“Can I talk to you?” Chan asked, the following Sunday. 

You didn’t get the sense this time that you were in trouble, but you knew you would deserve it if you were.  

“I wanted to apologise,” he began and you started. 

“You want to apologise to me?” 

“Yes. I should have known better than to ask you so directly about you and Changbin. I just didn’t know how to tiptoe around it and, to be honest, I was kind of worried about Changbin; I was thinking of him, not you. So I’m sorry for pushing it.” 

No wonder Hani fell in love with him. 

“You don’t have to apologise to me, Chan. I should be apologising to you. I was rude; you were just being nice. I appreciate it, actually, that you came to me yourself before siccing my sister on me. I didn’t mean what I said.” 

“I know you didn’t.” 

“Did you tell Hani I said it?” 

He chuckled. 

“No, of course not.” 

“Good.” You paused. “Thank you. And I’m sorry.” 

“It’s ok. Air cleared. We’re all good. But... can I ask now about you and Changbin? He said you talked.” 

“Then you probably know everything already.” 

His eyebrow quirked and you weren’t too angry to miss it this time.  

“What?” you asked. 

“I don’t think I know everything.” 

“Enough.” You shrugged. “He says the ball’s in my court, but I don’t know what to do with it.” 

“Don’t you?” 

You could feel your conversation with Changbin started to repeat itself.  

No, you did not know what to do with the ball and you were getting pretty tired of holding it. It was Changbin. Your Binnie. Not your Binnie. Just Binnie. He was your friend, your best friend. He was your fake boyfriend because your sister had bugged you just one too many times about it. He was your friend-with-benefits because you couldn’t both keep the lie going and sleep with anyone else. He was...  

He had said he felt used. You hadn’t felt like you were using him. Or maybe you thought you were using each other, in which case it was fine. You were both benefiting, weren’t you? You got all the perks of a relationship with none of the obligations. It was ideal. It was really the perfect situation. You had thought. 

Changbin obviously didn’t feel the same. You kept running it through your head, the things he had said: 

“I thought it was going somewhere.” 

“Something was happening.” 

“Maybe this could be real.” 

It wasn’t real. That was the whole point. It wasn’t supposed to be real.  

But your anger when Changbin lied about Sakura was real. The sense of betrayal you felt. The abandonment. 

Your comfort with him was real. The ease you felt in his company. The joy and contentment in just lounging around together, with no pressure to be anything other than who and what you were.  

Your pleasure was real, once you started sleeping together. The literally toe-curling, hair-raising, blood-curdling ecstasy he ripped out of you. Gave to you. The soft sweetness of his kisses and the unyielding strength of his body; his smooth, golden skin, and curly, black hair. The noises you’d never heard him make before that you could now conjure up whenever you liked, that echoed in your dreams. All of that was real. It was more than real; it was animal. It was pure. It was mindless and easy and natural.  

Natural, too, it became when you kissed outside of the bedroom. When you leant into him and he pulled you close with his arm around your shoulder. When he held your hand. When he placed a protective hand on your back on the subway, in a bar queue, just letting you know he was there. He was there for you.  

He was right that you’d felt awkward at first. That you hated the pet names and the embarrassment that came with them. You hated him for being mischievous and jeopardising the whole operation by testing your non-existent acting skills. You weren’t sure when that feeling stopped. You were sure it was before you slept together but then you remembered the watershed that occurred afterwards. 

An invisible wall between you had disappeared; a veil had been lifted. It was as if all your interactions with Changbin before that moment had been happening behind a barrier. You were holding hands through the holes of a fence, one of you on either side of it. You were clinging to each other from far away.  

Then suddenly, you weren’t. You were on the same side of the fence. You were not just close but united. Joined. One.  

It hurt your heart to think about it. It hurt so much. It hurt like a break-up. It hurt like heartbreak.  

So you knew the answers. The answer. But you didn’t want to. 

You looked up at Chan, the inside of your lip torn to shreds.  You shrugged. 

“I don’t know what to do,” you said, and it came out tight and choked, tears you hadn’t realised were there stinging in your eyes.  

Chan pulled you into his arms for a hug and, on any other day, you’d have shoved him off, but it came as a relief. You leant into him and wrapped your arms around his waist.  

“You’re a good brother,” you said quietly, trying not to sniffle. “I’m glad Hani married you.” 

“Thanks, Miki. That really means a lot to me, you know.” 

He rubbed your back and you felt like the world’s most pathetic loser, and sickeningly grateful for Chan at that moment.  

“You and Bin can work it out, I promise.” 

You could only hope that was true. 

* * * 

You sat with the answer for longer than you should have. You should have taken it to Changbin as soon as you knew the truth. You even knew what was stopping you. But that knowledge wasn’t helping you get past it.  

You lay on your sofa, rotting, hoping to decay to the point that your decomposing body could leak into the cushions and you could become one with it. You stared at your ceiling. You were putting it off. You didn’t want to do it, but doing anything else felt like defeat, felt like shirking your responsibility, felt like running away. So you just lay and stared and waited for something to make you move.  

The longer you left it, the harder it would be. The longer you left it, the less likely it was that Changbin would respond how you wanted him to. Because you were leaving him hanging. Stringing him along—you had been stringing him along, however unwittingly, for weeks now. That wasn’t fair and he had every right to be angry, to dislike you, to not want anything more. To have changed his mind.  

God, you hoped he hadn’t changed his mind.  

You could scarcely believe that it had been three weeks now that you’d not been speaking. Three weeks with just one argument between you. No wonder it felt like a break-up. Your relationship might technically have been fake, but you had dug deep enough to realise that your feelings weren’t. 

You cringed to yourself. You hated that. You hated thinking about your feelings. You hated that they existed. You hated that they hurt so much, all the time. You hated how much you missed him, how scared you were to lose him.  

That was enough, you’d decided. It hit you over the head, your oldest friend, impatience. You had had enough of this, you said to yourself. Rip the fucking plaster off and, if you bled all over the floor, so be it. At least maybe you’d bleed to death. 

You took the stairs to Changbin’s floor and hammered on his door. No answer. You let yourself in, using his door code. 

“Binnie?” 

The apartment was empty.  

Not wanting to lose any momentum, not wanting either to give him any notice, to initiate any contact that might psych you out or knock you off-course, you decided to head to the gym. It was as likely a place for him to be as any.  

You were right. He was on the floor, stretching, when you entered. That was good; that meant he had finished. Also good: the gym was empty but for the two of you.  

You strode over and sat next to him. You placed your hand on his arm. You knew what you had to tell him but hadn’t quite picked the words. They were never your strong suit. He turned to look at you, his face an open question, and shuffled into a more comfortable position.  

The words didn’t come but the impulse did. You leant forward and kissed him. Tentative, hesitant, light. The second seemed to stretch forever; you were desperate for it to end and dying for it not to. Your heart was pounding so hard, you could hear it in your ears. Your body was flushing warm, running hot and you could feel the heat from him, too, though you knew his wasn’t anything to do with you.  

The second finally ended and you pulled back, but only barely, just enough to see his eyes, usually so intense but, at this moment, open, sparkling, asking.  

You kissed him again. You hadn’t meant to; it happened without your say so. This time, he responded. You felt his lips move against yours, his head turn so they slotted together, so he could run his tongue over your bottom lip. You moved your hands into his hair, damp with sweat, curling at the edges of his face.  

“Binnie,” you whispered, when his lips left yours a second time.  

“Miki,” he returned. 

“I want to tell you-” 

He interrupted you with his mouth on yours again. You made a noise of protest, but it was weak and you didn’t follow through because it had hit you, how much you missed this. How much you wanted it. How much you had liked it at the time and not allowed yourself to notice.  

You had to be closer to him. You shuffled on your knees and sat yourself in his lap; he pulled you to his body until his sweat soaked through your shirt. Your mouth journeyed across his face, to his jaw, walking a trail down his neck, kissing wet drops of sweat from his skin. 

“Miki...”  

“Binnie...” 

Your mouth reversed its travels and you sucked his bottom lip between yours, sank your teeth into it gently and then not so gently. The groan he made, deep in his chest, lit you up on the inside, burning hot now, your own sweat starting to prickle on your skin.  

Before you lost your mind completely to the heat and the haze, you pulled back. You pressed your forehead against his and took a second to get your breath back, breath you hadn’t noticed he had taken.  

“I need to tell you,” you repeated. “I have to tell you things.”  

You felt him nod against you. 

“Ok, you can tell me.” 

“I’m sorry.”  

It wasn’t the thing you wanted to start with. You wished you could have said it all without having to apologise. But you’d done things that you were sorry for and he had to know. 

“I’m sorry I’m so stupid and I’m sorry I used you and I’m sorry I don’t know how to be honest with you and I’m sorry I don’t know how to feel things and I’m sorry I shouted at you and was a dick to you and said I hated you. I’m sorry I did all this stupid shit. I’m sorry I didn’t notice. I'm sorry I didn’t realise. I’m sorry I didn’t speak to you. I’m sorry for all of it.” 

His lips were back before you had even closed your mouth. You pushed against his chest with your hands. 

“Stop kissing me! I have to say stuff!” 

“I know, but I have stuff to say, too, and I want to say it like this,” he replied, pausing between each clause to press his mouth against yours, staying so close that you could feel his lips move as he spoke. 

“You said I had to go first,” you reminded him. “Let me go first.”  

He huffed but leant back a little and you did the same, the air between you clearing just enough for you to remember how nervous you were, how terrified, even though he’d just been kissing you, even though you sat in his lap with his arms around you.  

“It started out not being real,” you began. “It really wasn’t real and I intended for it to never be real because I just wanted Hani to leave me alone and I was going to end it. I swear. I was racking my brain trying to come up with a good solution. Especially because you were being so annoying! I thought you wanted it to fail because you were winding me up so much. And you were right, I fucking flinched and I hated it; it made me so uncomfortable because it was so weird to have you doing that. We didn’t do that!  

“Then you kissed me on the subway and it was... nice. And then horrible because it shouldn’t have been nice! And then we had sex and it was... more than nice. And I... I didn’t want to break us up anymore because I liked how it was. I kept saying to myself that we had all of the perks of a real relationship with none of the drawbacks but what I really meant, though I didn’t know it, was that I had all the security of a relationship with none of the risk. 

“I didn’t want to risk it. Having feelings. Going there. With you, especially. Not because—not because I d--... Not... It was you, Binnie. You were my best friend. I trust you with everything. You know all of my stupid secrets; you’ve seen me throw up on the street; you gave me food poisoning so bad I literally shit myself in your doorway; it’s you--” 

“Can I make a recommendation?” 

“What?” 

“Maybe don’t talk about shitting yourself while you’re trying to confess your undying love for me?” 

You slapped him hard on the arm. 

“Shut the fuck up! I’m being fucking vulnerable here, you prick!” 

He laughed and you let him kiss you, just a little, just long enough for the flash of your annoyance to fade.  

“My point is,” you continued, pushing back against him, “that if you didn’t want me, who the fuck would? You are the person who could... You’re the person who could hurt me the most. Out of anyone. Out of everyone. If I didn’t have you, if you said no, if I fucked things up, who would I have? I didn’t want to lose you.” 

“So you kept me at arm’s length and pushed me away and didn’t speak to me for weeks.” 

“I know, I’m sorry.”  

Shame flamed on your cheeks. It swallowed your voice, made your throat tight and your eyes sting. You dropped your gaze, focusing on your hand around his bicep, your ragged thumbnail that you had chewed to bits. You watched it raise and lower as Changbin shrugged. 

“It’s ok. I did it, too. I could have brought it up. But I didn’t. Because, honestly, I knew it would go badly and I thought it would be easier to fight than talk about it. I thought you would find it easier if I pushed you to be angry rather than pushing you to be... open. I thought if you really felt anything, it would come out in an argument. That wasn’t fair of-” 

“No, that is pretty much right on the money. You’re right. It’s so much easier to be angry with you than... than this.” 

“Are you still angry?” 

You shook your head. You were as far from angry as you’d ever been.  

“Are you still angry with me?” you countered, swallowing hard. 

“No.” 

A sigh of relief.  

“Tell me, then,” he whispered, his lips moving against yours in anticipation of a kiss. 

“Tell you what?”  

“What you want.” 

And it came out easily. 

“You.” 

* * *  

[0vergrowngraveyard]

Tails is missing.

Those three words echoed in Amy's mind as she paced around the Restoration’s control room and to say she was stressed out was a huge understatement.

Not only was Tails one of her closest friends, his big brother didn’t know about it…

And said big brother would be here any second.

They had sent the fox on a simple solo mission. It was easy. Just check out a spot that had a signal where a signal shouldn’t be. He’d done it plenty of times with Sonic so there couldn’t have been any harm in sending him off alone, right?

Wrong. Somehow his comm went offline and his location just vanished. Vanished! Tails never took off his communicator and would make a huge fuss about whenever someone did! He almost glued the watch onto Knuckles’ wrist for crying out loud! Why would he suddenly take his off?

It didn’t make any sense. Tails was way too cautious of this situation to be happening at all.

It was entirely possible that he accidentally turned off his communicator, but the fact that it hadn’t responded for almost 30 minutes shed some doubt on that optimistic train of thought.

Luckily, they had his last known location, which was a few feet away from the point, and that’s why Sonic was on his way over. If anyone could get to that point fast enough, it was him.

Only problem is that Sonic didn’t even know about the kit’s solo mission. Amy didn’t think they had to tell him because Tails was growing into his own hero and, again, it was a simple mission that shouldn’t have even taken him an hour! But, of course, the one time Sonic isn’t involved in any missions that Tails has, it all goes horribly wrong and now she has to explain that to the blue hedgehog who was rapidly approaching her location.

The familiar sound of a dash and volunteers getting angry came from outside the room and her breath hitched.

Chaos, he was here way too soon.

“Hey Ames! Sorry I’m late! Saw a chilidog stand on the way and you know me! Just couldn’t resist.” Sure enough, there was a chilidog in his hand. He took a bite before continuing, “So, what d’you need? What's up?”

If Amy wasn’t sweating before, she sure was now. The way Sonic was staring at her was enough to make her start crying right there. His usual grin and friendly emerald eyes unknowingly stabbing daggers right through her.

It felt like she had betrayed him. His little brother was missing and it was partially her fault. She should’ve just gone with her gut and told him about everything.

She just knew that Tails was working really hard to grow out of Sonic’s shadow (or at least that’s how he phrased it) and she just thought that maybe he’d appreciate getting a solo mission! Show him that the Restoration didn’t just see him as Sonic’s sidekick, but as his own person!

How she wished she could turn back time and stop herself.

“Ames?”

She had been staring.

“Ah! I-I’m sorry, must’ve just spaced out for a second haha!” She laughed nervously leading him over to the computers.

“Ooooookay. So what’s this all about? You said something about checking up on someone?” He asked.

Her heart sank. She had to tell him, there was no dancing around it.

“Yeah… about that,” She anxiously tapped her thumbs together.

Sonic cocked a brow at her, a teasing grin appearing on his muzzle. “Yeah, about that.” The hand not holding the chilidog went to his hip as he leaned into it.

She inhaled sharply.

Just get it over with, he needs to know.

“The person you need to check on is Tails.”

Sonic just stared at her for a few seconds before chuckling a bit. It felt so out of place but he didn’t know that.

“I saw him yesterday. He’s at his workshop.” He took a bite of his food, “Y’know, you should really visit sometime! It’s been awhile!”

When he noticed that Amy wasn’t smiling or looking at all relieved, his grin faltered, “Ames, he’s fine, I’m serious! If you need proof, just check his location!” He brought up his wrist, “Look, I’ll even check it no—“

“Sonic, he’s not at his workshop.” She blurted out before he could check.

The blue hedgehog stared at her as he slowly lowered his wrist. His grin was completely gone, a confused stare taking its place.

“What are you talking about?” He asked.

Amy took a shaky breath, “Please…please don’t get mad…”

Now he looked worried. “What? Amy? I won’t, just tell me what’s going on? Where’s Tails?”

You could always tell when Sonic’s patented “Big Brother Mode” was activating. He just had a certain stare he gave you when you even hinted that his little brother may be in trouble. It was a look of worry, fear, and worst of all, anger.

An angry Sonic was a Sonic you didn’t want to mess with. Not much really made him mad, his chill personality was definitely not just a public opinion, but there were a few things in life that really set him off…

and something happening to his little brother was at the very top of that list.

“Sonic, I..” Her voice shook, “I don’t know.”

—————

Sonic had been having a great day. A fantastic day, even.

He had spent it checking out old spots he and Tails used to make camp at, making mental notes that they should spend the night at a few of these locations for old times sake. It could be a week-long camping trip for them! It had been some time since the two of them slept under the stars together!

Visiting these places made him nostalgic in ways he never knew he could feel. He missed the days when all he and his brother had were a backpack and a few heroic deeds to their name. When their biggest worries were Scratch and Grounder, not gods and wars.

Back when his little brother was the sweetest, most adorable little four year old to ever exist (that was a fact, not an opinion).

They were simpler times.

He was so excited to get back home and tell his brother all about his idea so imagine his surprise when he gets a call from the Restoration saying something about needing to check up on someone who wasn’t responding to any calls only to find out that person is supposedly Tails.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” He didn’t want to get mad right after he told Amy he wouldn’t, but the hedgehog had no idea how long he’d be able to keep his cool. “Just…just tell me what’s going on.”

Amy turned her gaze to the floor for a few beats, tears pricked her eyes. He started tapping his foot impatiently.

He really didn’t want to be mad at Amy. She was twelve years old and, while she wasn’t in charge of the Restoration anymore, she played a huge part in making sure it stayed afloat. She was already under a lot of stress and raising his voice would not help that.

She inhaled before speaking. “We sent him on a solo mission and his comm suddenly went offline.”

She must’ve seen the look on his face because words came flooding out of her mouth to attempt to explain.

“Sonic, I swear it was nothing dangerous. We just had him go check something out! A weird signal! That’s all!” She cried out. “He’d done it plenty of times before! I-I just thought this wouldn’t be any different! I-“

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He cut her off. His tone was harsh and he almost cringed at the way it made her wince. The only thing that stopped him was the fact that his worry for his little brother’s safety was strongly overpowering his worry about hurting his friend’s feelings.

It sucked, but he was a big brother first and foremost.

“Because I didn’t think it was a big deal! He's gone to check Chaos Emerald reading on his own, this wasn’t any different! He probably would’ve even been back by now!” The pink hedgehog reasoned, a few tears had slipped down her muzzle.

“Yea, ‘not very different’. Except it’s very different because it was an unknown signal! Not a Chaos Emerald reading! That signal could’ve been anything!” He didn’t mean to raise his voice but damn it, he was stressing out. “And even when he goes to look for Emerald readings on his own, I still know where he is in case of situations like these! I always know where he is because he’s eight years old, Amy! He shouldn’t even be looking for readings alone but he does anyway!”

He didn’t even realize he had thrown his free hand up, still holding onto the chilidog in the other, and walked a few steps away from her. His free hand was on his forehead as his mind flooded with all the scenarios his baby brother could be in right now. Images of Tails being scared and/or hurt and his screams of pain played over and over again.

Finally, he turned to look at Amy. For a lack of better words, she looked awful. Her quills were a mess and she looked seconds away from breaking down.

“How long?” He asked

“W-what?”

“How long has his communicator been offline?”

It took a few beats for her to finally respond. “Around 30 minutes ago…”

All Sonic could do was stare. The chilidog in his hand fell to the floor with a disgusting splat.

30 minutes. 30 whole minutes. Chaos knows what happened to his little brother and it took them 30 minutes to call him?! Why was he even told to come to the Restoration HQ? He should’ve been at his last known location by now figuring out what happened!

Oh Chaos what if it was too late. It had to be, right? Sure, 48 hours was usually the crucial time when it came to missing children, but in this line of work, even just 5 minutes alone could spell disaster, let alone 30!

“30 minutes…why didn’t you just send me the coordinates?! Why did you ask me to come here?!”

“I don’t know! I- I just panicked! This has never happened before and I didn’t know what to do!” She collapsed to her knees, tears streaming down her muzzle as she held her face in her hands.

He felt bad for yelling at her, he hated yelling at his younger friends, but self control was something that was in limited supply at the moment. He looked at the floor, his quills raised as if the knowledge of Tails possibly being in danger meant that the hedgehog was in danger as well.

His legs were itching to just get out of this damn room.

“I’m so sorry, Sonic…Tails could be hurt and it’s all my fault…I should’ve told you…I shouldn’t have even sent him alone…I’m so sorry…” She cried into her hands.

Sonic didn’t respond to her.

Instead, he looked around the room at all the Mobians who were staring at him in fear. None of them had ever seen the hero this upset before.

“Someone send me his last known coordinates.” He demanded. “Now.”

One of the volunteers at the computer quickly typed something into the device and clicked the mouse a few times. His own communicator in his wrist lit up with a notification.

A set of coordinates on the outskirts of White Park Zone.

With the location already memorized, he gave a nod to the Mobian at the computer who sent him a shaky thumbs up back.

He looked back down at Amy. He wanted to say something, wanted to say that it wasn’t her fault and that everything would be okay, but he couldn’t find his voice.

He ran out of the HQ, pushing himself to go faster and faster. He’d already wasted too much time talking.

‘Hang tight, keed. I’m on my way.’ He thought as the boom of a broken sound barrier shook the area around him.

—————

Somewhere far from White Park Zone, a little fox slowly opened his blue eyes. A headache pounding against his skull as he tried to make sense of the area around him through his concussion.

He didn’t remember much, only the feeling of something hard hitting the back of his head and blacking out. He remembered he was checking something out for Amy, it had been his first solo mission for the Restoration! Except that mission seemed to have gone wrong.

He just hoped his brother wasn’t mad at him.

[cutielights]

Hey pookie!! I luv ur work sm and I was wondering if u could do a rottmnt boys x spider woman reader ab them reacting to her stopping a collider like miles did? Idek if u watched into the spider verse but maybe something like that if not u could wing it if you'd like tysm hope u have a good day/night! ❤️

>>:] yes. For the purposes of writing, im going to act as if you were a spider person for at least a year before this. Not supposed to be Miles’ story, but pretty similar (if that makes sense)

i waNT THE THIRD MOVIE. Frikin dying of miles morales deprivation over here, hand over the sunflower boy with in tact parents

@moonchhu THE OTHER SPIDER PERSON ONE TAG LIST

That Really Big Earthquake

LEO

“Heyyyy, I haven’t seen you in twenty four hours which truly is a record for us, I missed you, did you miss me? I bet you did right? Go on tell me aaaalllll about it.”

“So, I was just kinda minding my own business, y’know, thwipping and thwapping and going about being an awesome hero when I bumped into myself? Kinda. They looked like me, but they were different, and didn’t look like me, but, I knew they were me! Because my spider sense went off and they could do stuff I could do, but also some different stuff! And then we freaked out for a little bit before I went to auntie May to show her and she showed me four more other me’s who were hiding out in her basement and then we tried getting them home and we had to sneak about in this fancy restaurant wearing bow ties, and we cried and they went into this collider thing, also it turns out my favourite cousin was working for the evil genius corporation and he’s dead now and it feels like my fault, I’m so totally fine don’t worry about me. Howwasyourday?”

“Haha, what.”

“Stopped the collapsing of the multiverse.”

“Oh it sounds so simple when you put it like that.” Yeah okay sarcasm queen

Made you some tea after that, let’s just, take a breath for a minute, m’kay?

He has decided it’s a self care day now, at least he did after thoroughly checking you for injuries

How you do not have a concussion will always escape him, not one broken bone? Seriously? After all that?

Please remind him you’re an actual super hero and not a pane of glass

“Wait what was that about your cousin?”

RAPH

“Hey! How was your weekend?”

“Crazier than yours.”

“Okay, Bet.”

One explanation later sponge bob narrator voice

“Wait, so you’re telling Raph, that huge earthquake that happened, happened because of you and five alternate versions of yourself?

“That’s excluding a lot of things I just told you but, I am telling Raph that, yes.”

Huge bone crushing hugs are in order, according to him at least. And I mean, is he wrong?

Not letting you out of his sight for ages, please, Raph, let them go home

“Why are you so worried? I did it, I won!”

“It’s more the fact that it happened and less the fact that you’re mostly fine.”

DONNIE

Othello Von Ryan: Stay home, S.H.E.L.LD.O.N has picked up on some strange (possibly universal fabric destroying) activity. Also there has been some earthquake activity in the area you were in yesterday, not that I have a tracker on you. Because I don’t.

Only Two Legs: I handled it don’t worry :D

Othello Von Ryan: ?

Othello Von Ryan: Traverse to My Lab.

“Heyyy Deee.”

“Stop. Explain. This better be your attempt at humor.”

There was silence for a long while after you had messily glued together words to describe the past 24 hours, before he took a deep breath.

“First, How dare you stop the multiverse from collapsing without me that’s incredible rude. Second, therapy. Third, that earthquake and power surge destroyed My Lab, thankfully I have backup backups to my backups, but I couldn’t use the internet for an hour straight.”

“Y- You’re more concerned about the internet?”

“Not what I said. Now let me check you for a concussion.”

MIKEY

“Hey they took down those art displays.”

“The what?”

“Oh you weren’t here, BUT there was these reaaaallllyyyyy cool art statues along this street! Look, hey, look, I took pics!”

“Oh cooollluuuhhh that’s not an art display that’s five different fire hydrants merged into each other.”

“Haha yeah it does kinda look like that doesn’t it? I thought it was supposed to be a dog.”

“Mikey, no-“ You pulled him aside into an empty alleyway, trying to explain what had happened over the past twenty four hours.

It was an interesting experience, but you got there eventually.

Best believe this boy is giving you the biggest hug ever, and then buying pizza.

Oh, and Dr Feelings is going to be paying you a visit. Multiple. You can’t escape him.

“So they weren’t art displays?”

Speedily bulk writing and scheduling rn bc im going on a holiday with zero internet.

[0blobthefish0]

hey, could I request an enemies to lovers Leighton Murray x fem!reader fanfic where reader is one of Whitney’s soccer teammates and Leighton and reader just kind of always assumed that they have nothing in common and refused to talk to each other while Whitney tried to set them up and then they both see each other while they’re out for dinner with their parents and turns out they’re both just fed up with their snobby/rich people parents?

Common ground

leighton murray masterlist | main masterlist

Leighton Murray x Reader 1,417 words of drivel (forgive me please 🙏)

a/n - renee's face card ⁉️ insane. as always, it's not proofread soz 😬 and i apologise for the superrrr late post, i think i'll be posting another sooner than normal, don't quote me on that though oops

Of course you’re not unaware that she’s only just three metres to your left, and of course you aren’t unaware that her bright blue eyes are burning holes into you. It’s making you feel hot, nervous even, no, it’s just the alcohol. You’re only flushed because of the alcohol, only glancing back at her because of the alcohol, only letting your eyes travel because of the alcohol, only letting this girl drag you up the stairs because the alcohol is making you wish it was her; Leighton Murray.

It’s been a year since you were first formally introduced, and you’ve hated her since, well, not really, you couldn’t explain it. You didn’t like her, that was for sure. Whitney tries to convince you otherwise, so what if she was your type? Tall, confident, feminine, and kind of a bitch. The two of you just did not get along, no matter how many times Whitney plays her hand at cupid, there was just nothing to talk about.

Leighton can’t stop the feeling of her stomach tying itself into knots as she stares at the blonde paying you close attention; it reminds her of herself. And she can’t tell if the sickening feeling is due to the blonde, or the fact that you’re so into said blonde. She looks over her shoulder as she watches this blonde guide you up the stairs, and you’re following her like a lost puppy. It’s weird. In hindsight, you’re exactly what she wants, but in reality you couldn’t be further apart. You disappear into a dark room. Leighton sucks on her teeth before swallowing a drink; whole - she can’t get the image of you out of her head, the way that you were looking at the blonde, as if she were the only thing worth your time, your undivided attention solely on her. She wishes it was her. It makes her heart beat faster. Shit.

What was it about her that made you turn away? It was her fault, really, the reason why your first meeting went so horribly wrong. Too quick to put up a defence, when you didn’t seem interested at all, but now she knew that you were just shy. Nervous meeting new people. And now something that could have truly been something more was ruined. 

The next evening, when Leighton pushes open the door to her dorm, she finds you comfortably resting on the ground as Whitney takes up the sofa. A fleeting glance your way and she can already see the not-at-all-subtle hickey just under your ear; it makes her lightly scowl as she makes a beeline to her room. 

You let go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding once you hear the click of the door. Just you being in her common room seems to cause her some level of anger, and she can’t even hide it, or she just doesn’t care to. It causes your stomach to squeeze sickeningly and you turn to Whitney.

“Did you not see her face when she noticed I was here?” You questioned quietly with knitted brows. Whitney only shrugged her shoulders. “I swear she actually hates me,” you confess and your friend is quick to interject.

“Leighton does not hate you,” you only let out a deep sigh at that - was she blind?

———————

You can feel yourself disassociating from the table as your mother drones on about her business, local gossip and your siblings. Not once do you hear your name fall out of her mouth. Sure, she wasn’t the most pleased when she found out you were going to college for soccer, and sure it took her time to accept, well tolerate, the fact that you weren’t straight, but were you really not worth talking about to her friends? The only time she had interacted with you was to introduce you. And now you’re bored out of your mind, pushing salad around your tiny plate with your fork. 

“Sorry we’re so late, traffic was crazy,” you hear a voice and three pairs of feet travel closer toward you. 

And then you see her.

Just for a brief millisecond out of the corner of your eye, and your posture staightens. Fuck. No, it wasn’t her, it couldn’t be, all you saw was blonde her - her blonde hair - no it wasn’t. You almost want to believe yourself, but you just knew; Leighton Murray was here. 

Cautiously, you look over your shoulder to see her already staring, the sweet smile on her face not meeting her eyes, and it makes you want to hide. You were already uncomfortable as it was and now you had someone, who was actually a someone, actually there to witness it. 

“Leighton go sit next to,” you see, what you guess is, Leighton’s dad nod in your direction as he pauses.

“Y/n,” you answer politely.

“Thank you, go and sit next to Y/n, you look like you’re around the same age.” He grins and sends you over a wink before taking a seat opposite your mother. 

You can feel the goosebumps run over your skin when her arm accidentally brushes against yours as she pulls out the chair next to you, and you send her an awkward smile before going back to pushing the cucumber around your plate. 

Ten minutes later and you hear your name fall out of Leighton’s father’s mouth, causing your ears to prick up.

“Y/n, where do you go to college?”

“Um- I go to Essex,” you respond with a nod of your head.

“Really? Leighton does too, are you guys friends at all, know of each other.” You shrugged your shoulders lightly.

“Dad, stop interrogating her.” You hear Leighton scold her dad lightly, this obviously not being the first time he’s done it.

“What? I’m just trying to get to know new people,” he pouted before focusing his attention back onto you. “So, Y/n,” he started, not before giving Leighton a side eye to which she only shook her head and leaned back in her chair, “what do you do at Essex?”

Before you could respond, you heard your mother butt in. And you can already feel the embarrassment set in.

“Y/n does soccor,” the disappointment in your mother’s voice is almost tangible and your heart drops into your stomach. “I tried getting her to do something a bit more.. respectable, like your girl, Leighton, she does maths, right? Yeah, such a smart girl.” You can’t listen to her as you chew on your lip to stop it from trembling. It’s one thing not being proud of your own kid for doing something, but it’s a whole other thing to sound it out to anyone that will listen. You, really, should be used to it by now.

Leighton’s dad almost ignores your mother, “Soccor, wow, you must know Leigton’s friend, Whitney, right?”

“Aha- yeah.. Sorry, if you’ll excuse me,” you apologise, sending him the best smile you can manage as you stand up from the table and leave, quietly, for the bathroom.

You should have seen it coming.

Leighton enters the bathroom only a few seconds after, to see you fixing your hair in the mirror. 

“You clean up nice,” she starts and you let out a small laugh and shake your head. It makes Leighton’s stomach flutter, she’s never made you laugh before. She likes the sound. 

“You look the same as always,” you respond.

“Hot, I hope,” you only smile, and then she takes a few steps towards you. “I’m sorry about your mother, mine’s the same,” she empathises.

“Really?” You burst out, “but you’re so-” you stop yourself suddenly and wave a hand in her direction.

“So what?” She pushes further, not only with her words.

“So smart and,” you lightly pause, “pretty.” 

A silence falls over the two of you as Leighton searches your eyes, she’s closer now, only half a metre away; it might just be the closest you’ve ever been.

“Do you hate me?” You finally blurt out.

“Hate you? No.” The softness of her voice only makes the sound of your rapidly beating heart stand out. “I think we just got off on the wrong foot, how about we start again?” She offers and it makes you melt. Who knew Leighton could be so sweet?

“Yeah, that’d be nice. I’m Y/n,” you smile and reach a hand out for her to shake. Her warm hand wraps around yours and it, somehow, feels so right.

“I’m Leighton.”

[boldlyvoid]

Come Together

18+ Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

Summary: Ever since the academy, Aaron and Y/N have been at each other's throats for a spot on the BAU. He got it, She didn't. Now they have to plan the Bureau's Holiday party together without killing each other.

Warnings: angst, fighting, mutual pining, enemies to lovers, Aaron had a crush on her while married. why he and haley broke up, miscarriage mentions, divorced Aaron, flirting, teasing, kissing, fingering, hate sex, p in v smut, rough sex, no condoms used

Word Count: 4.8k

Penelope is usually the one to plan holiday parties… but after last year's spiked punch— that ruined a lot of upper agents' sobriety, which wasn’t her fault at all, the director delegated to having two random people plan it together. He pulled names from a hat that just happened to be Aaron Hotchner and Y/N Y/L/N. 

She was happy to do it, and he was fine with doing it… they just weren’t happy about doing it together. The two agents couldn’t stand each other and it goes all the way back to being in the same year at the academy. 

They were tied for the top of the class, duking it out to be the chosen one for Agent Rossi’s new right-hand man. And of course, it went to a man. It didn’t matter to them that she was fantastic at what she did, or that her final score was 0.2% higher than his. He was a man so he got it. 

She got a job in CARD which, she liked, it was still an opportunity to solve cases and bring kids home to their parents… she just had to work with the BAU more than she liked and take orders from them. And then Rossi left, Gideon stepped down and Aaron Hotchner was the fucking Head of the BAU. 

She was taking orders from him. Him and his goon squad of pretty people he picked over her. 

She would’ve pushed everything aside and dealt with him, she would’ve mended things if he accepted her into the team. But he never did. After 5 applications and being looked over for everything while he hired younger and younger, she finally gave up and started to hate his guts even more. 

Now she’s in the elevator, pushing the button for floor 6 and shaking the thoughts of strangling him out of her head so she can deal with him for half an hour. He’s always so busy that she’s been waiting all week just to talk about this stupid fucking party, and the only time he has is at 8:30 pm on a Friday when she should be at home. 

She walks right into the bullpen, up the stairs and knocks on his door. “come in?” He calls. 

“Hey,” she says with a deep sigh. “Can we talk about the party?” 

“Mhm,” he nods, waving her in. “Come sit, I already have some ideas.” 

“Okay…” she sits down in front of him, ignoring all his plaques and accolades and staring down at her clipboard. “I called around and there are 3 places available that are big enough to hold us, on the 3rd Saturday of the month.” 

“Awesome, I already called a friend of mine with a Christmas tree farm and acquired 3 trees— Douglas furs, all pretty and big, we’ll just need a ceiling over 12 feet to house them,” he explains. 

“And who’s going to decorate them?” She asks. 

He shrugs, “We’ve got a big budget, we can hire someone to do it.” 

“Who did Penelope use?” 

“Herself,” he smiles that devilishly condescending smile. “I’m sure if we ask she’d want to help out again. She loves Christmas.” 

“Did you ever figure out who spiked the punch last year?” She asks, genuinely feeling sorry for Penelope. 

Penny was the only one on the team that she actually liked. 

He nods, “Dax Cooper up in counter-terrorism.” 

“Yeah, he’s an asshole.” 

“Worse than me?” He teases. “Seriously, when are you going to stop being mad at me?” 

“When you admit you hate me!” She fights back. “I did nothing to you. You’re the one who conspired with Dave and got hired here and then you purposely lost all my applications and never let me know why you wouldn’t even interview me.”

“I didn’t lose them, I put them to the side,” he shrugs. “You weren’t ready to be on our team.” 

“But the walking calculator and teen Mrs. USA are?” She laughs.

“Reid and JJ are wonderful assets,” he snaps, jaw tight and eyes full of fury. “This is why I don’t want you. You wouldn’t be a team player. Not until you get rid of the attitude and accept that this job is about more than numbers. Yes, they’re young, yes you beat me by a fraction of a percent, but that doesn’t mean you have what it takes to do what we do.” 

“I look at cases full of missing, dead and raped kids all day, how is that any different?” She honestly can’t believe it. 

“Because you look at a screen all day with facts and witness statements and I go out into the field and I talk to parents and I deal with the cops and I don’t start fights over petty bullshit,” he reminds her. “I have never called you names or signalled you out. All you do, every time we're on a scene together, is whisper and gossip and try to undermine me. You need to grow up.” 

She just shakes her head, holding in a comment that could hurt him because… and she hates to say it, but he’s right. “Whatever. Should I call one of these places and book it tomorrow or what?” 

“Do whatever you want, just give me the address so I can have the trees and decorations sent over,” he honestly doesn’t care. “I trust your judgement on a caterer, I’ll pick a band… what else would we need?” 

“Invitations, which I can handle,” she assures as she stands up to walk to his door. “I’ll cc you on everything and include the director for oversight. I’ll call you if I have questions.” 

“Y/N,” he calls out to her before she leaves. “I’m going to be looking for a new agent in a few months…” 

“And?” 

“If we can work this out by then… maybe things will be different when you apply this time?” He suggests, giving her innocent eyes and genuinely meaning it. 

“Okay.” 

—

“Did you see her last night?” Dave asks, walking right into Aaron's office with two coffees right at 8am. 

He nods, “I did… you don’t have any connections to a band I can book for Christmas, do you?” 

“The Jazz club might be able to lend us some members,” he suggests. “I’ll make a call… but I take it things went well?” 

“As well as they could go, she’s still so mad at me for getting this position over her,” he shakes his head. “I don’t know how to make her realize she just wasn’t ready. Our working together would’ve been awful. It would’ve—

“Ruined your marriage that just ended?” Dave teases. “I know you liked her, I saw the way you two looked at each other and I saw the teasing and the way you talked about her. She was more than a friend to you… I couldn’t have her on the team like that. I couldn’t see you go through what I did with Caroline.” 

“I hate thinking about how different things could’ve been if she was on the team though,” he shakes his head and stares off out the window. “We almost broke up back then, you know? We almost never had Jack…” 

“You know it’s perfectly normal for marriages not to work out, it doesn’t mean you loved her any less, it just wasn’t meant to be forever,” Dave reminds him. “You’re still friends, there’s no ill will. You never cheated, she didn’t either. You just grew apart. It happens.” 

“But now I’m single and I can pursue Y/N… but she hates me,” he sighs. “I don’t think she’ll ever stop hating me.” 

“Nasty hate sex is fun,” Dave teases, making them both laugh. “I’m serious… you wouldn’t believe the women I’ve—

“I know, actually,” Aaron shakes his head. “Strauss can’t look at you the same anymore.” 

“Hey… that wasn’t hate, it was just indifference,” he teases. 

“Whatever,” Aaron can’t help but smirk. “Can you work on the band for me?”

“I will, I’ll get them to throw in some love songs too,” Dave teases on his way out. 

This was going to be interesting. 

—

Two weeks of planning and emails blow by in the blink of an eye. 

He gets ready for the party early, having to be there to check things over and meet the band and shake hands with the higher-ups as they arrive. He has a nice suit on, a red tie for Christmas and dark green socks that no one will ever notice. But he wants to look nice. 

For her. 

He walks up to her where she’s hiding in the corner. Adorning the most stunning golden dress and holding her clipboard, making sure everything gets delivered and set up in time for the start time at 7. They still have 4 hours till then, but she’s an overachiever. And a worrier. She needed this to be perfect. 

She looked perfect. Like the 2000 Holiday Barbie brought to life. He’s absolutely astounded by her beauty he just stares for a moment before he says anything. 

“You know, you look very pretty today,” he compliments but she doesn’t take it that way. 

She looks at him like he just insulted her mother. “What?” 

“That dress, it looks nice on you,” he looks her up and down. Smiling like he has some tricks up his sleeve. “What? Can’t I think you look nice? Haven’t we spent enough time talking this last month to let me compliment you?” 

“Don’t you have a wife?” She asks, disgusted he’d hit on her. “And a kid?” 

“We got divorced back in April,” he shrugs. “And you say you want to be a profiler, yet you haven’t looked at my hands in months?” 

She looks now, noticing that he doesn’t have a ring and the tan line that should be there is long gone, which means he’s telling the truth. “Oh… sorry.” 

“It’s better this way,” he nods, giving her a sweet smile. “Is everything going to plan?” 

She nods too, “Yeah. Just waiting on your band… please tell me they’re good?” 

He laughs, “They’re great. Dave’s got this Jazz bar he basically owns with how much money he’s spent there so they owe him one… You’ll like them.” 

“Jazz, at Christmas?” She can’t believe it. “Hotch—

“Aaron,” he corrects her. “Please, for the love of god, call me Aaron again.”

“Why?” She laughs, “We’re not close.” 

“Oh, come on,” he teases. “You can’t tell me that before everything went down, we didn’t have something going on? We were friendly, I almost thought you had a crush on me?” 

She looks at him with a brow raised, “You thought I had a crush on you?” 

He nods, “And then you found out I was married.” 

“So you’re saying if you weren’t married we could’ve hooked up at the academy?” She asks. “Sounds like you liked me too, regardless of the wife.” 

“No—

“Be honest,” she begs, stepping into his space even more. “If things were different- if you didn’t have a wife and we fucked back then, would you have screwed me over for the job?” 

“I didn’t screw you over, I simply already knew Dave,” he finally admits after 10 long years. “I knew he was about to leave, he knew Gideon didn’t want to be in charge. He wanted someone to run the whole unit who wouldn’t choke— not saying you’d choke, he just knew I was already hard on the inside, I wasn’t going to lose my mind with all the shit we see.” 

“You could’ve put in a good word for me, Aaron, I would’ve been fine working under you. I would’ve loved even just an office job in the BAU, I want to work with more than just missing kids,” she begs. “I’ve done it for 10 years, now. You know that makes me strong. You have a kid of your own, you know it’s not easy to think about them missing, let alone deal with it.” 

“I know… and I was serious, I have a new position opening up and I want to give this another try,” he admits. “I want you on the team.” 

She shakes her head, “how can I be on the team when this—” she points between them. “This, whatever this is, is going on?” 

“The sexual tension?” He teases and she swats his arm. “We’ll be fine.” 

She shakes her head. “Just, give me some time to think about it?” 

“I can do that…” 

—

She watches him from afar most of the night. Talking only when they needed to, like in front of the director or on stage while introducing the band and thanking everyone for being there… she was having a very hard time being in the same room as him with all she knew now. 

She was still mad at him. 

Mad because she’s wasted so much of her life hating him when they could’ve been happy together… but at the same time she was sad for his ex-wife. She wondered how long the marriage was loveless. Did she know? Did she suspect? Who broke it off? Does he see his son? She knew he was a good man back then but, what kind of good man has a crush on someone else while married? Would he just do that to her if they got together? 

She had so many questions in her mind and they wouldn’t shut up. 

He approaches her again while she’s deep in thought, staring at the floor while she sips on a drink she doesn’t even like. 

“Having fun?” He asks. 

She shakes her head, “No.” she puts her drink down on the table just behind her and turns back to him as he begins to speak.

“Something not going according to pl—

“Why the fuck did you have to tell me you like me?” She snaps. “I was so okay with hating you for the rest of my life because I couldn’t be on the team I always wanted to join and then you tell me you like me? That if you didn’t have a wife you’d want to be with me back then?” 

He steps more into her space so they can keep their voices down and between each other, “because you deserve to know.” 

“No, I don’t think so,” she fights back. “You were never worried about me being too immature for the team, you were scared you’d end up cheating on your wife with me. I didn’t even know you had a wife until I developed feelings for you. You never wore your ring to class, we spent every day sitting together in class or at the library and you came back to my dorm a few times… you pursued me as much as I was pursuing you and then you made it my fault.” 

“I know, and I’m sorry,” he bows his head, ashamed. “My wife and I weren’t in a good place, we were talking about getting separated… then she got pregnant.” 

“I thought Jack was only—

“We lost a couple babies before him,” he admits. “I didn’t want to be like my dad. I didn’t want to knock her up and leave her so I stayed. I stayed but I wasn’t a good dad anyway. I was always at work, I missed important things with my son and she was the one to end it because she deserved someone who wanted to be home with her and my son deserved to grow up knowing his dad wasn’t always going to be there but loves him enough to be as present as possible when he is home. I couldn’t be that when I was with his mom. we’re so much better apart, I love having weekends alone with my son and doing things we like and not worrying about fighting with his mother in front of him. And she’s happier now with her new boyfriend and Jack's happy with the prospect of a stepdad who can step up in all the areas I lack.” 

“That’s a really mature thing to do for him,” she manages to give him a small, press-lipped smile. “Still doesn’t make me feel better about what you did to me.” 

“I’ve wanted to tell you the truth and that I’m sorry for so long, but when we’re together it’s always a fight. I can never get an honest minute with you, you always just come in guns blazing and my instinct is to tease you back,” he admits. “I am sorry. I wish things were different. I would like to start over if you’d allow me to.” 

“I don’t want a job on your team,” she says, stepping in even closer. Close enough to kiss him. “I can’t work with you like this.” 

“Why?” He smirks. 

“Because Strauss hates you enough as is without you fucking your subordinate,” she whispers. “I’m not throwing myself under the bus… just to be under you.”

He lunges for a kiss, pressing his lips against hers as he cups her face. She backs up slightly in surprise, bumping into the table behind herself. Aaron’s instincts are sharp, he reaches behind her and steadies it so the drink doesn’t crash against the floor and draw more attention to them. She knows the few people in this corner are already looking at them, but she doesn’t care. 

This is a kiss she’s waited a decade for. 

Her hands go inside his suit jacket, she reaches around to grasp his back and pulls him flush against herself. They break the kiss just to breathe, going in for another and another until their tongues meet and they’re the odd couple making out in the corner of the party. 

His hand slips from her cheek to her jaw, along the side of her neck and then she pulls away, “not here,” she reminds him they’re in public and he can’t touch her anywhere he wants to. 

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “How long do we have to stay here?” 

“I have to stay for shutdown tonight,” she sighs. “But…. Come with me.” 

She pats his side and moves past him, leading him out of the little corner they’re in and towards the main room. He follows her up a staircase, past people they both know and respect and they catch a few eyes but, she puts on a fake pissed-off look and they think she’s leading him somewhere to yell at him… cause that’s what they do. 

“Hey man, where are you going?” Derek asks as they pass him and Penelope sharing a plate of hors d’oeuvres. 

He’s quick on his feet, “One of the vendors fucked up, we have to chat with their boss and discuss how they can make it up to us.” 

“Oh, damn, well… have fun,” he teases. Letting them go on down the small corridor towards some offices. 

She leads him to the only open office she has access to, flicks on the light, lets him in and locks the door behind them. He’s quick to crowd her space, press her up against the door and grip her chin to tilt her attention up toward his eyes once more. She’s back inside his suit jacket, he’s so toasty-warm in there she can only imagine what it’ll be like to be naked with him.

“What were you saying about fucking up and making up for it?” She teases him. 

He smirks, “I will… but first we need to find a way to release all that pent-up frustration we have against each other.” 

She tries her best not to laugh, just shaking her head with a smile as she lets out a little huff, “Ah yes, fuck me like you hate me so we can restart fresh.” 

He cups her face with both hands, eyes darkening with lust, “you’ve been such a brat for so long.” 

“And I’m sure you know the cure for that?” She teases, pulling him in closer. One of her legs slips out of the slit of her dress and she brings it up to wrap around his hip, he’s quick to drop one of the hands from her cheek to grip her thigh. 

“I do,” he whispers, his voice so deep it makes her stomach drop with anticipation. 

He kisses her abruptly, she grips his back pulling him as if they could possibly get any closer but they can’t. Not yet. He grinds against her as their tongues meet again, his hand on her leg goes a little higher until he’s gripping her ass. The hand on her cheek starts to slip again, caressing her chest, she lightly moans into his mouth at the feeling. He’s everywhere, boxing her in against the door, but she wants more. She wants him buried deep inside of her, pounding her against the table over there, letting her know just how much he’s wanted her this whole time. 

He kisses the side of her mouth, her jaw and down her neck, letting her catch her breath just to knock it all out of her again when he starts to lightly suck on her skin. “Aaron, don’t you fucking dare,” she scolds him. 

“I won’t,” he speaks against her, just lightly nipping and sucking at her skin on his way down to her cleavage. 

She pulls her hands out from inside his jacket to roam his shoulders until one hand ends up at the nape of his neck to play with his hair. Her head is tossed back against the door, and he kisses every inch of available skin on her chest. 

He reaches down and gets both of his hands under her ass, making her jump up so he can carry her. Still kissing her neck, he moves them over to the table and sets her down. She’s just the tiniest bit taller now, he kisses her cheek again, looking her in the eye once more as he spreads her legs and runs his fingers along her thighs, realizing now she has nylons on. His hands go further, towards her aching cunt, he grips her thighs while both thumbs play with the seam of her nylons. 

“I’m gonna rip these,” he announces, finding the weakest part of the seam and tearing it open enough to fit his cock through, without completely ruining them. He moves her thong to the side and drags his index finger over her clit. “You’re fucking soaked…”

She tosses her head back, both hands gripping the table like her ice depends on it when two of his fingers plunge into her. “Oh, fuck,” she moans a little too loud. 

Attaching his lips to her neck again, he sucks on her pulse point while fucking her on his fingers. It’s hard and quick, covering the palm of his hand with her slick as his thumb rubs her clit. She’s always known his hands would be good for this, if nothing else.

“Please, Aaron? Oh my god,” She starts to beg.

“Words, princess,” he teases against her neck, teeth grazing her skin, his breath hot, it sends a shiver down her spine. 

“Wanna cum,” she whispers, breathy and so close. “On your cock.” 

“Okay,” he pulls out, bringing his hand to his mouth and licking his palm up to his fingers. He sucks them into his mouth with a groan. His cock twitches between them, jumping with excitement. 

She whines again while he undoes the zipper and tugs his cock out, “please?” 

“Hold on,” he spreads the excess wetness over his cock, stroking himself twice while biting his tongue. It clearly felt so fucking good but she knew her tight cunt was going to be better. 

He slips in slowly and her grip changes, letting go of the counter, she wraps her legs around him and grips his back with her fingernails dug into the skin. “Better?” He whispers into her ear. 

She whimpers when he doesn’t move, feeling so full, “fuck me, please? Fuck me the way I deserve.” 

He hums, kissing her cheek before looking into her eyes, all watery and blown out, her mascara started to run a bit. He tilts his head to the side, “how hard?” 

“Hard,” she looks him dead in the face. 

He slips out, pulls her off the table and turns her around so her chest is against the cold hardwood table-top and flips her dress skirt up and out of the way. He rips her nylons even more, all the way up the back so her ass is exposed. He takes her ass cheeks in his hands and spreads her apart, amazed at how her pussy clenched in anticipation. 

“Please,” she whined, almost stomping her feet with desperation. 

He slams into her without warning, making her gasp loud enough to be heard by anyone wandering the hallway outside.

He pulls out a bit and slams back into her again and again and again until the noises she’s making are complete nonsense. She whines and moans and leans against the table for dear life while pushing back against him. He slaps her ass a few times, making the sound reverberate around the room like an echo. 

He needs more friction, so his thrusts get less powerful and more rhythmic, he uses her like a toy bouncing her on his cock like a rag doll. She felt like her main purpose in life was to be fucked by him like this, it felt so good, it felt incredibly right, and she loved every fucking second of it. All those years of fighting paid the fuck off.

He slams into her cervix over and over, the head of his cock kissing the puckered spot inside again and again. Her hungry cunt sucks him in so deep, never wanting him to leave, and he can tell she’s close just from the way she clamps around him like a vice. He reached around to her stomach and drags his hand down her mound to rub her clit with his middle finger. The rhythm barely matches, but she loves the way it feels. It’s unpredictable, it’s all under his control, she just sits there and takes it like the good girl he’s raised her to be. 

“Cum on the cock you hate so much,” he insists, “I wanna feel it. I want you to cover my cock in your cum before I fill you up to the fucking brim.” 

Too fucked out to really respond she reaches one hand behind her back so he’ll hold it. He intertwines their fingers and leans forward to kiss her shoulder as his hips snap against hers with force. She starts to shake, her legs barely able to keep her up as her orgasm hits her and rattles through her body. He feels the spasm from the inside, her cunt flutters as she releases all the built-up tension in her body She’s so fucking tight he’s barely able to register his own orgasm approaching when he topples over her on the table. 

He fucks into her as deep as he can go and then stills. She can feel rope after rope of his cum pump into her, they can hear the dribbles on the floor between them as it overflows and drips out of her, along with her own. 

He kisses her back, breathing hard against her. She’s just trapped there under him, legs quaking in her heels, “holy fuck?” 

“Sorry,” he pulls back and out of her, “shit… we didn’t think this through.” 

She sighs, holding her dress up so she doesn’t make a mess. “Are there any tissues in here?” 

He looks around, “Yeah… but it’s just that brown paper towel roll like we have at work.” 

“It’ll do,” she shrugs. Watching him walk over to the dispenser near the sink in the corner of the room, he takes a bit out and cleans himself up quickly, putting himself back in his boxers before her gets some more.

He leans her forward again, kneeling behind her, he cleans her up to the best of his ability and then he repositions her thong. He even wipes up the floor before tossing the paper out. “I can’t believe there was so much…” 

She laughs, dropping her dress back down and fluffing it so it looks normal again. “10 years worth of—

“Okay,” he shakes his head with a smirk, stepping back into her space, he wraps her up and kisses her forehead, “you did so good.” 

“Thank you,” she smiles sweetly, she feels so different. There’s so much affection in her chest as she looks up at him once more. “I’m glad we got that out of the way.” 

“I’ll stay with you here while they’re cleaning up,” he assures. “And maybe later I can show you how sorry I am for keeping secrets all these years?” 

“I’d really like that… but I’m still not working for you,” she teases. 

“I guess I’ll just have to take on more CARD cases so you’re forced to see me,” he teases right back, smiling at her. 

This is going to be fun. 

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