#hard of hearing deceit

[coryosbaby]

I am BEGGING you to write about hannigram x innocent fem reader. mayyyybee featuring age gap and breeding? :) she just asks them "what does break my belt mean?" and oh..

Caretaker… Hannigram x fem! Reader

Synopsis: it’s up to Will and Hannibal to take care of you, however that may be.

Content warning . 18+, MDNI age gap (reader is in her early 20s), spanking/usage of belts, punishments, dumbification, threesome, cum play, daddy kink . hard dom! Hannibal, soft dom! Will

Author’s Note: I didn’t know how to go about this (my brain isn’t braining rn) so I did smth similar :) this is literally pure filth like Im ovulating sorry

‧₊˚ 🩰 ⋅* ‧₊

“You need to stop being so hard on yourself.”

Will’s voice is soft as he gently rubs your sock clad feet, watching the small wince that you make when he grazes over a bruised toe. You adjust yourself on your bed, bottom becoming numb from how long you’ve been sitting. You slide the sleeves of your dress back up on your shoulders— they have a hard time staying up, and it’s something that annoys you incredibly.

“He’s right,” Hannibal chimes from the cushioned seat in the corner of the room. He closes the book in his hand and sets it on the desk beside him. It’s funny, how different these two men look in your pink, frilly room. “You’re working yourself too hard, little one.”

You frown, feeling the bed dip as Hannibal joins you and Will’s side.

“But ballet is important to me.”

“So is your health,” Will replies, and notices the way you seem to fidget in your dress. “Is your dress bothering you, baby?”

You nod, heat creeping up your neck when Will lifts the hem of it over your head. Now clad in your bra and cotton panties, you feel open and exposed. But since it’s Hannibal and Will, you feel safer than you’ve ever been.

“Come here,” Will says, and you crawl over to the place in between his spread thighs as he leans against your headboard. Hannibal follows in quiet suit, moving to Will’s side and holding your hand in his much larger one. Will’s hands play with your hair as you think back to something you’d been wanting to ask the two for a while.

“Can one of you use your belt on me?”

The soft scrape against your scalp stops at the question.

“What?”

“I mean,” you mumble, cheeks flaring. “I was watching a video.. ‘n.. the guy, he—“

“You’ve been watching naughty videos?” Hannibal inquires. You shake your head, wide doe eyes flashing.

“No!” You reply, too quickly. “No, of course not.”

“Hmm,” the man shifts, gripping the soft skin of your jaw gently with his hand. Looking into your eyes, he can see the deceit in them. “You have, haven’t you? You know what we say about those videos, darling. They’re bad for you,” he looks back to the other man in the room. “Maybe we will have to spank her after all. Don’t you think, Will?”

“Play nice, Hannibal,” Will warns, though his mouth pulls into a small, amused smirk. “She’s sensitive. Probably doesn’t even know what she’s asking for.”

“I do.” you whine, pawing at the sleeve of Hannibal’s suit. He chuckles, thumb rubbing gently over your wrist.

“Come here then, little one,” Hannibal coos. “Over my knee.”

Your eyes widen, pouty lips dropping open in awe.

“Now?” You squeak.

Will rolls his eyes, patting you softly on the arm.

“You heard him, Bunny. Go on.”

Getting on your hands and knees, panty clad ass now revealing the puff ball bunny tail on the back of the fabric, the two of them think you’re the cutest little thing they’ve ever seen. You hear the sound of a belt buckle being undone, and watch as Will hands over his belt to Hannibal. It’s your favorite one, plain black but with a belt buckle that has your initials imprinted. Will wears it often— he’s not one to have flashy accessories, but since it was a gift from you he cherishes it dearly.

Since Will is on Hannibal’s left side, you decide to position yourself with your face directed towards him. This leads to your arms and face being smooshed against Will’s thighs, and he gently rubs your head with his hands. Hannibal hums when your ass lifts up for him, bunny tail flickering as you move your hips to get his attention.

“We should keep these on, don’t you think?” He says, fingers grazing over the bunny tail. “Too precious to pull them down, lover.”

You nod shyly, letting out a puff of air when Will’s fingers begin fumbling with the hooks on your bra. He advises you to slide the straps off your shoulders when he undoes them, and you awkwardly shuffle them off. Will’s hands move around your back to grope one of your breasts. The feeling of cold leather against your backside makes you whimper, and Hannibal positions his hand on the bottom of your thigh.

“Move your hands behind your back,” Hannibal demands. “You aren’t in any position of control. If you want to stop, you know the rules.”

“Yes, daddy,” you reply, almost immediately. You move your arms back to link them together, Will’s hands gripping the both of yours tightly to make sure you don’t move.

“Good girl,” and then, “You’re going to count each one I give you. We will stop at ten since this is your first time.”

You nod, as much as you can with your face buried in Will’s lap. You can feel the hardness in his pants, right up against your cheek, and your mouth waters.

There’s a comforting rub against your left cheek before Hannibal brings the belt down. It isn’t too bad, a slight sting that makes you jump.

“One.” You say, quietly. Your ass lifts up for more.

“Good,” Hannibal praises, soothing the skin once more. “Are you going to watch those videos again?”

You stay silent, contemplating but also being quiet on purpose. You can’t deny that Hannibal getting angry with you makes your panties drenched.

At this, Hannibal slams the belt down onto you once again. A warning. You cry out this time, feeling a burning sensation along your skin.

“Don’t make me ask you again,” he says sternly. “And don’t make me have to break my belt on you, little one.”

“What does that mean?” you whine, ditzy little head genuinely confused by such a simple term. You inhale the scent of Will’s pants, and from above you, the brunette’s hands gently soothe your back.

“Told you, Hanni,” he singsongs. “Doesn’t even know what she’s asking for.”

“Ignoring your interruption,” Hannibal says, annoyed (but not really). He directs his attention back to you. “Tell me, little one. Yes or no?”

You bite your lower lip, cheeks flaring as your arousal increases.

“Yes.”

Hannibal scoffs.

“You’re asking for it, aren’t you?”

The belt comes down on you again. You jump, tears beginning to pool along your waterline.

“What was that?” Hannibal demands harshly. “Was that a yes that I heard?”

“No!” You say. “No, daddy, I’ll never ever watch those videos again! I promise, promise…”

You thrash against the pain, and Hannibal’s palms rub the sore skin.

“Alright,” he replies. “but I’m adding five more. Naughty girls who don’t listen get punished.”

“Hannibal,” Will warns. “She’s fragile.”

“She’s a brat, is what she is, Will. Stop defending her,” Hannibal’s hands wrap around your hair, pulling your teary eyed face up and craning your neck. “Now count. Starting from three.”

The belt comes down again, and your hands ache, along with your bottom.

“T-Three.” You say. The belt comes down on you again, and again. You count to five.

“You really need to be harder on her,” Hannibal says to Will, who’s subtly grinding against your face as he watches you writhe below him. “She needs to learn that her actions have consequences.”

“I know,” Will sighs, then gently taps the tip of your nose, and smiles softly. “But look at how precious she is.”

Hannibal rolls his eyes, bringing out the sixth then seventh hit. You can already feel the blooming of bruises by the time you hit number ten, and your aching pussy grinds down into Hannibal’s thigh. He seems to allow this, and by the twelfth hit, he’s teasing you about it.

“Is this arousing you, lover?” He asks, amused. “You only have three more to go. You better enjoy it.”

“Mm, she is,” Will cuts in, reaching down between your legs to feel your soaked panties. “Little pussy is so wet,” and then, “You ruined your panties, pup.”

Mewling, you allow another smack to come down onto your ass.

“T-Thirteen,” you whimper out. “Could.. could you buy me some new panties, Will?”

Another smack. Another number. Will tilts his head, staring at your panty clad ass.

“Mm,” he replies. “I don’t know, Hannibal. What do you think?” His fingers grasp the puff ball tail and tug it up. This makes your panties ride up in between your folds, and you gasp, humiliated. “I think baby blue would really suit her.”

“That, or lilac,” the eldest man replies. “We’ll get you a new set, little one. But only because it benefits us as much as it benefits you.”

You smile, giddy with excitement to take another shopping trip. Hannibal rubs your ass again, and Will kisses you on the head.

“One more for us, alright?”

You nod, perky ass throbbing with heat. Hannibal slams the belt down, and this time you let out a sob. It was the harshest hit, one sure to leave a welt or two. Hannibal coos when he sees your look of pain, throwing the belt to the side and gently massaging you.

“Shhh. It’s alright. Come here, darling.”

You maneuver your body to slide in between Hannibal’s legs, pulling him into a hug. His arms wrap around your smaller form, and he kisses your hair, allowing you to bury your face into his shoulder. You let out a few more stray tears while he and Will both soothe the ache on your bottom.

“You know we only do this because we have to.” Hannibal murmurs.

“I know, daddy.”

“Actions have consequences, and you asked for this sort of punishment. So we decided to give it to you,” he explains, and pulls away to wipe away your tears with his thumbs. “Did you enjoy it?”

You nod, a small smile grazing your lips.

“I did. I enjoyed it a lot.”

“Good,” he replies. “And since you’ve taken your punishment so well, I’m giving you the opportunity to ask for something. Whatever you want, you can have it.”

Your eyes brighten.

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

You lick your lips, contemplating your options with excitement.

“Hmm,” you say, and then finally come to your decision. You look over to your second boyfriend, who seems to be watching you with an almost love struck gaze. “I want Will… want his mouth. Please?”

Will licks his lips at the statement. Oral is one of his favorite things to give.

“Very well,” Hannibal says, then gestures for Will. “She can lay in between my legs. You lay between hers.”

Will nods, and you happily turn around and begin sliding off your panties. Spreading your legs, you look up at Will with doe eyes as he approaches you. His lips touch yours, sliding easily against the expanse of your mouth. When he pulls away, the scent of your arousal overtakes his senses. He groans, moving down in between your legs.

Hannibal’s big arms wrap around your shoulders, keeping you still. Will flawlessly licks a stripe up your slit, making you whimper and hold onto Hannibal for dear life as he begins to eat you like a man starved. His mouth works wonders against your tiny hole and aching clit as he groans into your cunt, drinking your sweet juices like it’s nectar of the Gods.

“How does she taste?” Hannibal asks, even though he already knows the answer. He loves to go down on you just as much as the other man.

Will pulls away, chin dripping and hair disheveled.

“So fuckin’ sweet,” he gasps out, nosing at your folds. His thumbs spread them apart, exposing your hole that’s coated in creamy slick. “Cutest fuckin’ cunt I’ve ever seen.”

You clench, letting him see the opening and closing of your hole. You want him to stick his tongue back inside.

You don’t have to wait long for that, because a mere second later Hannibal’s big hand splays across the back of Will’s head and pushes him back down. Will lets out a moan at this, allowing Hannibal to guide his head up and down and every which way that brings you closer and closer to your peak. Hannibal smirks, watching the way you writhe under his tongue and watch Will with hungry, lidded eyes.

“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” He says, and you can feel his hardness pressing against your back.

Drool seeps down your chin as you nod.

“Mhm..” you whine out. Your hands go to the boy’s hair, and he whimpers when you tug on the strands.

“He likes when you do that,” Hannibal observes, his tone low. He kisses the shell of your ear. “Do it again.”

You comply, watching the way Will’s hips grind down into the mattress when it happens and the way Hannibal lets out a heavy breath. Will’s mouth works harder, bringing your clit in between his lips and lightly sucking. You gasp out his name, hips moving against him in tandem.

“Will, Daddy.. ‘m so close..”

“Close, yes?” Hannibal taunts, and his grip around your throat tightens. His biceps practically squeeze your neck as you near closer and closer to your high, your throat gasping for breath. When your orgasm overtakes you, Hannibal loosens his grip, but not quite. You let out a raw, pleasure filled moan when you cum, Will working you through until the point of overstimulation, your legs shaking and your sock clad feet pushing on his shoulders. He chuckles when he pulls away, a pleased grin forming as he wipes his slick coated mouth on the back of his wrist. And boy, is it a sight. He licks up the remaining remnants of your arousal with his tongue, hands splaying on either side of you and Hannibal’s legs so he can move up and kiss you filthily on the mouth. Hannibal is next, a tender peck that makes the cock against your lower back twitch. It has him licking his lips when Will pulls away, his lashes fluttering as he sighs in content. He presses a kiss to your mouth, too, and relaxes even further.

It’s only a mere moment of rest before you can feel that familiar throb again, and the sight of your two boys bulging through their pants makes you drool. You spread your legs, overstimulated pussy on full display.

Will, who had been laying at the foot of the bed in front of the both of you, watches with hunger. You lean away from Hannibal, instead turning yourself on your knees and presenting yourself to Will, who’s already positioning himself behind you eagerly. Hannibal, the most patient out of all three of you, no doubt, finally takes his aching cock out of his pants and wraps a hand around himself at the scene. You hear the rustling of Will’s fly being undone, then his length is pressed against your ass and wet, oh so wet, even when he slides it in between your folds and sheathes himself inside your little hole with one swift movement. Your mouth drops open at the sensation of being filled, your hands finding purchase on Hannibal’s thick thighs in front of you. His cock is hitting his stomach, red and leaking drops of precum down the tip, and you watch as Hannibal rubs it up and down with his hand. You look up at him pleadingly as Will begins to pound you into the mattress.

“You want daddy’s cock in your mouth, is that it?” Hannibal teases, and you nod. He sighs, directing the tip of his cock towards you. “Open wide, sweet girl.”

You happily obey, tongue lolling out to lick at his tip, his stringy precum sticking to your bottom lip and the head of his cock, tasting absolutely divine. Will’s hands roam over your ass as his cock bullies your gummy walls.

“Mm, Hanni got you good, didn’t he, baby?” He says, examining the marks. “Gonna have to put some lotion on that later.”

The use of the nickname in Will’s mouth is a mockery of your own. You nod, however, pouting.

“Mhm. But Daddy knows what’s best for me.”

“That’s right,” Hannibal grunts out, when you take him fully down your throat. “Dumb little girls like you can’t think for themselves. That’s why you need Will and I to take care of you,” and then, “God, darling, your mouth is just perfect.”

You hum, choking on him. Will’s fingers bruise your hips now, his balls slapping against your ass with every harsh thrust. Your pussy quakes around him, clamping down on his length. His breath is warm against your ear as he pushes in and out of you.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, baby..” as he watches your ass bounce back against him.

“Look at that tight little pussy, practically choking my dick.” as he spreads your cheeks apart, watching the way you take him.

“Hannibal’s cock tastes good, doesn’t it?” As you come up for air and gasp, drool soaking your neck and chin.

You can feel when he gets close by the way his hips stutter, and with a lewd whine hes babbling endlessly.

“I’m gonna cum,” he says. “Gonna cum in this slut pussy— god, squeeze me just like that.”

“Please,” you whimper endlessly, and you can hear Hannibal let out a breathy chuckle.

“She wants it. She wants you to cum in her cunt,” his voice drops an octave as he watches the boy. “Come on. I need something to lubricate her more once I get my turn, don’t I?”

“Oh—“

Will’s eyes roll back, his body tensing up as he finally releases inside her. She clenches down on him, milking him for all he’s worth as he shoots rope after rope deep inside her gaping pussy. Hannibal’s fingers nestle into the boy’s hair as he rides out his orgasm, gently twirling the soft locks in between his fingers. You watch with your mouth turned into an o, burying yourself deeper against Hannibal’s chest in retaliation.

“There you go,” Hannibal coos when Will sighs against your chest, spent. “Good boy.”

“Tease,” Will mumbles back to him, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck. His eyes look up at you and he smiles. “Are you okay?”

You giggle, nodding your head.

“More than okay.”

He looks down at the mess between your thighs as he pulls out, grunting. A trail of his spend pools out of you and onto the sheets.

His fingers begin to move up to your drenched clit— you need release to, after all, and Will is never a selfish lover—but before he can, Hannibal’s hand grabs his wrist.

“No,” he utters. “Let me, once I’m inside her.”

“Like I said,” Will grumbles, moving out from between your legs to settle back against the headboard. “Tease.”

Hannibal rolls his eyes, guiding you to turn around and face him. You bite your lower lip at the feeling of Will’s cum trailing down your thighs. Hannibal undoes his belt, pulling down his zipper so his pants are open and his briefs are exposed.

“Take me out, darling.”

She reaches into the waistband of his underwear, pulling his length out and giving it a few languid strokes. Will watches, his spent cock twitching against his stomach. He ignores it, instead deciding to move to your side and press a kiss to your heated cheek. His hand provides a comforting pressure to the back of your head as he settles it in your hair. Hannibal tilts his head, grabbing the back of your thighs and pulling you into his lap.

“Put my cock inside you,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Be a good girl.”

Your lashes flutter at the vulgar term spilling from the usually polite man’s lips. Will’s hands scrape against your scalp and your brain is fuzzy with how good it all feels. Grabbing Hannibal’s length in your hand, you position your dripping cunt over the tip of his cock.

Sinking down makes your brows furrow. Hannibal isn’t as big as Will, but that isn’t saying much. The man still has a considerable size, and his girth stretches your gummy walls exceptionally. You whimper, settling down to the very base of his cock. Hannibal’s head tilts back and hits the headboard, his eyes squeezing shut to get used to the sensation of you wrapped around him. His big hands splay across your hips and Will nuzzles your throat affectionately.

“Daddy.” you whine, your little pussy beginning to rock onto Hannibal.

“Yes?”

“Fuck me, please?”

He smiles, pulling you further against him so he can brace his feet underneath you. His cock gives a few shallow thrusts, getting used to your heat, before moving into more dangerous territory. It isn’t long before he’s jackhammering into you, your head tilted back by Will’s big hands. He demands you open your mouth, and you do. A glob of spit lands on your tongue, which you swallow greedily. Hannibal groans as he watches the scene.

“Filthy little things,” he mutters, pulling you into a kiss. You both share Will’s saliva on your intertwining tongues.

Your thighs shake as Hannibal’s cock and balls leak with Will’s cum. The sound is utterly sinful— the gushing sounds of his cock pummeling your filled pussy, his balls slapping against your ass, the sobs tearing through your throat. Tears stream down your cheeks and you’re sobbing.

Hannibal’s fingers reach down to your clit, deftly rubbing against the swollen nub exactly the way you like. It isn’t long before you reach your peak, your pussy clenching down as a string of filthy words makes its way out of your throat, burying your face in Hannibal’s white button down and staining it with salty tears. Will is an absolute sweetheart, guiding your hips with his hands to help you, cooing little sweet sayings in your ear. He cakes your throat in pretty red marks.

Hannibal draws closer to his orgasm, small grunts and heavy breaths spilling out of his mouth. It isn’t long before he empties inside you, filling you up with a second load of sticky, white cum. He pulls your limp body off of his length, your pussy making a gushing sound as both of your boyfriend’s dribble out of you. The two men sigh when they see it, their cocks both twitching at the sight.

But all three of you have had enough for the day— or at least for the next few hours. Hannibal disappears out of the room for a moment to bring back a glass of water and lotion. He holds the water to your lips and sweetly coos, “you’ve been such an obedient girl. Drink, okay?”

You do, of course. You drink the whole damn glass.

After going into the bathroom to pee and wipe your cum covered thighs, Hannibal lotions your sore bottom with gentle hands. After this you finally crawl back into bed, moving onto your stomach and hugging your pillow tightly. Will chuckles.

“You don’t want a bubble bath?” He asks, because that’s usually what you request. But you just shake your head, your eyes fluttering shut. Not asleep, but almost. Will nods his head. “Later then, sweet girl.”

The boy crawls to your side, wrapping his big arm around you and pulling you to his side. Hannibal soon joins, his tie loosened and jacket off, pants unbuttoned. It’s rare to see him in such a messy state, relaxed. Only you and Will can help him unwind like this.

He lays on his back, and you lay your head on his chest, inhaling his strong, expensive cologne. Beside you, you can smell the aftershave that Will wears— Hannibal teases him about it, but you’re quite fond of it. It smells like home.

They smell like home.

You smile sleepily, watching with barely open eyes as Hannibal and Will’s hands connect over you. As you fall into a peaceful sleep, the two men on either side of you stay wide awake.

After a moment, Will chuckles.

“So I’m assuming we’ll be using my belt more often?”

“Guaranteed,” hannibal confirms, watching you drool onto his shirt in your sleep. He never mentions it to you because he doesn’t want you to be embarrassed. “Perhaps we can use it on you next time, Will”

The younger man scoffs, his cheeks flaring as he buries his face into your hair.

“Shut up, Hanni.”

:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry @princesstiti14 @aerangi @kaithoughs @jamespotterismydaddy @wildgirllz

[themilfking]

wait I know why we hate AIPAC but what did ADL do? I thought the anti defamation League was good

The ADL is an Israeli/Zionist advocacy group at its core. It's main priority as an organization is to protect Israel and its mission for a Jewish Ethno-State. This is especially true under Johnathan Greenblatt's leadership who has said "antizionism is antisemitism" It's easy to think that the "Anti Defamation League" has no underlying agenda given its history as a "civil rights organization" but it has constantly used that as a screen for extremely right wing positions on Israel. Some of their greatest hits include: Equating Students for Justice in Palestine, JVP, and CAIR to "white supremacists" simply because they strongly oppose an ethnic cleansing of Palestinians. A leaked ADL memo revealing how ADL plans to "soften" the news to Americans that Israel plans to annex the West Bank. (Source). In this leak Greenblatt recognizes that the annexation is a violation of basic human rights. To me this is a clear indication that they are less concerned with civil rights and more concerned with shaping the public image of Israel, especially in the US. Really urge you all to read this leak! Supported South African Apartheid (surprise surprise) and participated in propaganda against Nelson Mandela and the ANC. They even employed a spy named Roy Bullock to infiltrate the anti-apartheid campaign in the US. They later settled a law suit for this. (Source) That's not even close to the only time they've utilized spies. THIS recent leak of Greenblatt talks about ADL having spies in Jewish Voice for Peace and other organizations. It also talks about how they are having a hard time with the global youth no longer buying into their propaganda. Another source you should give your full attention to. PLEASE listen to that whole thing. It's truly terrifying. You're gonna hear them talk a lot about why Tiktok is a danger to their mission.

HERE is an article about how the ADL has a long history of smearing black activists, working with Police/ICE, and its attempts to demonize the BDS movement. I could go on and on about how terrible and deceitful the ADL is. The sources above are a good start to understanding why we shouldn't trust the ADL but please look into all the other things they've done like working with the FBI to spy on Arab Americans, infiltrating student organizations they find to be a threat to "Israel's image", surveillance, the people who fund/donate to them etc.

The best way to fight orgs like this is to share/spread this info as much as you can. It's clearly working because they're losing global support especially with the youth.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

➤𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖺 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅 || Stanley Gleeful ||

A/n: no one asked for this,but had to write something for a reverse! Falls Stan

Stanley Gleeful was a greedy man, the people that really knew him might say he is a psychopath, mean and deceitful but you didn't see him as any of those things.

He didn't think that his charms would work that well on you. The man was honestly just trying to rob you of your money with you being tourist, it should have been easy.

You fell for his honeyed words easily enough so why did enjoy being around you so much. You were just some random broad, Stan should hate the way you smiled at him, how you giggled when he preformed one of his little tricks.

He really shouldn't take satisfaction in killing that piece of shit you were with though he had to admit how lax you were about it until you let slip how abusive the man was.

Maybe he loved you, maybe it was an obsession but Stan was going to show that you were his and his alone to all these bastards, to anyone that would dare to step in his office.

"Be a good girl for me." Stan muttered against your neck as his hand glided up your thigh pushing up your skirt. God he would love nothing more than to rip your clothes off.

A whimper escaped your lips feeling his fingers brush your warmth through your panties, teasing you.

"Stan."

Lips against your neck, his other hand held you firmly in place. "You're gonna look so good draped in nothin but my amulet doll face....I'm gonna fuck ya so hard you're gonna forget my name."

Breath hitching, your eyes slipped closed as you let your nails dig into his desk as he pushed your panties aside slowly teased your slit.

"Now, now darlin. Don't old back for little old me. I want those fuckers to hear what I am doing to you."

[rjthirsty]

"I'm Pregnant" with IkePri

We've seen how dating, their first time, and engagement proposals pan out, but what Cybird will never deliver to us is that pivotal moment that MC tells one of the LIs that she's expecting.

This is just my idea of how it will work out with each suitor. MC is AFAB, and all suitors are AMAB. Obvious mentions of pregnancy lie ahead. Just a fun little exercise to test out drabbles. 

[7/21] Jin, Chevalier, and Gilbert done

Jin

Jin is the king of pulling out, but somewhere along the line, he slipped up and it resulted in nothing so he started to get lax. Somewhere along the line, you two stopped worrying about it. More times than not he still denies you the creampie that it turns out he enjoys seeing seep out of you. But now you're late, and maybe you two should have been more vigilant.

It's hard to find the words. You confirmed it with a physician, and you know you need to tell him, but having a baby with a commoner churns up trauma for Jin, and you're afraid he'll turn you out.

He's worried. You have never looked so ashen. When you said you needed to talk, he dropped everything to give you time. His large hand palms your cheek. He dips down to look into your eyes. And in a voice that has helped you through countless times he says “Whatever it is, it'll be okay.”

“I'm pregnant.” You finally manage. 

Shock leaves him wide-eyed in surprise. It takes him a moment to zip through the thoughts that spring into his mind - a million possibilities, questions, and outcomes on what he'd do if this day had ever come. Then a grin lights up his face and you almost miss it as he wraps his arms around you and lifts you off the ground to hug tightly to him, spinning around from the sheer joy of having a child with you.

He's better than his father. And you're not his mother. And the world is a different place with the two of you together. He's more excited than you thought he'd be. He talks to your stomach even before the child can hear him. He wants to princess carry you everywhere. And he introduces you as the mother of his children.

Chevalier

The way Chev looked at you after you told him the news was chilling - not because it was his icy stare that had silenced rooms and struck fear in children, but because you had never seen him… scared. He was scared. The news was not happily recieved as you thought it would be.

As the two of you prepared for bed and you talked of your day, you broke the news with excitement and turned to see him stunned and staring. “Chevalier?” You called to him. His eyes cut from your belly to your face.

“It's okay. You're not a beast, and I'm not afraid of you.�� Attempting to soothe his worries, you moved closer and slowly snuggled into his chest. “I'd be lucky to have a child just like you, because you're an amazing man.”

He relaxed in your arms, his own arms surrounded you as he dropped his chin to put his lips on your head. “I'd rather have a child like you who can love someone like me. You may never understand him if he's like me.”

“But I don't need to to love him.”

From that day forward, Chevalier dove into reading about medical studies and other literature on pregnancy, labor, and delivery. He stated checking up on you more often and bringing you all sorts of items said to help with pregnancy issues. He would have delivered your child himself except thankfully Clavis helped you talk him out of it. There are some things you'd rather he not be in the middle of.

Gilbert

“Do you want me to tell him?” Walter asked, a serious note in his voice.

“No. I want him to hear it from me.”

You knew the news of family was not a joyous thing in Obsidian. Especially for Gilbert. The land of deceit and decay, where families had murdered families for generations. Where the Emperor carried the sins of the Obsidian line that had wrought death and bloodshed countless times across this kingdom and others.

Gil had wanted to end it. To stop his line from continuing. And here you were, pregnant with his child. He wouldn't hurt you you were certain, but he might actually lock you up this time in order to prevent anybody else from hurting you. He could if he wanted. But living like that would leave everyone unhappy.

In order to prevent another bed-chaining, you visit him in his study. Before you made it two steps inside the room, he stood from his chair and moved towards you, worry clouding his face. He felt your anxiety. Something was not right with you, and he knew it.

“I'm fine,” you assured him as he quickly looked you over. “I just… have something to tell you.”

Gil's perfect smile covered up his momentary worry. “Surely, no one has bothered my little rabbit. Yet your heart is racing like the day we met.”

“No, no one has bothered me.” You step closer to him and wrap your arms around him, trapping him in place. With a lean of your back, you lock onto his single red eye to show how serious you are, and plainly explain, “I'm pregnant.”

His hands fly out, snatching you close to him as he squeezed you against his chest, holding onto you like you might somehow slip away if he were to let go. This is not the first time he has done this. You brace against him, giving him at least a few seconds of his desperate hugging before it begins to feel like he'll crush you. It always goes like this. 

“Gil! Gilbert, please. I can't breathe.”

He relinquished you, and as you gasped lungfuls of air, he scooped you up and strode out the door. “Wait! Gil! Where are we going?”

You were used to the palace by now that you knew he was headed towards his bedroom. Even if he didn't answer, you could already see how this was going to go. “Put me down! I am not going to be locked up and hidden away. That is not how you treat people you love.”

“Do you presume you can order me around?”

“No, but if you do this, I will never forgive you.”

Gilbert slowed his steps and came to a stop. In his eye you could see emotion wavering, and while you hadn't learned how to read him as well as he knew how to read you, you had learned to see the different sides of him that he only shared with you. 

“Now,” you began calmly, “I'll make some tea, and we can talk about this. At a table. With no shackles or rope.”

“I’m so weak to your requests. At least let me lock the doors so no one can bother us.”

“You can lock the doors if I get the key to them during our talk.”

Gilbert's biggest fear is losing someone he loves. He recognizes he has desires to control and cage MC to keep her safe from others, but he also knows those desires are not acceptable. He's at the mercy of his emotions, and despite being a genius, he often acts on whims, especially relating to MC. I'd love to explore this further. See how far we can push him.

[xxkissesforchanniexx]

❥‧ not a word

in which: all the warnings were true. and he was the one guy you should've told no.

genre: angst. pairing: fuckboy!hyunjin x fem!reader. rating: mature mdni. masterlist

warnings: mentions of virginity loss, toxic situationship, reader is a simp, a whole lotta yap, not proofread, rough sex

a/n: im getting back into writing finally... no promises though. a lot has been gong on recently so sorry I havent posted. new style >.> someone tell me if you liked the other one better

There was two things you learned going through your sophomore year of college. The first was pay attention to the lectures and the second was list to the rumors. Maybe if you had listened to the rumors you wouldn't be stuck like this, stuck in this stupid cycle because the other girls had warned you. Warned you about his pretty full lips and infectious smile, his dark eyes and enticing voice.

Yet you fell.

And you fell hard.

And you let yourself be used. Apology after apology, and you forgave him every time. because he "could change".

You still remember that night, drunk after a party and he convinced you. "You're the only one for me, you're the only one I want."

You remembered how it felt clawing at his shoulders as he bucked into you, shattering your innocence in a cloud of what you thought was love. How he held you down and made you take very inch. You could still hear his whispered praises and soft moans, telling you how good you were for him, how you were made for him.

You.

Only you.

Yet it wasn't only you.

And even when you heard he was running around with so many other girls, you still forgave him when he came to your apartment with your favorite flowers and got on his knees before you. Begging you to forgive him like you were a god and he were a sinner plagued by deceit.

You still let him guide you to the couch and worship your body, his lips and mouth moving over your skin with such purpose and passion. Treating you like a princess the entirety of the day, showering you with his "love".

And he was walking with someone else not even two day later.

So what gave him the right to stop you from going around with someone new. Let that someone new into your apartment, let him flex that he'd made it between your legs.

Nothing gave him the right to stop you, or beg you. Yet he did. And you let him.

You let him get into your bed, legs hiked over his shoulders as he pounded into you, hand moving from your tit to your throat and applyingjust enough pressure to remind you. You were his.

Whatever it was you had going on, no matter how many times he'd hurt you, you still fell back into him.

It bothered you that he'd be with someone else. And it bothered him even more that you'd run to some other guy. But Hyunjin couldn't stop himself from wanting more. No matter how many times you whispered those words in the dark in his arms and he never spoke them back. Because he couldn't. Because he didn't.

You stared up into his eyes, dull ache in your chest as it weighed on you, this was fun and nothing more. He rubbed your nub furiously, drawing your orgasm out of you, fucking you through it as it hit you like a freight train. Right as his high built and his thrusts grew deerp, deep and sloppy, bruising your cervix from the force as if he wanted you to feel more than just his cock bullying into you. As if he wanted you to know even if he had all the girl he wanted in his bed, you were the only one he'd come back to every time.

"Fuck Y/n!" He groaned, throwing his head back, "I..." He shoved his cock in completely and groaned as he released his load into you.

He never spoke it once, but you felt it right as you started to fall asleep, the gentle kiss he left on your forehead before gathering his things.

You really should've listened to the rumors. Maybe you would've heard that Hyunjin would tell you a million things and more without uttering a word to you.

© 2024 xxkissesforchanniexx. DO NOT COPY OR TRANSLATE MY WORK !

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[skrrts]

stairs & life, up / down (oneshot)

✧ gn!reader x kim hongjoong ✧ genre: non idol, slice of life, strangers to love interest, comfort, soft emotional ✧ word count: 10,4k ✧ warnings: adult language, smoking (don’t do it!), loneliness, end of friendships, moving on from a relationship, getting over heartbreaks, facing challenges in life, crying

The ripping sound of paper, the clicking of a mechanical keyboard. Loneliness sounds & feels different to everyone but somehow, Hongjoong feels like you understand his. Yet, you confuse him. Why was your first encounter so bold when he hears you crying at night when you think nobody is listening? The fire escape of the old building suddenly becomes a place of comfort he didn’t expect to find in the loneliest city, filled with millions of people but now, there is you.

a/n: when i think of summer, i think of spending long nights outdoors because it's still warm and you just talk for hours without worrying about whatever happens tomorrow. hongjoong & mc both went through some hardships with different types of relationships but they are where they want to move on, all they needed was a hand to grab them and help them going forward. thanks for reading 🤎

The sound of paper being torn apart was often how Hongjoong would describe what his own heartbeak felt like and maybe, if it wasn’t already in pieces, it would be now. Fifty hours of passion, sleepless nights, and love torn apart, a woman with an unpleasant face hissing when she dropped his art like it was a random document.

“There was no reason to destroy it just because you did not like it,” he finally stated and received glares for daring to speak up. “It was garbage, what exactly did you plan to do with it? In fact, every artwork you have shown me in the past few months has been just that. What was the point in hiring you when your social media works were all fake?!”

Hongjoong wanted to wince but somehow managed to keep it together, being called deceitful as an artist who had given up so much for his art was hard.

“My style is exactly the same as the work you saw when you contacted me and I work the exact same way,” he bit his lip when she stood up and seemed more interested in answering her phone which was constantly buzzing in her overpriced pouch. People of her rank often held no passion at all, they only faked it for the smiles and the press.

”You have another month, if you cannot come up with the proper concept, you are out and of course, we cut your payment in half again. After all, since you came here five months ago, you did not deliver anything we could work with. That’s all.”

Hongjoong was about to demonstrate but the director of the publishing agency just left him standing there. 

He never wanted to come to New York, he could not care less about the city everyone wanted to live in but there had been nothing left for him back home. When he found the girl he loved and dated since high school being with another, the one he had given his whole heart to so foolishly, telling him it was a pity that kept them together for so long because just like so many other people around him, she judged him for his passion and his income rather than his values and happiness. Sure, he could survive from what he was doing but in their eyes, it was not worth to be called living. She dreamt of a house with a pool, a nice car, and an expensive beach vacation, rather than a cozy apartment, taking the bus and weekend trips.

On that day, when he was crying and walking through his hometown without direction, his parents said that it was time to finally grow up and work for a mindless ad agency that would gladly take somebody with his talent rather than chase his dreams of being permitted to illustrate an entire children's book, one with a deeper meaning unlike all the projects he was part of so far, where he often designed characters but based on guidelines rather than freely.

The invitation of a publisher seemed to be a wink of fate but now, Hongjoong simply found himself trapped in a city of millions, yet never having been more alone. 

Maybe he always had been, considering how blind love made him, believing to hold the love of a woman who cheated on him for who knows how long, likely even making use of his nights of working and being home late.

He had been such a fool.

The small ringing of a bell announced his arrival as he entered the familiar small grocery store which always was the destination at the end of days like today.

One benefit in all of his misery, Hongjoong was used to managing his life with little money, he could live from the shortened salary with some tricking and ignoring cravings. There also had been savings for emergencies, put aside for better times.

“How do you even manage to survive when this is all you eat?” San frowned, pointing at the selection of instant noodles and a few cans as he scanned each one. The store belonged to his family and the student helped out frequently. 

Hongjoong offered him a playful little grin: “Magic, Sannie. Now…”

He bit his cheek and the man knew, frowning: “Another package? You said you meant to quit smoking for good… you rather should get dinner rather than spend it on this shit.”

Painted nails brushed through dark wavy hair as he shrugged: “I’m an artist, we need to have some kind of weakness, yes? Unless I suddenly find a muse and that one makes me go insane.”

He knew the other meant well as he sighed but added a package into the plastic bag, handing it to him. “Just look out for yourself.”

Hongjoong smiled at the younger: “I always do. See ya.” The guy did not need to know what he was going through, maybe Hongjoong himself was still trying to understand just that.

It was easy to smile for everyone, he had become an expert in that field. Maybe he should join those TikTokers who made seminars out of canvas pages about something that barely was a secret but called it ‘Guide to Happiness’.

At least, he was about to be home, his haven. Hongjoong had been thrilled when he found the under-the-roof apartment because there was no AC and the building was rundown, the rent was cheap but he loved it because he easily managed to access the roof, there was nothing more beautiful than allowing himself to sulk in loneliness while watching the never sleeping city.

It was almost poetic, wasn’t it?

There also used to be the benefit of being the only one who did not put some shutters on the window which was the entrance to the fire stairs. The view was ugly, but it was handy to simply take the stairs and get right up.

Well, it used to be because the new tenant who moved into the apartment right underneath him did not seem to share the sentiment of the others, the window was always wide open and it would be creepy if he would rush past it.

He lurked up but Hongjoong noticed immediately how it was open again and he sighed, muttering to himself as he made the way up to the longer stairs. Too many. He dodged a few abandoned shoes of children in front of one, a growling dog at the third, and survived!

“I am home.” 

When he unlocked the door, silence greeted him. There no longer was anyone who rushed over to smile and welcome him back but now, he was not even sure if that ever happened or merely being an imagination, an altered memory. 

His apartment was small but that was okay, he didn’t need a living room and only having a tiny shower made being short less tragic.

While Hongjoong lived up to the cliche of being a poor artist, at least he did not need too much space.

His gaze went over the sketches still scattered over the kitchen table, picking one up: “Guess, you aren’t it either, sorry.” Unlike that awful woman, he carefully formed a small pile and put it in a paper tray for all his rejected designs, so far it had been every single one he offered to them. 

Maybe it was time to give up…

No, this was not the time to cry and get sad! Urgh, hard enough to admit he had been such a crybaby when moving here, the way how his heart ached and he was lost among strangers. It was when he started smoking again, something he stopped years ago but now.

There was nobody who would complain about the smell.

Hongjoong slipped into the shower, running water always helped to wash away thoughts, he just imagined it as he carefully cleaned every inch before enjoying the feeling of a fresh pair of clothes and ruffling his hair with a towel. 

“Attempt number seven it is,” he sat down, pulling over his tablet when a loud ringing sound interrupted the early hours of the night, enough to make him jump.

“The fuck?!” Hongjoong blinked, looking around but he was sure he didn’t even own an old-fashioned alarm clock. As the sound wouldn’t stop, he rushed to the window, lurking out only to realize it must be coming from your place. Why would you have an alarm clock going off at nine?!

Nobody else seemed to be interrupted by it but Hongjoong and he was working best at night. As nothing happened, he figured you probably just forgot to turn it off before leaving, how reckless to leave your window open in New York!

There was clear hesitation before he climbed out of his window, taking down the stairs: “Screw this…”

Your window was wide open, the curtains softly floating outside, all lights on. Your place was just a little bigger than his but you surely put more effort in! The walls were painted in a comfortable olive green, plants matched perfectly with the white furniture and there was a large gaming setup he did not really expect but then, what did he know about you? The bed was covered with far too many pillows but there it was, the one causing so much trouble.

The alarm clock had the shape of a flower, it was cute and he wondered how somebody who liked such a style would move to this part of the city…

“What do I do?” Hongjoong looked around. He counted to one hundred. There was nobody in sight, the sound drove him insane and he did not want you to get back home just to find your expensive equipment stolen. The world was an asshole to him but he intended to be better.

He swallowed and slipped inside your home, quick steps leading to the damn noisy item to turn it off. At that moment, the bathroom door opened and you walked inside, holding likely a few bottles of soap you just switched out, your gazes met and he could see how your face turned red, just like his own, and the next second, there was a small scream and you started to throw shampoo bottles at him.

Hongjoong tried to dodge them, dropping the alarm clock in the attempt and grabbed one of your pillows to protect himself.

“Hold on! Stop throwing things at me”, he called out but now you seemed angry.

“Why would I do this?! You just broke into my apartment! A thief? Gosh, you are one of those perverts, aren’t you?” You were one burst of energy, he had to give you that. Hongjoong was about to say something when he fell backward over another pillow.

His hands lifted up into the air, praying you’d not murder him with hair conditioner: “Hold on, hold on. I live above you! Your alarm wouldn’t stop and I thought you left so I meant to close the window, lots of robberies in this neighborhood!”

While your face remained distrustful, you held your movement in the middle of the air, frowning, doubting.

“Which neighbor breaks into a place to turn off an alarm bell?” you questioned and that was a good question. Who would have done that? 

“Well, I actually work at night, I need a little bit of silence but how am I supposed to do this with that noise?” he pointed at the alarm once more and this time, you considered his words.

“Fine, let’s say it is the truth. It’s still weird, you could have used the staircase and just knocked on the door like any other angry neighbor would.”

That was… a very good point. 

“I should have done that,” he admitted and slowly stood again. You were looking at him, maybe considering how he barely looked like a threat, considering he was wearing pajama pants and a hoodie with a washed-out brand name.

“Alright, I will forget about it. Now get out!” you pointed towards the window and Hongjoong found himself blushing in embarrassment. he clapped his hands, bowing slightly: “I promise to knock next time.”

As you hurried over, you wondered if he had seen right and there was a small smile on your lips as he carefully slipped out. As he turned around on the fire escape, you closed the window, and your gazes met for a moment, he was giving you a tiny wave before you rolled your eyes and closed your curtains.

Hongjoong stood there, blinking for a moment until he sighed and made his way upstairs, just to be greeted with the wind likely having shut his own, forcing him to go all the way down like that and up to his apartment. Thankfully he didn’t lock the door yet when he came home earlier.

“Tch, such a reckless neighbor,” he smiled.

“Oh? Oh! This is new!” Wooyoung fished the box with flower-shaped chocolate out of the paper bag. Hongjoong made a face, trying to snatch it but the younger grinned, holding it up.

“They are also kind of expensive, do you have a crush?” It took some effort but eventually, he stole his box bag and gave it to San who was scanning them.

“I am not in love, I just kind of pissed off one of my neighbors and now I intend to make it up somehow since they live in the apartment right underneath me,” he put quite a bit of effort in leaving out as many details as possible because Wooyoung would be curious enough to just knock on your window to see himself.

“Right, you said somebody moved into the empty apartment? Took some time, you mentioned that it was already without a tenant when you moved in.”

He appreciated the cashier was offering some distraction to his best friend’s consideration of just going with Hongjoong, he did not need to say it out loud for the older to guess as much.

“Ah yeah, the landlord was surprised when he offered that one but I asked about the rooftop apartment instead. I just like the peace and quiet, nobody above me, all that,” he mumbled, rubbing a hand over his neck.

“The Lone artist above the rooftops of New York City, romantic if you asked me,” Wooyoung winked and grabbed his backpack. “Anyway, time for training, call you later San!” He waved and rushed off, the other just smiled before handing the grocery bag to Hongjoong.

“I am sure the person knows to appreciate it, this is the first time I have seen you try and … well, mention to interact with anyone outside of this store.” 

Hongjoong tried his best not to swallow hard. While San only was having a casual conversation, he called out something that the artist had tried to avoid admitting: he had dodged everyone and everything ever since coming here.

The hurt was still too deep, the way the person closest to him, he smiled at and kissed every day, threw him away like trash and everyone else saying he should understand how it certainly wasn’t an easy life rather than taking his side

or just offer comfort.

He could have used a hug.

Now, it was hard to let anyone in. San and Wooyoung were nice but they just were two guys working at a grocery store that was conveniently close to his apartment, as kind as they seemed. 

“I just really like living here, sure, the neighborhood’s a bit … tense at times but otherwise, the rent is really cheap and the place is great to work at, not much noise considering we are in a city of this size.” 

San was looking at you, it was hard to tell if he took it or simply decided to keep his thoughts to himself but he smiled: “Well, just make sure to also enjoy the city, not only busy yourself with work. I know, artists are said to do that but yeah.”

It was as if he wanted to say more but Hongjoong already waved in tiny, grabbing his bag: “Speaking of that, I have a deadline so I better be going. Thanks again.”

Hongjoong was out the moment after, he could not hear San’s deep sigh when the bell rang once more.

He spent a good amount of time drawing a little doodle that looked like your alarm clock, looking upset and cursing about that weird guy in a little thought bubble. Next to it, Hongjoong wrote, "Sorry for having broken into your place, heard this chocolate is great." He was pleased with the result and carefully stepped outside his window, placing the little delivery right by your window, knocking against the glass, and he rushed upstairs, jumping into his own home as he waited for the noise of you opening.

His heart was beating loudly when he lurked around the corner, hearing you sigh but in a pleasant way. He did not dare to fully look, biting your lip but after a very long minute, he could hear your voice: "Just knock next time you want to say hello."

Your laugh was so soft and cute.

He grinned when the window was shut a moment later and the chocolate was gone.

Hongjoong had a talent for forgetting about time when he was working and it was less about the deadline and more so about his passion. He always loved to draw, it had been his escape from a young age and he pushed through it, no matter the concerns of everyone around him. He never wanted to be rich, just do what he loved and make enough to be able to live from it.

In a way he did, his old apartment was small but nice with a lovely view and enough space for two. Looking back, he had been a fool how he thought that his ex would enjoy it, that she liked they took their time and both added to a dream of a larger home. The series he illustrated with a few other artists for a children's magazine was doing well then, he knew it was one of the favorites in consideration of being further produced with another spin-off when it happened, Hongjoong quit.

Just like most, he also worked digitally but when he was in the early stages, he often liked to reach out for old-fashioned paper, getting a few sketches done. It was when his pencil rolled from the table that he pulled the chunky headphones from his ears to pick it up when he heard it for the first time.

It was a quiet sob, the kind where you hated yourself and just wanted to stop but your body was boycotting you, ignoring your quiet pleas for it to stop. Hongjoong had done the same for a while after coming to New York but somehow, yours hit him more than he expected. The way you faced him when he came in, the conversation after.

He should know better than assuming you were a confident person just doing your thing.

His slim figure pressed against the wall next to the open window when he listened to how you cried.

It was strange, when the heart ached, even a city like this could fall in utter silence, making one feel even more alone. He bit his lip, it was hard to listen to it and when he finally convinced himself that checking on you was more important than his fear of interrupting, the small clicking sound to pull his window fully open seemed to be enough to chase you inside like a bird fleeing from busy human steps.

All Hongjoong managed to see was the way how your lights turned off and for a moment, he wondered if you maybe prayed that he did not come down to see, that the weird guy above you just opened his window to let him some refreshing air in at the end of Summer.

He was trying to recall all of those nights after you moved in, where he kept his window open and so did you. What did he hear then? There had been that clicking sound, he could hear it any time he ended up sneaking up to the roof to smoke a cigarette. He never put much thought into it but now, you always seemed to be typing on your keyboard and you were home all the time, just like he was.

When he returned from groceries, your lights were on, and when he lurked outside in the morning, the window open.

In a movie, he probably would have thought more about it and told himself to see if it would happen again. Maybe you just had a bad day. Maybe you were just going through a hard breakup.

Just.

Maybe, if anyone had been more gentle with Hongjoong, he'd not have felt the need to move far away in a desperate attempt of moving on.

No, things would have been different if people would have acted and wasted less time guessing.

"Screw this," he cursed and walked over to the mirror. He was trying to fix his hair but it was a mess so he grabbed a hoodie and put on some summer shorts, cigarettes shoved inside of his pockets, two bottles of soda in each hand.

If you thought he was insane after this, he could live with it, really. He preferred it above having to regret wondering what happened tonight.

Hongjoong took two stairs at once until he was in front of your windows, curtains closed and while it was dark, he could see a small gleam of light, likely from your phone. He took a deep breath before knocking again.

"Hi there, it's me. Again... Uh I am Hongjoong! I know I am probably starting to get annoying, and if you decide to not answer, please just do not call the police.... I was just thinking, maybe you want to have a soda with me? I can't slepe either, I tend to work through the night.

He rambled because this was how he found comfort, he did not need to hear specific words, just little affirmation, a gesture of love. It could be something silly.

When you did not answer, he bit his lip and looked around: "Uh, I will sit down here and smoke one cigarette. If you decide not to come when it's done, I promise I go back up. I'll leave you one bottle there."

He called, placed it down carefully, and moved over to the stairs, taking a few up before sitting down, opening his own drink before lightening the cigarette.

He was exhaling only for the first time when the window opened: "You know, smoking is super unhealthy?"

Your voice did not indicate that you were crying but he could see your eyes still being red and puffy. Hongjoong looked at you like you were amazing just like that.

"You are right, I admit, I only picked the habit up recently again."

He blinked surprised when you grabbed the bottle and sat down by his side, just to take the cigarette away and inhale the smoke. He was blushing, not having expected such a bold move after you cried.

"Guess, we can make it a bad habit just for tonight then," you breathed and used the stairs to open the bottle, drinking it more like it was a party drink rather than ordinary soda, offering the cigarette back.

Hongjoong was in awe, he did not assume you would be so outgoing, although he had no doubt you were brave considering the way you two encountered face to face for the first time. The thought let him grin a little: "Sounds good to me."

His gaze wandered back over the not-that-pretty view: "The sight from the roof is pretty amazing, not sure if you maybe want to have a look another night. I can show you how to get up there."

You laughed, relaxing back: "Why am I not surprised you went up there?"

The man looked innocently: "Well, I have a lot of time to think when I am settling for a design."

The word seemed to gain your interest and you leaned in: "You work at night and that doodle was really cute. Is it something artistic you are doing for a living?" The question was fair and straightforward, leading him to shrug just a little. Most people were disappointed about the answer, somehow it did not seem to be a popular idea when it came to art.

"I work as an illustrator for children's books or that is the preferred one, I also do magazines or commercial designs for such. As for books, I do both, the traditional ones for young kids where the images carry most of the story but I also occasionally take scenes from books for older audiences, you know, mainly those right before young adults where you find little images between the chapters? Mh, I dream to make one exactly in the design I want but for now, I am stuck to work with criteria set by the publishers."

Hongjoong learned to explain what he was doing right away because when it came to illustrations, people often thought about the really expensive artworks connected to infamous titles. You did not really seem to bother with the clichés, instead, your face was so bright and excited, that he was feeling shy.

"That's so cool? I only got into reading because of those kinds of books. I mean, I get it, you are supposed to go wild with your imagination when it comes to reading but I always preferred those pages that told me what to expect but that makes sense, I'm a number person. I like facts."

Numbers, huh.

"This is the very infamous part where I offer to you that if you ever want to see something, knock on my window any time or well, I guess. You have all the right to just walk in through my window. I am awful and my phone is my alarm clock tho," he teased with a more confident grin and you returned it gladly.

"I will keep it in mind, Hongjoong." You stretched.

"It's getting late and you wasted your cigarette, I will take that as a sign to withdraw," you smiled and picked up your bottle, standing. The artist was a little disappointed but it was fair, he knew it had been far after midnight when he heard you crying but now, he was happy to see you relaxed.

"Maybe I will come back to your offer," you hummed and walked down to your window. "Oh, by the way, I am __ and don't be too disappointed, I am a software engineer. That is also why I am home all the time, the bliss of being able to dodge offices but I feel, that you know well."

As you slipped inside, you were about to close the window before lurking out again: "The chocolate was tasty, thank you."

As the window shut, Hongjoong stood there, smiling to himself.

He didn't remember ever having felt as tense in the past when handing in drafts. His old publisher had been a guy in his early 60s and even in the early stages of Hongjoong's 'career', supporting them to test their own ideas within the limits of the work. Something about getting a poor payment but at least, being able to do their thing.

There was yet a small voice of hope, one that told him this piece of paper would not be torn apart because the woman was looking at it far longer than she had at any other of his earlier designs. After hanging out with you, Hongjoong had worked nonstop, a new adrenaline rush that helped him get done with it.

Finally, he exhaled when she leaned back, placing it on the desk: "Finally, something we can work at. I approve of the cats, I expect a more detailed version at the end of the week. The dogs are too ... basic. There is just nothing memorable about them, I want two pairs of options for them. That would be all, Mister Kim."

Hongjoong could live with that! The cats were the story's main protagonists about a pair of cat siblings moving with their owners to a new city and dealing with all of the changes. Yeah, maybe it did not seem like a deep story, just another book to offer comfort to kids moving but the name on both, the writer and label were big... opening doors. What else did he have left than his career and maybe, the nagging desire to show everyone how he could do it?

I would rather be happy tho, and loved.

He only gave her a quick nod as she seemed busy again, slipping out of the office. "Why is this such a pain...." he mumbled and checked his phone. Would it be weird or too early to ask you for your number? Hongjoong hadn't given it to anyone, well except San because he got permission to use the convenience store as a secondary address, should packages fail to be delivered to his door.

Hongjoong could not deny that he was tempted to look you up online but he did not log into any of his accounts since coming to New York. If anything... he did not even tell anyone. He just sold everything, quit his job, and moved. The only person who knew was his older brother, who had been supportive unlike the rest of the family but accepted his wish to remain hidden for some time.

"Honjgoong!"

Hearing his name out in the open made him wince and he blushed when he noticed it was you who called out for him. You were smiling, waving confidently, ignoring gazes. Maybe you really just had a tough day last night. It was so hard to imagine you being somebody who cried a lot.

"Seeing you out in the wild, I am scared," he teased with a grin, walking to your side. You pointed at the heavy bags with groceries, making him realize what you wanted.

"I see how it is, somebody asking me to make the stairs my workout," he chuckled as you looked innocently. "How about, we call it quits then, for good? And in return, you can use the fire escape as often as you want, no worries. You did start to avoid doing that because of me, didn't you?"

He was surprised by the question: "Uh... how do you know about that?"

You laughed and it was sweet, he preferred seeing you happy: "Well, when I signed the contract, the owner told me the guy above likes to take them so he advised me to put something in front of the window but then, nobody ever came."

It was your way to tell him you appreciated he tried to think of your comfort, wasn't it?

"If you are sure, I rather like walking them. I got one of those window locks, I found them on a website and they are really handy. I just prefer it because the dog from the lady on the third floor, he hates me," he admitted.

It seemed to amuse you: "Not surprised, you remind me of a cat or maybe more of a fox? Mh, I love them equally, pick the one you prefer." You rushed ahead while he took the bags, rubbing a hand over his face. Ah, it was a talent of yours, wasn't it? Making him blush.

Thankfully, it wasn't too far from the building and Hongjoong got up all the bags in no time.

"Do you want to come in?" your offer showed a hint of hesitation and Hongjoong was overworrying again. Would it be strange to accept it? Was he too keen on showing how he really would like it?

"Sure, I have some time until nightfall. I have to update some of the designs, they finally accepted two of them," he made sure not to stare, not only to be polite but he already had seen your apartment when he broke in last time.

You opened the fridge and offered him a bottle of cool water, one he gladly accepted. "You said, you do like computer things... Don't mind me, I do not know a whole lot about it. I admit, when I was here last time, I thought you might be a gamer."

His Ex used to watch Twitch streams, something about finding them relaxing.

He regretted the question the instant he asked because of how your expressions slipped.

"Ah, you could say I used to enjoy gaming? It was something I did with a ... former friend." The way you reacted hinted likely it must have been a really good friend, or why else would you look so hurt about saying such a thing` Friendships ended so often, yet this one must have meant a lot to you.

Hongjoong tried not to read too much into your expressions, he did not know you well enough to have a right of doing so, likely just misreading it.

"I am sorry to hear. My friends and family weren't always so keen on my obsession with working for book illustrations either. I would not say they meant to tell me to instead work a proper job but they thought, I should just work for some big company that needs them for ads and such but that is just so soulless, you know?"

His confession was too honest but he felt comfortable with you, sharing it. Maybe it really was because you were strangers and you did not know him or his past, you wouldn't judge him based on that.

He prayed you'd not. You seemed to think about it before saying with the kindest smile: "Following your dreams is important, Hongjoong. I get that, families always mean well but sometimes, we have to figure things out on our own."

He was too nervous to offer a good answer.

"Anyway!" the quick smile was forced but he accepted it. "You said, you know how to get up on the roof? I was thinking, we could do it tonight? It sounds silly but there will be a star shower... I do not think we can see it in a city like this but we can pretend to! I shopped for some snacks, we can make it our own little event."

Hongjoong blinked, eyes big when you invited him: "Oh! Sure! I can make some time, just knock on my window!" He did not have the time based on the deadline... but he would get it done for you! Sounded like time to fight the habit of sleeping in and work during sunlight hours for a change.

"Awesome, I'm excited then!"

There was not too much else to be said it seemed, your thoughts clearly elsewhere, and Hongjoong could only guess it was because of your friend.

The illustrator spent an hour trying to pick an outfit. Tanktop, skinny jeans, some jewelry, he even picked a barret he hadn't worn in ages but it seemed the best way to deal with his hair, even his nails were repainted before he climbed up and prepared a small cozy corner, a blanket, two pillows and a few LED candles.

By the time you knocked on his window, he was almost terrified he made it look too much like a date but then, he looked at you and it seemed, you had a similar mindset. You looked stunning, and the backpack hinted you got more than a few snacks.

"You look amazing," Hongjoong complimented, he liked your style. "Sush, you sure you aren't a model and just failed to tell me?" You brought up the cliche line but it made him laugh: "Well, I tried."

As he joined you, he led you up the stairs which ended abruptly. "If you pull here, there is actually a hidden ladder," he explained and showed it to you. "Very handy, and you can simply pull it up from up there so nobody sees it."

You seemed amazed just how simple it was and carefully climbed up first.

"Oh Hongjoong, this is so pretty!" you gasped, looking at his little setup. The sun vanished just a little while ago and the candles created a nice atmosphere.

"Well, how often does one get invited to star gazing at my age? I thought it would be nice," he explained, chewing his lip as he helped you take off the backpack.

"Well, I guess it is good then I brought an entire picnic!" Indeed, you did but it wasn't just snacks, you prepared the meal obviously yourself and it made him wonder. Did anyone other than his mother ever do this for him?

"This looks delicious!" he clapped his hands together, looking over it.

"Mh, I cannot promise the taste can live up to the looks because it has been a while since I made most of these dishes," you admitted and offered him a pair of chopsticks but he shook his head: "It already smells great, and nothing can betray that."

You seemed to enjoy how expressive Hongjoong was in showing just how much he loved your cooking. His face did not manage to hide it but it was to no surprise, not only because it was tasty but because he had been living off ramyun for the past couple of months due to his cut salary.

"This is so good, I will vote for you as home cook of the year," he mumbled between trying to chew and swallowing.

"Hongjoong, are you sure you ate in the past month or two? You are eating like you were about to starve," you smiled but there was a little concern in your voice as you ate slowly.

The artist carefully placed his chopsticks aside, contemplating if it was okay to be so honest but since he already shared quite a bit with you, it seemed fair.

"To be honest, I came here a little unplanned. I got this really amazing deal or it sounded like that but the publisher CEO lady has rejected all of my designs of the past few months and they cut my salary in half every time. I get around with some savings but food wasn't on top of my priority list."

Now you did seem concerned and sighed: "You know what? She is stupid! I looked up your work and it's so cute? I mean it! I know nothing about that business branch but I like it, they are cute and as a kid, I'd have loved them but also... I used to share a place with somebody and I have a hard time getting rid of the habit of cooking more than I need. How about you come over here and then, and pick up the rest? I hate to throw away so much."

Did you look him up? Oh, that was unexpected. Hongjoong was just looking at you in awe and you seemed a little confused by it.

"You do not have to, of course!" It seemed you both were good at misreading.

He hurried to wave his hands: "Oh no! I'd love that! I just... was a little shy when you looked it up. I appreciate it. If you ever need a doodle or like ... anything drawn, let me know. I like doing it for people."

As he looked at you somehow, it felt like you two were the same. Something happened which brought you here, leaving behind a very different life but now that you sat in front of him like that, Hongjoong was so grateful and he tried to place the meaning of his heart beating just a little too enthusiastically right now.

"You know, when I was in high school, I was befriended with this really amazing guy, Hwa. He moved away with his parents before graduation but after exams, when we both knew we screwed up really badly. He would drag me up to the rooftop of our school and play silly songs from the early 2000s we danced to. I know that sounds insane but how about... we do that?"

Hongjoong didn't think about Seonghwa in a long time. He tried to find him online a few years ago but it seemed the older did not think too much about social media either.

"You want to dance?" you chuckled and checked your phone: "Well, I'd say we have another hour until the promised star shower so let's do it. You will have to provide the music tho, I forgot to close my Spotify on my computer."

Hongjoong grinned: "No worries, I got us."

It was funny but he remembered the song and there was an entire playlist dedicated to the vibe he wanted to go for. Relaxed and soft, a little silly but not embarrassing. He ensured the volume wouldn't cause too much attention but you did not seem to care at all.

When the melody and the lyrics began you just let go. Hongjoong swallowed as he watched you and for the first time in a long time, suddenly he was feeling... excited? It was different from a grand job offer or moving, it was more like that telling himself life would go on actually was real. That good things still would happen if he just kept on going.

"What are you waiting for? Don't tell me you are getting shy now," you moved closer to him, taking his hands without hesitation before starting to dance together. The shuffle was doing a good job because it went from energetic, leading to the two of you just silly jumping and vibing to something a little slower and before he knew it, his arms were curled around your figure and you rested your head against his shoulder as you moved with the music.

"This is nice," you whispered, your gaze seemed to be far off in the distance. "I forgot how nice it can be just like that." You sighed deeply without saying anything else but Hongjoong quietly agreed as his hug tightened a little. "It really is."

It was only when your phone started to ring and you withdrew that he was a little disappointed. "Okay, time for the stars!" you smiled, looking around before glancing back at the blanket. "Let's do it like we are in the countryside!"

Without hesitation, you grabbed a pillow and laid down, looking up to the sky which was just dark, the light of electricity stealing the beauty of the night. Hongjoong laid down next to you, looking up.

"Isn't this the most beautiful night sky you have ever seen?" you gasped, pointing towards nothing: "There they are! Okay, time to make your wish but remember, you can't tell anyone!"

You were so bright and outgoing, Hongjoong envied you but also quietly was thankful how you tickled this out of him again. Even before his breakup, he had been so busy struggling with work and expectations, when did he act so carefree for the last time?

"Working on the wish," he whispered and closed his eyes.

His wish for life never changed: be happy, together with people who truly loved and cherished him and he'd do the same for them.

He winced when he felt your cool hand reaching out, squeezing him and his head turned around, the beret slipped from his hair as your gazes locked. There was another moment of hesitation but you rolled onto your side, your eyes saying what words did not manage but they did not need to as you slowly closed them. Hongjoong's hand was placed on your cheek and you met in the middle into a tender kiss.

It was nothing breathtaking like in the movies, much more a kiss between students who never kissed before but yet, were so lost in the moment that they didn't worry. It only lasted for a little before your lips parted: "Guess, my wish already came true just now."

Hongjoong blushed, he wanted to say more but there was a small quacking sound. The two of you sat up immediately.

"Did you hear that?" you whispered. Hongjoong nodded: "Nobody ever comes up here and I come here almost every day since I moved in." You exchanged a few gazes before carefully standing up, following him closely, hiding behind the chimney.

Suddenly, a large figure dressed all in black jumped up like a ninja in a movie. You gasped but Hongjoong just blinked.

"Wooyoung?!"

"Wooyoung?"

"Wooyoung!"

San's figure showed up right behind his best friend, who was tugging on his jacket, clearly catching his breath. "I told you not to do this!" The younger man was just grinning: "But I had to make sure I left an impression!"

You chuckled as Hongjoong pointed to you that it was okay.

"I take it those are your friends?"

The word made Hongjoong blink. He saw these two idiots almost on a daily base now, he talked to them and while he never shared any personal details, they never treated him like other customers or a stranger.

He really did a great job on distancing, didn't he? Considering he claimed to have nobody but just made friends without realizing it.

"Something like that," Hongjoong said with a quick smile but Wooyoung already pulled him closer, pressing his cheek against his. "Sh, he is just shy! We are the best buddies!"

Hongjoong yelped and now was sparring with Wooyoung while San rubbed a hand over the back of his neck: "Sorry, we didn't mean to interrupt your date. Wooyoung has a hard time keeping his curiosity in check."

You hummed, knowing Hongjoong didn't hear it. Maybe it was for the better.

"That's okay. Actually, that's what I like about him. He's chaotic, just like me."

You clasped your hands together, cheering. "So Wooyoung! We got some food left, are you hungry?"

The younger stopped, grinning: "Always!"

Hongjoong groaned when he was woken up by loud noises coming from the staircase. He rolled onto his side, face lit up by his phone screen. It wasn't even seven but for some reason, it seemed neighbors decided to make a fuss. There was screaming, he was sure about that.

He grabbed a pair of sneakers, not caring too much about all else and decided to have a look because it seemed a little too loud considering you and an elderly woman lived the floor underneath.

The moment he recognized your voice, Hongjoong stopped all logical thinking, he took two stairs at once to face a very upstyled woman around his age. Expensive brands and overdone makeup, there was an envelope open, torn paper on the ground, and you were all in tears.

"What's going on?!" Hongjoong rushed to your side but you barely seemed to recognize him.

"How did you even find out where I live?! I won't sign this just go!" you yelled and it seemed to make the woman just more angry.

"___, stop being so stubborn! Just sign the damn rights! You are not part of the team anymore, you have no use for the brand name! Just sign it and we never have to meet again!"

By now, more neighbors had come and the least Hongjoong wanted for you was to deal with the police.

"Hey, get in. I will take care of it," he whispered to you, both of his hands on your cheeks to force you to look at him through teary eyes. It was when you finally realized you weren't alone, you swallowed hard, nodded but carefully withdrew. When the woman tried to get in, Hongjoong pushed her back.

"If you do not leave now, we will call the police! If you have any needs, use a lawyer!" he remembered how his mother watched those shows when he was little, they always just yelled about lawyers.

"Who are you? Loverboy? God, how can one person fall so low? Living in this shithole and now this?" she hissed, spitting on the ground before leaving. Hongjoong waited to ensure she'd not get back up before he slipped inside, closing your door.

You had curled up on your bed and he was a little overwhelmed but it did not matter. Hongjoong called out your name gently as he sat down on the edge of the bed, wanting to make sure you knew he was there, maybe his way of asking for permission.

When you did not move, he curled his arms around you to pull you tight like back on the rooftop, hand gently patting over your back. He wasn't going to tell you it would be okay or ask you to stop crying because he knew that sometimes, mind or body did not want to, couldn't.

All one needed sometimes, was a hug and somebody there with you.

It was hard to say just how much time passed when you turned around slowly. Hongjoong loosened the hug a little without moving back and you looked at him.

"You do not have to tell me anything," he assured in his soft voice but you shook your head slowly. "I want to... it just... it's embarrassing."

This time, it was he who shook his head: "Nothing that makes you feel sad ever is embarrassing, ___. Your feelings matter, you know?"

He was relieved to see it brought a little smile to your lips.

"You know, that also is true for you. If you are sad... it's okay. I understand it. Please don't feel like you have to hide it."

So you did look right through him after all: "You got me there... It is hard to admit weakness... I guess, for me at least. I was hurt by the people I cared for the most. Now, it is hard, like how to let them in again, how to trust?"

Your fingers gently reached out, brushing over his cheeks and he held still like if he moved, you might vanish into thin air.

"I get that," you admitted. "You see, that woman used to be my best friend since middle school. A few years ago, we started to stream together for fun. I made good money with my job, so I bought the equipment and I really was okay playing more of a background role. We worked on it together but she was the star, I didn't mind she also streamed a lot without me but then, numbers rose and there was a sponsorship she did not tell me about. One day, I got home from my office, and all the equipment was gone, together with my best friend. I was locked out of the accounts, the savings I kept at home for emergencies were stolen, and well. She spread some nasty rumors about how I was jealous and things got ugly... So I moved here. It is hard, your best friend is usually the person you rely on for comfort when something awful happens but now, there was nobody and I am stupid, the type of person that fully believes in a friendship."

It was sad, to think how money always ruined everything, love and friendship. Hongjoong watched you as you spoke, going more into the details and he made sure to listen well, to show you that he didn't only do it because you two kissed or because of you crying. He really cared about you and wanted to understand you better so he did not have to fear again, that imagine of you alone on the fire escape.

"There is nothing awkward or embarrassing about your feelings. You trusted and lost her. You tried your best to start over, leave it behind but she cannot let it be for selfish reasons," Hongjoong concluded and you finally relaxed.

"Thank you for listening.... that really helped," you whispered. "I... if you ever want to..."

Hongjoong wondered for a moment. Did he want to talk about it?

Yes, but...

"Honestly, I am not sure if I am really ready yet to talk about it but one day... I will," he promised and placed a gentle kiss on top of your head.

"How about I make you some tea?" he offered with a smile as you looked at him, you nodded and you two slowly sat up. Hongjoong was very determined to wrap you properly in a blanket burrito, ruffling your hair gently before moving over to your kitchen. He could feel your eyes on him as he moved but he did not mind it.

A few minutes later, he handed you a cup of yasmin tea and you hugged it carefully, sipping on it.

"You make a very cute blanket cat," he teased, hoping to cheer you up. "Maybe one day, you will let me draw you like that." And finally, there it was, your beautiful laugh. "I will think about it."

Hongjoong sat down by your side, he turned on the TV and you relaxed against him as you watched a random show just to get your mind off and sipped your tea. It wasn't until there was a more gentle knock on the door and the familiar voice of the elderly lady.

"I will get it," he offered and rushed over. She seemed a little concerned: "My, so much noise in the early morning. Such an unpleasant woman. I wanted to see if everything is alright but I also noted, that your door is wide open Mister Kim."

His cheeks flushed as he realized, he rushed out earlier without bringing his key or closing it. "OH! Yes, thank you so much," he bowed and it made her chuckle: "You are very welcome. Fear not, Mister Corner on the second floor left his dog outside, I have no doubt nobody will dare to make the way upstairs today."

As she wiggled away, Hongjoong turned around but you smiled. "It is okay, I am feeling better. Thank you for looking out for me. I will see you later?"

He did not want to go but it likely was a good idea to give you some space. "Count on it."

As much as he hated it, he needed to put some time into work if he intended to finish everything within the deadline but now that Hongjoong had a reason to work extra hard, he was doing it no problem and within a few hours, he finished a few sketches. Those would do for angry CEO and he could dedicate his evening toward you.

He was taking his phone from his charger when he noticed a small notification. Hongjoong turned off such with the exception of receiving one when somebody new followed him. To his surprise, the name of his latest follower was 'Hwastar' and there was only one person who would use something like that.

It took him a few minutes to remember his password, he ignored all other messages other than the one of the follow and he followed back. Within a few minutes, a message popped up. It really was Seonghwa and to Hongjoong's surprise, the man was in New York, asking to meet.

When Hongjoong knocked on your door and you did not answer, he guessed you were asleep and he decided to go for it. Seonghwa had picked a cute coffee shop, something that suited him. While he looked the same, he was yet a whole new man. Tall, well-built and stylish, the long hair suited him well but the smile was as gentle as when they saw each other for the last time. "Joong! It's been too long!"

There was a quick hug before they sat down, he was sipping on a drink. "You look good, Joongie!" Hongjoong glanced down, he barely could say he wore anything unique but then, he just really had gotten used to his style. "Not like you who seems to go to fashion week."

Seonghwa blushed a little before waving his hand: "Nah, I work for a small publisher." Hongjoong wasn't surprised to hear it. Seonghwa always loved to read and was great with all kinds of people "That's great! I am glad it worked out for you."

His old friend smiled before to the younger's surprise, he pulled out one of the children's books Hongjoong worked on as part of a team.

"I only recently moved to New York because we moved our office here. When I walked through some bookstores, I came across this one. I am glad to see you still do art... When I went home last time, my mom said you left and nobody really knew where you went."

So he did hear about it, huh?

"Breakups can be ugly, I guess I wanted to start over." Hongjoong finally said what he had not to anyone until now. It was hard to say it out loud because that way, there was no chance to deny it, to hide the truth about the why, and how it had come to this. Maybe because there was this old trust he had for Hwa that made him say it out loud now but it was impossible to hide the bitterness in his voice.

Seonghwa had an understanding, sad smile on his lips: "I know you loved her. You two already dated back then... but Hongjoong... I am also proud you are moving on, and didn't stop."

It really was difficult to let negative emotions take over when Seonghwa looked at him like that. He pulled out his business card: "I know you are currently working with a bigger name but we actually finally expanded to books that require some illustrations and my boss would love to meet you. Why don't you think about it? The offer is there, no expiration, whenever you want."

Hongjoong accepted it with surprise, looking at the cursive font he was sure was inspired by his friend's handwriting.

How did things finally fall in line? Was it because he was ready to let them?

Hongjoong looked up and smiled: "I will definitely call."

When he came back, it had gotten dark. As Hongjoong took the fire escape up, your window was wide open and you sat on the stairs, the wind playing with your hair and you seemed lost in thoughts but the moment you saw him, the way you smiled, he knew.

His heart finally exhaled, it held its breath for so long, scared of what would happen if it let go of all that was and no longer would be.

Now it knew it was okay. Breathing would hurt for a little while but eventually, the beat would fall back in line as it should. Painful memories remained but it would keep beating.

The wisdom wasn't wrong, life went on.

Hongjoong smiled back as you made space for him and he got comfortable, his gaze wandering over the cityscape of New York or the bit you managed to get from here.

"it really is ugly, isn't it? I mean, all we get to see are the lower side of those giant ass buildings;" you joked and he laughed, shaking his head: "No, we do not but we have the rooftop. Not that I mind this."

He closed his eyes: "It really is a great escape, I would say, we need those stairs everywhere in the world."

You hummed: "I agree. Just that we need little stickers on the windows, one that tells us that if the alarm won't go off and the windows open, just throw a shoe or something."

Hongjoong smiled innocently at you: "But how do I get my shoe back then?"

You grinned: "Well, by knocking, of course. Then, I have an excuse to invite you in."

You did not need an excuse, he gladly would come and visit you. As you looked at each other, a certain silence spread, and Hongjoong played with one of his bracelets.

"I got my heart broken very badly," he admitted. "I guess, I was blind? Maybe I just was so in a habit of having it that way, that I did not think it could change? It hurt a lot and I ran like a coward but now, maybe this is just how I am. Sometimes, I do stupid things that turn out to be good but I am also blind like needing forever to realize how I made friends just by being myself or that I can feel again."

As he looked at you, turning around, you suddenly hugged him tightly. "It is okay, you do not have to tell me everything, ever or just take your time. I will be here, whenever you are ready," you whispered and Hongjoong was surprised.

Argh, he hated how tears started to dwell up at the corners of his eyes. This was all he wanted for so long but now, here you were and you were so much more than comfort, the promise of a future where his heart was beating not only to live but love. Again.

"I really like you," he admitted, voice soft and husky. "I like you too," you repeated and for a moment, you just held each other.

Hongjoong looked at you before he swallowed: "I'd like to see where it goes... but I might... need a bit of time before I am ready to go all ..."

You placed an index finger on his lips and smiled: "It's okay. We have all the time in the world. Summer is not over yet, many nights on the rooftops. Then, when autumn comes, we go chase leaves in Central Park, and in Winter, we can wear big fluffy coats and share a scarf. Then Spring, we plant flowers on the rooftop, and when Summer comes again. We will be here, together. Close or as friends, I will be here, count on it."

You really were so dreamy, it made sense now why your room looked the way it did.

And he loved how you were bold and silly and this.

"I cannot promise not to be spontaneous, and I might would like us to be more than friends," he admitted and you smirked: "I love random and wild."

You squeezed his hand and Hongjoong was looking forward to all seasons. In this lonely city full of people but now he had friends, old and new but most of all, you.

As you leaned in to kiss him, your alarm was going off. Hongjoong groaned but you tugged on his jacket.

"Sh, you can throw shampoo at it later," you promised and Hongjoong laughed.

"This alarm, it drives me insane," he whispered, your lips so close.

"So do you."

In the best way possible.

[libertyybellls]

ONE FOR THE ROAD !

pairing; mentor!finnick x victor!reader

summary; you’ve been finnicks since the moment you met, after your interviews you break- who can fix you better than him?

contains; ANGST/FLUFF, two idiots in love, typical thg themes- i’m sure by now you know what i mean ;(

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

finnick watched you from behind the curtains of the stage, somewhere in a hallway with your face on the screen infront of you. watching you with your hand over your heart as you gushed about your faux-greatfulness to the capitol.

he watched your face drop as all of your kills were flashed onto the large screen, he watched the squint in your eyes, the way your brows furrowed, the way your jaw clenched. he pleaded now to you, through his mind- bury the hatchet sweet girl, don’t fall apart, you’ve made it this far.

his fingers were crossed his foot tapping anxiously until the milisecond your interview concluded.

your stylists crowded around the hallway, waiting to applaud you on how good you were- but finnick knew you better than anyone, he kept his distance.

your presence came with fury, tearing off your ridiculous headpiece- it falling to the ground in pieces with seconds. each step you took seemed to get angrier. your stylists behind you with a hand on their chest. something their dull minds couldn’t understand, how could she be so angry when it’s over with?

when you turned the corner and he saw you, when he saw the darkness in your eyes clouding your every move. desperate to be alone, to rot away- he twisted you around and into him.

you fought against him- struggling to release yourself from his hold. finnick only pulled you closer to him, with a tighter hold. “it’s okay, you’re okay.” he hushed into your ear, your arms softened. they found a home around his neck while your head hid away in his neck.

“no,” you only shook your head. how could he lie to you when you’re like this? “it’s not, it’s not fucking fair.”

he understand, if anyone- he understands. “i’m still me, you’re still you.” he said that and he wanted to believe it, wanted it to be true. thought maybe the cards would fall into the right lineup for him- to all be in his favor, but when had they ever been?

“no im not.” you didn’t believe him, and he couldn’t believe himself- maybe the two of you could build a city of lies in your heads.

you wanted to tell him what a monster you were, how awful you were-but he had to have already known .

he’d watched you be the most deceitful creature in the game, the most twisted, two fast creature. you’re sure he knew.

“yes you are princess, i know it’s bad but you’re safe, you’re with me.” finnicks voice always had this perfect serene pitch, even when you didn’t mean to- in a world of voices it would be the only thing you could focus on.

the tears cascaded down your face, black mascara indefinetly staining his white sweater.

he would never admit this out loud, it almost ate him up inside thinking it- and he would beat himself up for it for as long as he lived, but you were not the same- you never would be. but he could love you in any way you came.

you weren’t the same girl who would collect the seashells that reminded you of him and run up to his door with a basket full of them- you would never be the same girl who’s eyes would sparkle at the smallest conversation between you, him, and mags in her living room on a summer night. the same girl who’d laugh so hard that your stomach ached and you’d slap his shoulder.

you weren’t the same girl. and he knew that the moment your knife went for your allies neck, the way you screamed when the last cannon went off.

and you’d never say it, but you thought of him. every time someone would charge at you- desperate to hear the cannon. you thought about how all you needed to do was run home into his arm and scream at him for not letting you love him sooner.

and now, now he needed to think of you. think of your loving touch- your pure heart and the sound of your overjoyed laugh when he’d hug you too tight- or catch you off guard with a joke. he needed to think about brining all this anger- this hate, this disgust and guilt out of you- for he’d rather take it all on himself than watch it eat at you.

so he would hold you close when you woke up screaming, bathe you when your body was too tired to hold itself up, whisper sweetheart nothings into your ear as he cradles you back into a deep slumber.

-

a/n; very short, just wanted to get a lil angst out for u guys ;))

masterlist

INBOX OPEN!!

[starlessea2]

The Dawn Watch (Astarion)

Pairing: Astarion x Reader [Baldur's Gate 3]

Summary: As dawn breaks the morning after the tiefling party, you find a vampire basking in the sun. In the daylight, all of his pretty words start to unravel. (Act 1 spoilers).

A/N After a week of feverishly playing (and completing) BG3, here's my first Astarion writing. Part 1/3 of a WIP mini-series called the Sunlight Chronicles.

Masterlist

Sunlight was warm on your eyes. It coaxed them open and made you blink: once hard, twice fast. Your lids were heavy, yet you could hardly remember closing them in the first place. Neither could you recall dozing off in a pile of leaves. 

As you pressed yourself into the ground, the forest floor rustled beneath you. A cacophony of dried foliage and bark, made somewhat comfortable by the mossy overgrowth. It took you a moment to understand your surroundings.

The tiefling party had bustled on into the early hours. It was the first reprieve you’d allowed yourself since being plucked from Baldur’s Gate and thrust into this new adventure. But, perhaps you had overindulged… 

There was a fire in your belly still, laden with mead and lingerings of lust, and it had led you here: stark-naked and alone on the outskirts of camp. 

A chuckle sounded behind you. “I was starting to wonder whether I’d drank you dry.”

You sprung up to your elbows. Not alone, you suddenly remembered.

Your head whipped around, settling on the figure bathed in the light of the low sun. “But alas, you were just making good on that beauty sleep. Morning, pet.” 

Rubbing the bleariness from your eyes, you found Astarion. He was radiant. Rays of dawn had snuck through the trees, dappling between branches onto his pale skin. And his hair... Caught in that glow, it looked like leftover starlight. 

The only thing letting him down was his smile. It was utterly charming, as always. But it was more obvious in the daytime; that smile was well-practised.

“Umm, good morning,” you eventually croaked back.

Your eyes locked with Astarion's, too nervous to wander over his body. He noticed, of course, and so he paced before you—a small strut, hands on his hips to invite your appraisal.

You looked away. Even in the warmth of the sun, you could feel the man’s contribution to your cheeks. It incited a laugh from him. 

“Oh now don’t pretend to be coy, my sweet,” he said. “Not when there was hardly any of that last night.”

You turned your head; any liquid courage you’d gotten from the party had long since worn off. But now sober, Astarion made your heart ache. His falsity was clear as day. He uttered the words you so desperately wanted to hear, but delivered them on the back of a deceitful voice. 

A sigh escaped you; perhaps the only time he hadn’t lied was when he’d called you naive. 

Awaiting your reply, Astarion became indignant. "What?" he asked. "Disappointed at the lack of morning cuddle? If you ask nicely, perhaps I’ll come back to join—”

"No," you said. "I just..." His eyes watched your every move, red and calculating. You took a moment to collect yourself. "I'm surprised that you stayed at all," you admitted. "Didn't take you for the type." 

His hand fell over his chest. "Oh, how you wound me! I try to do the gentlemanly thing, and yet you accuse me and look at me like that."

You cocked a brow. "Like what?"

Astarion let out an exasperated sigh. "Let’s just say it’s easier to know what you're thinking when your eyes are shut.” He made a face, mortifyingly reminiscent of one you’d likely pulled the night before, and your mouth fell ajar.

If you’d been wearing shoes, you would have hurled one at him. But embarassed and barefoot, you instead dug your palms into the soil, more than ready to depart.

Astarion was roused into action. "Oh come on, my dear," he said softly. He sunk to the floor beside you, coaxing you to stay. "All in good fun."

You deliberated for a moment, watching him in your peripheral. There was a smile on his face but it didn't quite reach his eyes. Somewhere in the depths of your mind, a pang of hurt made itself known. You quickly squashed it down, hoping Astarion had not noticed it in his.

Whatever feelings had bubbled over last night were absent this morning, you could just tell. Perhaps he no longer found you interesting now that he'd conquered you. Maybe he'd pursued you just to break your heart, or gods forbid, he'd been put off after sleeping with you—

“It’s just so warm.”

The words left Astarion, quiet as a whisper. But then his eyes widened and his lips formed a taut line—as though they'd never intended to let anything escape at all.

"What?" you started. But with one small glance at the man, you realised; he was talking about the sun.

For a moment, you watched him, basking in the glow like there was no place he'd rather be. You hummed in agreement. “I guess it’s something we all take for granted here.” 

He nodded. It became obvious then; he hadn’t stayed for you, but for the sunrise.  

“Astarion, I–”

He snapped his head. The look in his eyes cautioned you—told you the two of you weren’t that close. But something behind that almost dared you to try.

Against your better judgement, you proceeded. “You might have already guessed, but I’m no early riser." A chuckle instinctively followed. “I know Lae’zel told us not to question the shifts she allocated, but..." you paused, "who wants to take watch at the crack of dawn? Certainly not me.”

It was silent for a moment—save for the soft lilting of birds and the occasional breeze. Yet even then, the morning dawned so quiet that your breaths felt loud.

It took a few seconds for Astarion to reanimate, but when he did, it was with a smile. “Oh, my dear... If you’re struggling that badly, you could’ve just said." He sat up, readjusting to meet you straight on. “It’s not a bother swapping with you—if the night shift is more to your taste.”

Your heart felt warm. Truthfully, you liked the dawn watch, but you had a feeling it would be better appreciated by him. “That would be wonderful, thank you."

You had an inkling that Astarion recognised your ploy, but but if did, he wasn’t making a show of it. His hand wove its way into yours, and pressed it into forest bed. “My pleasure," he said. Then he leaned forward with a grin.

You anticipated a kiss, but he stopped before your neck, tracing the bloody bruise he'd bestowed with his lips—worrying last night's sore between his teeth. “It's the least I can do...”

As he mumbled against your skin, a shiver sparked through your shared connection.

“I’ll be more gentle next time." His breath fanned hot over your ear. “Both ways.”

You let out a gasp. "It's okay, we don’t have to—” The words ejected from you, all flustered and not at all how you pictured them.

Astarion offered a smirk in return, but it was accompanied by an expression you now recognised.

He thought you naive.

“Precious,” he said beneath his breath, before returning your crumpled dress to you. “Now come. We best not keep the others waiting.”

And so you followed his lead and quickly dressed: smoothing your hair and attempting to rid your cheeks of their flush.

If anyone asked, you'd say you were sun-kissed.

[lilacstro]

pac : what you need to know about this separation/no-contact

ok this was the second most chosen topic. here we go, sincerely hoping it resonates and brings some light. you can use this reading for anyone, just remove the romantic messages if any, though I have tried keeping it as clean as possible.

let me know if it resonated :) leave feedbacks/suggestions <33

decks used: biddy tarot, inquire within oracle, cupid says oracle

pile 1 pile 2 pile 3

support me on ko-fi :)

Pile 1

Ok as soon as i started shuffling your pile, my sister started singing "fated trouble" by enhyphen. The first thing I would like to say is, it seems this relationship majorly ended because of internal chaos more than anything else. A stagnant situation. Someone being hung up on something. Cancer, or number 8 might be significant for someone. With 8, I am also willing to say Leo. There is so much fast and constant fear pile 1. So much of it. Were you guys very excited and hopeful about the future? Maybe you thought of getting married, and loving each other forever. I can say even if it was for a brief while, your love was reciprocated. One of the things I am being called to say is, there is a chance this connection matures into something you want, or you will find someone like that. Either ways, its time to give this a stop, I am getting clear messages about this. Let it go, and move forward. I am wondering if some of you feel alone or could be your person feels alone, but I am guessing its you. I feel that someone had to make a decision, a hard one to stay together. Someone needed to take a leap and they did not. There is a lot of inner conflict. Someone might have been in the victim mentality. This person, or you, may receive a lot of messages in your dream. Some of you may even receive flashbacks/dreams about all the good times you have spent together. I see both of you miss/missed each other while in this separation. An advice for you would be, to listen to your intuition. To yourself. I feel you have somehow caged yourself. Remove the blindfolds, its time to move forward and ahead. If you are overwhelmed with your emotions, know that its okay to feel what you are feeling pile 1. Giving me vibes of the one that got away.

If you resonated with anything I said, one of the reasons you might not want to go back, is that, you arent a hard choice to make. If this was not a life ending situation, someone being wishy washy about you is not what you deserve, You dont need to know how it WAS, you need to see, how it IS. Its surprising because tho I only see things being caught up here, and no forms of deceit, I am still being told now is not the time, now is the time to let go. And if your love is reciprocated, it will get the happy ending it deserves and I can promise that. Your situation wont end up with both of you having love but parting ways. IF your love is reciprocated pile 1, it will come back. But let it go for now. Let this rest. The lyrics from shy martin's songs are coming up:

"Do you remember how tangled we got in our feelings? Caught up on the small things And I know I thought that pain's part of love But I think I broke you, though I didn't mean to

But are you happy looking back at us When you met me? Would you go back and tell yourself to leave it Knowing what we know? Or are you happy that we happened in our 20s? So you know what you want isn't with me Would you go back and tell yourself to leave it Knowing how it goes? Or are you happy that we happened? Ah" Infact this song could describe your situation. I am listing it here, you might wanna hear it.

One advice I am strongly getting for you, is to go near water, if you can go to lakes, swimming pools, ponds and dip your feet in water, swim if you can and release energy. If you dont have access to watery places, stand in shower and do some standing meditation there. Water your plants. Collect seashells on oceans if possible.

I am promise you, you will be fine. Its time to start fresh and clear pile 1. I promise you it gets better. You will be fine, you will thrive. Dont make a mental prison, dont reflect about this over and over and think about what-ifs. Get up pile 1, i know you love them, but love yourself more. You need to move forward, its just one life, And if this person is supposed to be in it, they will be back. Your life is yours, they are just a part of it.

Advice:

Its ok to feel feelings Listen quietly yes, you can I have support Release.

Pile 2

Dissatisfaction. This is what that comes to my mind. Unlike the previous pile, this is ummm, weird. Lets get into this, One of the things I am getting is, you might be dealing with someone older. Money seems involved too. Did you take a break with this person? and come back? or something like that? Despite of whatever it is, this person seems immature, while you are much emotionally mature. Did you lose some money with this person? Its also giving me that their family had some issues with you, one of them possibly could be financial status. Since this is a general reading, multiple things come up, and i like listing all of them, since I dont know who this is for.

It could very much be that things changed overnight with this person, and what seemed a stable ground suddenly shook and went down all together. It gives me this vibe, that this person wanted to chose. They were not satisfied with what they had. I even feel you are dissatisfied with the overall outcome of this situation. I see someone walking away, most likely in disdain and despair. Strange how i am getting a song in my head for each pile until now, I am getting the lyrics from the song "are you bored yet?" by clario "Will you tell the truth so I don't have to lie?"

this song might make sense to you, so I am listing it here

I was refraining from saying this but, gives me lowkey playboy vibes. Someone who just wants fun. Take it if it resonates. I am also getting its very much possible one of you was moving away, probably even overseas that could have caused some problems. Random but, did this person like being praised? seems so. This person seems so nonchalant and casual to me? Listen Pile 2, if you resonate with this so far, I am getting that this person will get their karma and they would see that the grass isn't greener on the other side, and then actually come back sooner or later. Giving me the lyrics "I knew you'd miss me once the thrill expires, and you'd be standing in my front porch light, I know you'd come back to me"

Cardigan by Taylor Swift might resonate. I swear this person could have tried to deceive you with sweet words in the past or will do that in the future. I cannot tell you what to do with this pile 2, you can chose, but I would suggest you refrain from entertaining this person.

As of the advice, I am getting going out into the nature, and connecting with your inner child. Did you like catching butterflies when you were young pile2? what i mean to say is, tap in with your inner child, make them happy and do things you love. Start enjoying small little things around you. Maybe do gardening, plant a little seed or maybe buy one small plant for your room. Water it daily and love and care for it like you would for yourself. Connect yourself to earth, maybe sit on the ground and meditate, hug trees, and walk barefoot on grass. Feel it under your feet. Go on cycling, laugh a lot. All is good. Although I usually say, that you will transform and change, I feel called to say, you are already beautiful and the lessons you learnt here dont seem to change much, you already are, everything pile 2. If this situation made you doubt your worth or compare yourself to others, just dont. You are wonderful and deserve the best love.

Advice: Look into the nature for healing You already, are Celebrate little things Plant a seed and wait Have curiosity, maybe start learning something new/always wanted to Be patient, love always wins :)

Pile 3

Ok, so I feel this person could be very confused pile 3, could be in the past a lot. It could be that you have experienced multiple cycles with this person. A woman was coming through, maybe the person you are asking about is a woman, or maybe some woman was involved. I am also getting you could have had multiple fresh starts with this person, You could have met them in school, colleges, or through your mother. Number 4 might be significant to someone. I am also feeling some of you made this decision to walk away gracefully, probably on advice of your closed loved ones. summer feels important.

This seems to have been built on a shaky foundation pile 3. I keep on accidentally typing pile 2, you may wanna check pile 2 out. Anyways, was this person someone who you knew from a while? maybe childhood? I feel there has been arguments with this person, This person could have ran away as well, and how it happens everytime smh, they think about this a lot and just think, hmmm what should i do now? what should I do next. They could very well be stalking your social media if you have one. Looking at old pics or wanting to see you somehow. It CLEARLY appears to me, this person was very questionable, you dont seem the first priority to them. They were/are obsessed with something, either past or money. Could even be they were hiding something from you. This person looks lonely in some ways, maybe they lost you over this obsession for something else. And whats worse is, they still seem to be thinking, to be able to make a choice, so much immature energy pile 3. This person seems so much in their head over what they even want. So much thinking, you are an easy choice pile 3, you dont deserve this much contemplation just to be chosen and loved. They want to bring "justice" and the right solution to the situation. I wonder how long this will take since this person is definitely in their feels, and looking over the past and what went down.

They seem to just, sit and think endlessly and proceed to do nothing. My advice, just don't wait for someone like this. I am getting this feeling this person has confused themselves about you to a point where it seems like false love. It seems some weird guilt tripped thing rather than wanting to make things right out of genuine love. Regardless, this person is very restless and doesn't seem to have any satisfaction with what they have.

My advice for you, is to get out of your head about this situation. Also, if you saw this person as a competition, don't. If you see/ hear them doing well, dont trust everything you hear. Infact, if you hear anything about this person that should not concern you anymore, dont pay attention. Move at your pace, people who start running wayy before the marathon, exhaust themselves midway. I have learnt and seen this in my life. What i mean is, be at your own pace and you will win pile 3. If you have lost faith, so be it, but emerge out of this situation. I understand you could have connected to this person, but dont take this seriously anymore. Get out of your own way pile 3. I am also getting a message of creating to-do lists for your day. Consider praying or writing in your journal if you wish to manifest something. You dont deserve deceit pile 3.

Advice: Its not a competition Emerge, dont lose faith Dont take it all too seriously Get out of your own way Ask and ye shall receive dont trust everything you hear

[stxrslut]

sometimes when john b has a particularly hectic time with his treasure hunting, he forgets to come home and take care of you. and so you have to take it into your own hands.

pomegranate, dark chocolate, strawberries, walnuts, and a sandwich containing a little ‘home remedy’ that you’re sure will have him running right back home to you within the hour.

you giggle as you close the box, shoving into his backpack. maybe what you’re doing is slightly deceitful, but it’s what you need. john b has been off on his adventure all week and you haven’t received a dicking down longer than you would think fair.

once the food is placed all that is left to do is wait. you kiss your boyfriend goodbye and immediately go back into your room to freshens up.

you put on one of your newest sets, a lacy white number that you’re sure john b will love, especially if he already needing you. you also touch up your makeup and hair. by the end of it you’re certain you look absolutely gorgeous.

you get changed back into your regular sundress and go back into the living room to wait. you’re oddly exited. you wonder what effect this is going to have on john b, a good one, you don’t doubt that at least.

it’s almost exactly one in the afternoon when you hear his key turn in the door. you jump up to meet him at the door.

when he comes in you jump forward to hug him like you always do, wrapping your legs around his middle and not failing to notice the tenting fabric of his shorts. “hi jombee.” you smile and lean forward to kiss him before he can get a word in.

his breath is heavy, you notice that when he speaks. “hey baby.” he murmurs, carrying you inside. “what have you been up to while I was gone, hm?”

you’ve got to give it to him, he’s holding it together well. “oh not much… just waitin’ for you.” you smile, pulling yourself closer and slightly grinding against him in the process.

he whimpers, or something along the lines of it at least, a small choked sound that he can’t quite suppress.

you look down, internally celebrating the fact that your plan is most definitely working. “everything okay jombee?” you put on a faux frown to ask the question.

“yeah… all good.” he nods as he sits down on the couch, bringing you to straddle his lap. “just a little uhm… worked up at the moment you know baby?”

you nod, knowing more than he thinks, “yeah I know…” you push yourself up against him, purposefully grinding down on the shape of his cock through his shorts.

he forces a chuckle, “yeah— think you could help me with that, real quick?” his breaths are coming out shaky and uneven as you continue your movements.

his hands slide up your waist and pulls your dress up over your head. he lets out an unashamed moan at the sight of your lingerie. you smirk, happy with the fact that you got it right.

the next few minutes are a blur of desperate moans and movements. sweat gathers on both of your skin as you hump on eachother, both chasing your releases fast.

when john b cums, he cums hard. he throws his head back with a relieved groan, no doubt filling his boxers.

your own release follows shortly after, making you peak with a long whine before falling limp against his body.

“baby?” john b murmurs once you’re both recovered.

“yeah?” you look up to meet his eyes.

“what did you put in that sandwich?”

[edenmemes]

asoiaf: a dance with dragons starters

❝ i fear i make you uneasy. ❞ ❝ knowledge is a weapon. arm yourself well before you ride forth to battle. ❞ ❝ go on. show your steel. give me cause to do the same. ❞ ❝ fear is what keeps a man alive in this world of treachery and deceit. ❞ ❝ these woods are not as empty as you think. ❞ ❝ promise me that you will never turn against me. i could not bear that. promise me. ❞ ❝ the only time a man can be brave is when he is afraid. ❞ ❝ if i must die, i will die with an axe in my hand and a curse upon my lips. ❞ ❝ tales are told of you. i hear them everywhere. people fear you. ❞ ❝ go too far down that road,  and  mistrust  can  poison  you,  make you sour and fearful. ❞ ❝ you mistake me. that was a command, not an offer. ❞ ❝ sorcery is a sword without a hilt. there is no safe way to grasp it. ❞ ❝ prophecy is like a half-trained mule. it looks like it might be useful, but the moment you trust in it, it kicks you in the head. ❞ ❝ it is not the foes who curse you to your face that you must fear, but those who smile when you are looking and sharpen their knives when you turn your back. ❞ ❝ i rose too high, loved too hard, dared too much. i tried to grasp a star, overreached, and fell. ❞ ❝ they think that this will break my pride, that it will make an end to me, but they are wrong. ❞ ❝ tell me of the things that make you happy, the things that make you giggle, all your sweetest memories. remind me that there is still good in the world. ❞ ❝ one war ends, another begins. there is always someone fighting someone somewhere. ❞ ❝ this is what i was made for. the dance, the sweet steel song, a sword in my hand and a foe before me. ❞ ❝ my enemies have told you i am dead. those tales are false, as you can see. ❞ ❝ not all that a man does is done for gain. ❞ ❝ i know that you believe me weak, frightened, feeble. ❞ ❝ it takes a man to rule. kill the boy, and let the man be born. ❞ ❝ do you mean to spend your whole life running away? ❞ ❝ kingdoms are at hazard here. our lives, our names, our honour. this is no game we’re playing for your amusement. ❞ ❝ however gentle the words, there are always darker motives underneath. i do not trust you. ❞ ❝ a good honest face, but you should smile more. ❞ ❝ my throne is made of burned bones, and it rests on quicksand. ❞ ❝ you are so radiant today i fear to look on you. ❞ ❝ prove yourself more trouble than you are worth, and you can go your own way. ❞ ❝ you need not look so pale, i was only playing with you. ❞ ❝ this is not the day i die, i promise you. ❞ ❝ i wanted you from the first time i saw you. ❞ ❝ was i so blind, or  did  i  close  my  eyes  willingly, so i would not see the price of power? ❞ ❝ men should not go wandering in this place. ❞ ❝ hold your tongue and do as you are told, or you will soon wish you had. ❞ ❝ you won’t try. you will obey. ❞ ❝ kneel and live. or go and die. it’s your choice to make. ❞ ❝ are you so blind, or is it that you do not wish to see? ❞ ❝ that is not a place you want to go to. ❞ ❝ i will not go back without doing what i came for, no matter how hopeless it may seem. ❞ ❝ the fairest woman in this world...i am drunk with the sight of you. ❞ ❝ secrets are worth more than silver and sapphires. ❞ ❝ we have come too far to turn back now. ❞ ❝ what have i done to make you hate me so? ❞ ❝ you meet so few men who value friendship over gold these days. ❞ ❝ it is true, i am a bolder man than most. ❞ ❝ i cannot go home. but i dare not stay here much longer. ❞ ❝ foes and false friends are all around me. ❞ ❝ the fewer folk who will know of this, the better. ❞ ❝ all you have i gave you. remember that. ❞ ❝ will you make me say it twice? go and do as i commanded you. ❞ ❝ love is madness, and lust is poison. ❞ ❝ i feel safe when i’m with you. ❞ ❝ have you no smile for me? am i as fearful as all that? ❞ ❝ why did i ever allow myself to be talked into this farce? ❞ ❝ don’t think i don’t see what you’re doing. ❞ ❝ i will tell you nothing. do me the same favor. ❞ ❝ if i look back i am lost. ❞ ❝ a crown should not sit easy on the head. ❞ ❝ we must show a little trust, you and i. ❞ ❝ trust only your companions, and do your best to avoid attracting notice. ❞ ❝ you’re not going to try to kill me again, i hope. ❞ ❝ if you will forgive me for saying so, you look...weary. are you sleeping? ❞ ❝ your clothes are stained with blood. take them off. ❞ ❝ every fool loves to hear that he’s important. ❞ ❝ my father used to tell me that a man must know his enemies. ❞ ❝ you are a harmless creature, to be sure. as innocent as a lamb. ❞ ❝ till then, let us drink and dream. ❞ ❝ you will be tempted to betray me. to run or fight or join our foes. i’ll not hear you deny it. ❞ ❝ soon enough you may have grave need of me. do not refuse my friendship. ❞ ❝ it is best that no man knows that you are here. ❞ ❝ i kill kings, haven’t you heard? ❞ ❝ should any ill befall you, this world would lose its savor. ❞ ❝ some will look at you and see only another doomed pretender. ❞ ❝ i think life is a jape. yours, mine, everyone’s. ❞ ❝ i will forgive those words...once. but never presume to threaten me again. ❞ ❝ your father would be so proud if he could see you. ❞ ❝ just once you might try to give me an answer that would please me. ❞ ❝ they love me well. none would betray me. ❞ ❝ i have sins enough to answer for; i’ll have no part of this one. ❞ ❝ i mean you no harm, you know. ❞ ❝ i do not trust you, but i need you. ❞ ❝ we’ll both sleep, and dream of sweeter days. close your eyes. ❞ ❝ since you ask so nicely, how can i deny you? ❞ ❝ no wine is half so intoxicating as your beauty. ❞ ❝ why should i beg for what is owed me? ❞ ❝ a lord may love the men he commands, but he cannot be a friend to them. ❞ ❝ let them try and trouble us, we’ll show them what we’re made of. ❞ ❝ a leader should be feared, by friend and foe alike. if men think me cruel, so much the better. ❞ ❝ the enemy of my friend is my enemy. ❞ ❝ a book can be as dangerous as a sword in the right hands. ❞ ❝ i am an old man, grown weary of this world and its treacheries. ❞ ❝ these are desperate days, and like to grow more desperate. ❞ ❝ we need to find shelter before nightfall. ❞ ❝ there are footsteps behind us. we are being followed. ❞ ❝ this is no common fog. it stinks of sorcery. ❞ ❝ i am glad you came to me. it is good to see you again, my friend. ❞ ❝ the man who does nothing also takes a risk. ❞ ❝ the women are the strong ones. ❞ ❝ afraid, are you? i would be if i were you. ❞ ❝ tell me a tale. some tale of valor with a happy ending. ❞ ❝ i’ll have a cup of wine as well. to clear my head. ❞ ❝ we may lose our heads, it’s true...but what if we prevail? ❞ ❝ keep your swords sharp. we’ll have us a real fight soon. ❞ ❝ this is going to end badly. ❞ ❝ what are you doing here? how did you get past my guards? ❞ ❝ it is so hard. to be strong. i don’t always know what i should do. ❞ ❝ let us instead speak of love, of dreams and desire. ❞ ❝ you wound me, wandering off like this. have you grown tired of my hospitality so soon? ❞ ❝ with this sword i defend my subjects and destroy those who menace them. ❞ ❝ it is too late for such misgivings. you made your choice. ❞ ❝ in times as confused as these, even men of honor must wonder where their duty lies. ❞ ❝ why? what did i ever do to you? ❞ ❝ we must be certain that we do not choose the losing side. ❞ ❝ dream sweet dreams. there are no monsters here. ❞ ❝ i know who you are. i know what you are. ❞ ❝ a little honest loathing might be refreshing, like a tart wine after too much sweet. ❞ ❝ a bloody sword is a beautiful thing. ❞ ❝ a ruler belongs to their people, not to themself. ❞ ❝ if the ones i killed come haunt me, i will kill them all again. ❞ ❝ you shine so brightly, you will blind every man who dares look upon you. ❞ ❝ a fair bargain leaves both sides unhappy, i’ve heard it said. ❞ ❝ there’s blood on your hands, aye, same as mine. ❞ ❝ i have done wicked things, i know, but i could not bear for you to hate me. ❞ ❝ it is good to see you smiling again. ❞ ❝ i have doubts enough without you throwing oil on the fire of my fear. ❞ ❝ blood pays for blood, a life for a life. ❞ ❝ go home, if that is what you want. i am staying. ❞ ❝ a man’d think there’s no trust between us. ❞ ❝ i would choose freedom over comfort every time. ❞ ❝ you are even lovelier than i was told. ❞ ❝ stay. i do not wish to be alone. ❞ ❝ treachery on treachery. is there no end to it? ❞ ❝ dreams and prophecies. why must they always be in riddles? ❞ ❝ one wrong word, and this could turn to blood in half a heartbeat. ❞ ❝ you lie. i can see the truth in your eyes. ❞ ❝ throw down your steel and stand aside, and no harm need come to you. ❞ ❝ you are supposed to be my friend. why must you mock my hopes? ❞ ❝ it is better to die with honor than to live without it. ❞ ❝ it does no good to brood on lost battles and roads not taken. ❞ ❝ i see you are deaf to sense. ❞ ❝ you are no better than me. we’re just the same. ❞ ❝ a man should never draw his sword unless he means to use it. ❞ ❝ you kill men for the wrongs they have done, not the wrongs that they may do someday. ❞ ❝ close your eyes. close your ears. turn away. you do not need to see this. ❞ ❝ the sooner we are gone from this place, the better. ❞ ❝ i am sorry my actions have displeased you. i did as i thought best. ❞ ❝ you do not need to trust a man to use him. ❞ ❝ if you cannot do this thing, you need only say so. there is no shame in that. ❞ ❝ never wound a foe when you can kill him. dead men don’t claim vengeance. ❞ ❝ this is what i wanted, what i worked for. so why does it taste so much like defeat? ❞ ❝ honest men should never need to hide their faces. ❞ ❝ i am not the trusting fool you take me for. ❞ ❝ men’s lives have meaning, not their deaths. ❞ ❝ he’s dead. he won’t bite. ❞ ❝ if this is the price for peace, i pay it willingly. ❞ ❝ it makes me wonder whose side you are on. ❞ ❝ dreams and prophecies. why must they always be in riddles? ❞ ❝ i will not say that you are welcome. nor will i deny that i have hoped that you might come. ❞ ❝ you have the eyes of a wolf and a taste for blood. ❞ ❝ men are mad and gods are madder. ❞ ❝ one war ends, another begins. there is always someone fighting someone somewhere. ❞ ❝ not all risks lead to ruin. ❞ ❝ is there some place with fewer eyes and ears? ❞ ❝ i need you now as i have never needed you before. ❞ ❝ tell me, is there any fight left in you? ❞ ❝ it was the wind that you heard screaming. ❞ ❝ crying? i was not crying. why would i cry? ❞ ❝ are you some butcher of the battlefield, hacking down every man who stands in your way? ❞ ❝ rain. a storm is coming. ❞ ❝ that was simple. simpler than i dared hope. simpler than it should have been. ❞ ❝ see that you do not speak of this. i’ll not have this tale spread. ❞ ❝ how could i be so blind for so long? ❞ ❝ you had a bad dream, that was all. ❞ ❝ are you prepared to defend that boast with sword or lance? ❞ ❝ i will do it. i said i would. i will. ❞ ❝ think that. believe that. tell yourself it’s true. ❞ ❝ you have more enemies than you know. ❞ ❝ i have no heart. i only have a hole. ❞ ❝ it has been too long since i’ve killed a man. ❞ ❝ words are wind. words cannot harm me. ❞ ❝ have you forgotten who i am? ❞ ❝ too many good men died that day. ❞ ❝ it is so good to see your face, your sweet face. ❞ ❝ it is still not too late to abandon this folly. ❞ ❝ i will not stay here to be insulted. ❞

[celticcrossanon]

BRF Reading - 27th of August, 2024

This is speculation only

Cards drawn on the 27th of August, 2024

Question: Why are we getting articles about Prince William stopping The King and Harry from reconciling?

Note: I did this reading with all upright cards, so there are no reversals.

Note 2: The energy of this reading is of an extreme impatience. I could barely sit still and focus enough to type it up. The energy is saying 'I just want this done already' and 'make it happen' while it goes off and does something else. It is very distracting and makes it very hard for me to focus, so my apologies if this reading is not as in depth as it usually is. The energy is also giving me a headache, right across the middle of my forehead. Someone is tetchy and impatient and just wants this matter finished.

Interpretation: The King wants to reconcile with Prince Harry and restore him to his old position in the BRF. Prince William doesn't agree and won't support him.

Card One: Judgement

Judgement is a card of reflection, self evaluation, renewal, second chances, and forgiveness - and of judging people.

The energy of this card is of forgiveness. The King wants to forgive Harry, bring him home, and restore him to his place in the BRF that he lost when he decided to Megxit. He wants Harry back, either as a working royal or as half-in half-out. The message here is come home, all is forgiven, you will have what was taken from you.

Then there is the Prince William energy, which says, very bluntly, No. My brother did horrible things and I am judging him on that, He hasn't shown remorse, he hasn't asked for forgiveness, so there is no way I am welcoming him back as a working royal. He will be lucky if I even acknowledge him as family one day in the future.

This is the answer to the question. The King wants Harry back, he knows he needs Prince William's support for this to happen, and Prince William is saying No, absolutely not. I will not support this.

Card Two: The Moon

The Moon is a card of lies, deceit, deception, things not appearing as they are. It can also represent the mother and pregnancy with the rounded belly, especially in astrology. The energy of this card is that things that are hidden remain hidden if Harry comes back, i.e. we keep the surrogacies hidden and don't reveal his role in them. The Moon can represent emotions and driving people crazy, so that could refer to the emotional fallout from Meghan (and Harry's) bullying. Again, this is to remain a secret.

The clarifier for this card is the Wheel of Fortune. The King wants to restore Harry's fortune, restore his good name, and that means not revealing anything more of the horrible things he has done. Everything is to remain covered up and distorted.

The second clarifier for this card is The Nine of Pentacles, the single happy independent wealthy person card. King Charles wants his son to be happy and wealthy and single, and if that means burying past misdeeds, then that is what he will do.

Prince William is not happy about this at all. That is the energy I am getting for him - unhappiness.

Card Three: Three of Swords

This is the card of despair, heartbreak, grief, and separation. The King is very upset about being separated from Harry. He wants to be able to forgive his son and have his son back at home with him (I keep hearing the words 'where he belongs'). The card shows a King being killed by family members (his wife and her lover), so either The King wants this to happen before he dies or having Harry return is going to be a death knell for him, or both.

The clarifier for this was the Ace of Cups. This is a card of new relationships, renewed relationships, loving someone, pregnancy, and motherhood. It can also be a card of intuition and spirituality, which brings to mind the recent article about The King being willing to forgive Harry after taking 'spiritual nourishment' from religious leaders. This tells me that The King really wants to renew his relationship with Harry and he is very upset that Prince William is not supporting him in this endeavour.

The only Prince William energy I get from this card is that Harry is dead to him. He has been through the grief, the sorrow, the pain over Harry's actions and he has no desire to renew that relationship and be hurt again. It is over between them as far as he is concerned.

Underlying Energy: The Six of Pentacles

This is a card of charity and generosity, of giving material help and supporting someone.

The energy of this card is of forgiveness and support. The King wants to help Harry, he wants to have his son safe at home under his wing. The picture shows a beggar (Harry) kneeling before the King (Charles) and receiving money (money, shelter, support etc). The King wants to take Harry back and he wants this to be seen as a generous, loving, good thing to do, hence the articles about the spiritual virtue of forgiveness, the prodigal son etc - The King wants to be seen as a good person for doing this.

However, in the story, King Minos took the craftsman Daedalus in and supported him, and Daedalus helped his wife betray The King with a bull and that led to the Minotaur being born and all the trouble and terror that came with that. The energy from the card says that taking Harry back will have a similar disastrous effect on the BRF and on the UK.

This is supported by the clarifier for this card, the Tower. This is a sudden, unexpected event that completely destroys part of your life and leaves you to rebuild from the ashes. Taking Harry back and giving him want he wants (handing over the Pentacles) at this moment in time would be a Tower moment of epic proportions.

Conclusion:

The King wants Harry back in the BRF as a working royal or, at the very least, drawing and income from the crown and living in a crown property. He wants to give Harry back everything he has lost so he can have his son back. This includes keeping any secrets covered up that involve Harry, directly or indirectly, so his reputation can be restored and not damaged further. There is a very strong longing for his son coming through here.

To do this, The King knows that he needs Prince William's support, and Prince William is having none of it. Harry is dead to him. He has judged Harry, he is unimpressed with the result (pain and suffering), and he is not letting him back in the BRF to use and hurt them all again.

The cards also say that letting Harry return and giving him back his previous position would be a terrible mistake, something that will unleash a Tower moment on the BRF and the monarchy.

This is not a question of one son stopping his ailing and grieving father from performing an act of Christian virtue and forgiving and reconciling with his other son. That is the narrative that is in the press (more of less), and that is not what this is about. This is about not letting someone back into the family who has the potential to hurt and destroy them all. Prince William sees this and says No. The King wants it anyway and tries to sell it to the people so he can say yes. (imo).

[sizzlingstarlightsky]

*Conquer The Stars

Azriel x Eris smut

word count: 3000

Summary: Azriel and Eris search the unspoken words between them

cw: porn with little plot, ass eating, oral, anal

The moon hovered low in the night sky, casting a silver glow over the dense forest floor.

A gentle breeze danced through the leaves, stirring the shadows into a mesmerizing ballet of darkness and light.

A solitary figure, wrapped in the silence of the night, moved with the grace of a predator, the crackling of twigs beneath their boots the only sound in the stillness.

Eris Vanserra.

The sharp-tongued fae prince with a heart as fiery as his hair, stepped into a clearing, his flamed eyes scanning the horizon. He had been summoned by a cryptic message, the sender's identity shrouded in mystery.

His curiosity piqued, he had followed the instructions to the letter, eager to find the source of the intrigue.

The air grew thick with anticipation as he felt the presence of someone approaching from the shadows.

Emerging from the gloom was Azriel, the infamous spymaster of the Night Court, known for his cold demeanor and deadly efficiency.

His midnight wings unfurled, the stark contrast against the light fabric of his shirt billowed softly. He moved with the grace of a panther, his eyes narrowing as they fell upon Eris, his expression unreadable.

The two males had crossed paths before, but never under such clandestine circumstances.

"You came," Azriel's voice was a velvet purr that seemed to resonate in the very air around them.

Eris raised an eyebrow, his hand casually resting on the hilt of his sword.

"I'm not one to ignore a tantalizing invitation."

His voice held a hint of challenge, his eyes never leaving the shadowy figure before him.

Azriel's smile was a sly curve of his lips, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement. "Indeed, you're not."

He took a step closer, the fabric of his wings brushing against the tall grass, leaving a trail of darkness in his wake. "What do you seek, Eris?"

Eris matched the shadowsinger's step, his hand still on his sword. "The same as you, it seems."

His eyes searched Azriel's, looking for any sign of deceit or hidden intent. "An answer to a question that burns within us both."

The tension between them was palpable, a silent dance of power and desire. Each male knew the other's reputation, the whispers of their prowess and cunning.

Yet here they were, drawn together by an invisible thread that neither could resist.

"An answer," Azriel repeated softly, his eyes lingering on Eris's full lips. "But what if the answer is one neither of us wishes to hear?"

Eris's heartbeat quickened, the anticipation thrumming in his veins. He stepped closer, their bodies now a mere breath apart.

"Then we face it," he murmured, the heat from his breath mingling with the night air.

Azriel's gaze dropped to Eris's hand on the sword hilt, then back to his eyes. Slowly, he reached out and wrapped his fingers around Eris's, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through the warrior's body.

"And if it's a question that requires more than words to answer?"

The challenge in Azriel's eyes was clear, and Eris felt his pulse race. He knew the spymaster wasn't referring to a mere exchange of information.

This was a dance of a different kind, one that could lead to passionate surrender or brutal rejection. He swallowed hard, his grip tightening on the sword.

"Then we explore it together," he said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to echo through the clearing.

With a sudden, surprising move, Azriel stepped closer, closing the distance between them. His hand on Eris's was firm, but gentle, and Eris felt his own hand relax, the tension in his arm melting away.

They stared into each other's eyes, the air thick with the scent of the night-blooming flowers and the promise of something more.

In a heartbeat, the two male's swords were sheathed with a synchronized metallic whisper. The sound echoed through the clearing like a declaration of peace between two ancient enemies.

Eris's chest rose and fell with anticipation, his heart hammering against his ribs.

Their eyes remained locked, the unspoken question hanging in the air. Without breaking the gaze, Azriel leaned in, his breath warm against Eris's skin.

Eris felt his own breath catch, his eyes fluttering shut as their lips met in a fierce, possessive kiss.

The kiss was a spark that ignited a wildfire within them, an alchemy of passion and need that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long.

Their bodies melded together, hands roaming over leather and fabric, desperate to find bare skin.

The soft groan that escaped Azriel's throat was like a sweet symphony to Eris's ears, urging him to deepen the kiss.

The spymaster's wings enveloped them, creating a private sanctuary amidst the openness of the clearing.

Eris's hands found the buttons of Azriel's shirt, deftly undoing them, revealing the dark sculpted muscles beneath.

Their kiss grew more urgent, tongues clashing and exploring, as they stumbled backward towards a fallen log.

Eris broke away for a moment, his eyes searching Azriel's for permission. The nod he received was all the invitation he needed.

With a gentle push, he laid Azriel down, their bodies aligned, chests heaving.

The moonlight painted the spymaster's skin in an ethereal glow, illuminating the scars that told a thousand silent stories of battles and pain.

Their kisses grew frantic, teeth grazing and tongues dancing. Eris's hands slid over the firm contours of Azriel's chest, tracing the lines of muscles that rippled beneath his fingertips.

He felt the winged faerie shiver at his touch, his breath hitching in a silent gasp. Eris's heart swelled with a strange tenderness, a stark contrast to the burning need that consumed him.

Pulling back slightly, Eris studied Azriel's face, the play of emotions that flickered in the moonlit darkness. He saw the warrior in him, the cold, calculating gaze that had earned him his fearsome reputation.

...but there was something else, something vulnerable, that made Eris's chest ache.

He leaned down, pressing feather-light kisses along the strong line of Azriel's jaw, feeling the stubble of his beard against his lips.

With a gentle touch, Eris traced the line of Azriel's neck with his tongue, tasting the salty sweetness of his skin.

Azriel's hands found their way into Eris's hair, gripping tightly as Eris's kisses grew more insistent, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh.

The spymaster's breathing grew ragged, his body arching slightly off the log as Eris moved lower.

When Eris reached the top of Azriel's pants, he paused, looking up to gauge the reaction in the other male's eyes. The hunger he saw there was unmistakable, and it sent a thrill of power through him.

With a smoldering smile, Eris undid the fastening of Azriel's pants, revealing the erection that strained against the fabric of his underclothes.

He took a moment to appreciate the size and beauty of it, the tip glistening with arousal.

"Seems like someone's been keeping secrets," Eris said with a smirk, his voice low and teasing.

Azriel's eyes narrowed playfully. "And you, Eris, seem to enjoy unraveling them."

Eris chuckled, his hand curling around Azriel's length. "Oh, I do love a good mystery," he murmured, stroking the velvety skin with a featherlight touch.

The spymaster's hips bucked, a guttural moan escaping his lips. He tightened his grip on Eris's hair, urging him closer.

Eris obeyed, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he took the head of Azriel's cock into his mouth.

The taste was intoxicating, a mix of male musk and the essence of power that was uniquely Azriel.

The spymaster's hips began to move in a steady rhythm, guiding Eris deeper.

Eris's own desire was a living, pulsing thing, demanding release. He worked Azriel's length with eager strokes, his tongue swirling around the sensitive tip.

The feel of the velvet steel in his mouth was maddening, and he could feel his own erection pressing against his pants.

But this moment wasn't just about pleasure; it was about claiming something that had been denied to them for too long, about breaking down the barriers that had kept them apart.

The moans that escaped Azriel grew louder, more feral, his hips rising to meet Eris's ministrations.

Eris's eyes never left Azriel's, watching the play of emotions - the surprise, the pleasure, the surrender - that flickered in those dark pools.

He took him deeper, savoring the way Azriel's eyes rolled back in his head, the way his chest heaved with each ragged breath.

The spymaster's grip on Eris's hair tightened, his hips moving in a rhythm that was as old as time itself.

"Fuck, Eris," Azriel breathed, the words a desperate plea and a command all rolled into one. "Take it all."

Eris's smirk grew wider as he felt the power of Azriel's response.

He swallowed down the spymaster's cock, feeling the heat and pulse of him, the velvet hardness that spoke of unbridled passion.

He could feel Azriel's heart hammering in his chest, the throb of his arousal echoing the beat of the night around them.

The spymaster's wings twitched and fluttered as Eris worked him, the shadows playing over the leathery veins like living tattoos.

Each gasp and groan from Azriel was music to Eris's ears, fueling the fire that burned within him. He knew he had the power to shatter the facade of the infamous shadowsinger, to reveal the male beneath the mask.

Their movements grew more frantic, the sound of fabric tearing as Eris's own clothes were discarded.

The cool night air kissed his skin, heightening the sensation of Azriel's body against him.

He could feel the tension coiling in the spymaster's muscles, the beginnings of his release.

But Eris wasn't done yet. He pulled away, leaving Azriel panting and desperate. "Turn over," he instructed, his voice a rough whisper that sent shivers down the other male's spine.

With a flicker of doubt in his eyes, Azriel complied, his wings folding in tightly as he presented his back to Eris.

The warrior took a moment to appreciate the sight of Azriel's strong, sculpted back, the play of moonlight across the scars that criss-crossed his skin.

The spymaster's breathing was heavy and uneven, his body trembling with anticipation.

Eris knelt beside Azriel, his hand caressing the taut muscles of his thigh. His touch was feather-light, teasing, as he traced a path up to the curve of his ass.

The shadowsinger tensed, his eyes fluttering closed, and Eris felt a thrill of power knowing he could elicit such a reaction.

He leaned in, his breath hot against Azriel's skin, and kissed the tender flesh.

The first brush of Eris's tongue against Azriel's hole was electric, sending shockwaves through the spymaster's body.

He bucked, a cry torn from his lips, the pleasure so intense it was almost painful. Eris held firm, his grip on Azriel's hip keeping him in place as he explored the uncharted territory with a hunger that was insatiable.

His tongue delved deeper, tasting the musky sweetness that was uniquely Azriel's.

The spymaster's body was a landscape of pleasure and Eris was eager to conquer every inch.

"You're mine," Eris whispered, the words a declaration and a promise. "Tonight, and every night that follows."

The dominance in Eris's voice sent a shiver down Azriel's spine. He knew Eris was a prince, warrior, and in this moment, he was willing to be conquered.

With trembling hands, he reached back, gripping Eris's shoulders, his nails digging in slightly as the prince's tongue worked its magic.

Eris felt Azriel's body tense and release with every stroke, the spymaster's breath hitching and moaning with each caress. His own cock was hard and aching, demanding attention, but Eris was determined to savor every second of this newfound intimacy.

He traced the edge of Azriel's entrance with the tip of his tongue, the taste of him intoxicating.

With a growl of need, Eris stood, his hand guiding his throbbing erection towards Azriel's slickened hole.

He didn't ask for permission, didn't wait for consent; the heat between them was consent enough.

The head of his cock nudged against Azriel's opening, the anticipation almost unbearable. He watched as the spymaster's wings twitched, his knuckles turning white from the grip he had on the log.

Slowly, Eris pushed in, feeling the tightness yield to his intrusion.

Azriel's purring moans grew louder, his body arching as Eris sheathed himself completely.

The feeling of being inside him was unlike anything Eris had ever experienced, a mix of power and vulnerability that shook him to his core.

He paused, his forehead pressed against Azriel's back, their bodies connected in a way that transcended the physical.

Their movements began as a slow, torturous dance, each thrust measured and deliberate.

Eris savored the way Azriel's body clenched around him, the way the spymaster's moans grew more desperate with each pass.

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the clearing, a primal symphony of passion and desire.

The scent of arousal hung heavy in the air, mixing with the sweetness of the night-blooming flowers.

As Eris's rhythm grew more urgent, so too did the shadows that coiled around Azriel's body. They slithered upwards, caressing his skin like the darkest of lovers, whispering sweet nothings in his ear.

The shadows grew more solid, more tangible, until they were coiled around his cock, eager to serve their master.

They stroked him in time with Eris's movements, the contrast of cold and warm sending shockwaves through his body.

Eris felt the shadows, the power that was uniquely Azriel's, and his own passion grew in response. He gripped the spymaster's hips tighter, his thrusts becoming more forceful.

The clearing around them seemed to pulse with energy, the very air vibrating with the intensity of their joining.

The night itself seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the moment when they would reach their peak.

The lewd sounds of their union filled the space between them, the slap of skin and the wet suction of Eris claiming Azriel's body.

Eris's eyes were closed, lost in the sensation of being inside the man he had craved for so long. He felt the tension in Azriel's body, the spymaster's muscles tightening around him, urging him deeper, demanding more.

"Yes, Eris," Azriel breathed, his voice thick with pleasure. "More."

Their cries grew louder, echoing through the clearing, a symphony of pleasure that seemed to resonate with the very soul of the forest.

The moon above them was a silent witness to their union, the light casting an erotic tableau of shadows and skin.

The air was charged with the scent of arousal and the musky tang of earth, the sounds of their passion a testament to the depth of their desire.

Eris felt his own release building, the pressure coiling in his balls, demanding release.

His hips slammed into Azriel, his teeth sinking into the spymaster's shoulder as he claimed him fully.

The shadows around them grew more frenzied, the dark energy feeding off their desire. The power of the Night Court spymaster pulsed through Eris, making him feel invincible, like he could conquer the world.

But it was the tremble in Azriel's voice, the desperate, pleading tone that had Eris's heart racing.

He knew he couldn't hold on much longer, the tension too great to bear.

With one final, powerful thrust, Eris felt the warmth of Azriel's climax wash over him, the shadowsinger's body convulsing with the force of it.

The shadows grew darker, more intense, wrapping around them like a living blanket of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

"You're so good for me" Eris whispered, his voice hoarse from the cries of ecstasy that had torn from his throat.

The words sent a warmth through Azriel that was far more potent than any aphrodisiac.

Eris felt something shift within him, a barrier crumbling, revealing the raw, unfiltered emotion that had been buried beneath layers of sarcasm and bravado.

"You're everything," Azriel gasped, his voice barely above a whisper.

Their bodies remained connected, the tremors of their shared release slowly subsiding.

Eris leaned over, his chest pressing against Azriel's back, his breathing ragged. He kissed the damp skin of Azriel's neck, feeling the rapid pulse of the spymaster's heart.

The shadows retreated, the energy dissipating into the night as if they had never been there.

For a moment, they simply lay there, the only sound their mingled breaths and the rustle of leaves in the breeze.

Then, with a sigh, Azriel turned over, his eyes meeting Eris's.

The intensity of their gaze was unchanged, the desire still smoldering, but now there was something else - a spark of hope, a glimmer of something softer.

The spymaster reached up, his hand cupping Eris's cheek. His thumb brushed over the prince's lower lip, the gesture tender and intimate.

"You make me feel alive," he murmured, his voice husky, laced with bliss.

Eris's eyes searched Azriel's, the depth of emotion in his gaze unmistakable.

"And you, Azriel, make me feel like I can conquer the stars," he replied, his voice thick with feeling.

Their kiss was gentle this time, a stark contrast to the passionate frenzy of moments before.

It was as if they were discovering each other anew, exploring the tender softness beneath the hardened exteriors they had cultivated.

Eris's hand slid down to Azriel's chest, feeling the steady throb of his heart beneath his fingertips.

The spymaster's hand mirrored his, resting over Eris's own heart, the warmth of their skin a stark contrast to the coolness of the night.

Eris pulled Azriel closer, their foreheads touching, their eyes closed as they savored the feeling of their hearts beating in sync.

The tender kisses that followed were a gentle exploration of each other's bodies, a silent promise of more to come.

Let me know if you wanna be tagged in Azris fics 🖤❤️‍🔥

[hansensgirl]

summary. | Your professor knows just how to get his star student to eat out of his hand.

prompts. | Andy Barber + Professor + “You want something from me? You gotta ask nicely.” (credits to @celestianstars for inspiring this prompt) + Abuse of power, requested by Anonymous.

pairing. | dark!professor!Andy Barber x fem!reader.

warnings. | NON/DUBCON, abuse of power, power imbalance, professor/student relationship, male oral (mentioned/alluded to), overachiever reader, kind of mean!andy, lying, deceit, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics

You stare down at the paper you spent many sleepless nights working on with tears in your eyes. The letters turn into grey blurs. 

You always knew Professor Barber was a hard-ass, but you never thought you’d bear the brunt of his harsh grading. You felt you were getting by well this semester, never bothering him with questions unless absolutely necessary. He hated his job—everyone knew that from his heavy sighs and grimaces. And now, you feel like he’s taking it out on you, even though you’re just a part of the sea of faces that’ll forget about him once exams are over.

You sit on the bench outside his office, early for your appointment with him. You scheduled it in a frenzy, and he replied just as quickly as when you hit ‘send.’ That didn’t puzzle you since you had woken up very early that morning, and you know that professors sleep odd hours.

He must be less than excited to meet with you. Every faculty member seems to be a burning thread, fraying at the ends.

The door opens, and Professor Barber clears his voice, snapping you out of your stupor. You look up at him with glassy eyes, and he nods his head, allowing you to enter his office.

You catch a whiff of his cologne as you walk past the older man. There’s even a hint of coffee, perhaps from a spill. 

“Good evening, Professor Barber,” you start, a thoroughly rehearsed speech on the tip of your tongue. You’re a perfectionist when it comes to your grades—the only thing that gives you purpose at this point. “Good evening…?” he returns, waiting for you to give him your name.

You do exactly that, and he repeats it. “Please, call me Andy,” he insists, so you do. 

“You wanted to talk about your paper?” he asks, shutting the door behind him. You swear you can hear the lock click, but you doubt Andy would do that. “Yes. I just… I worked so hard on it and thought I did good…” you trail off, unable to finish your sentence.

You can’t fail this class—you don’t need another flaw to worry about. You doubt you’d get a spot in next year, anyway. Not until the weak ones give up halfway through the semester.

“You want to know why I gave you that mark?” Andy asks, hands clasped with his elbows resting on the chair. You nod your head. “Well, it’s alright, really. Not what I was looking for at all. It’s weak in too many spots. I can see right through your points,” he explains as though it were obvious.

The criticism stings, but you take it. 

“C– Can I rewrite it? Please?” you plead, finally looking up at him. “Or I can do an extra?” you offer, but the click of his tongue makes you want to cry again.

“I don’t give out second chances. You know that, don’t you? You’re a smart girl,” Andy says before sighing. “I suppose I could let you try again, though. You’ll do better, right?” he asks, standing up again.

He seems restless—you are, too. Your leg bounces from nervousness. 

“Of course—thank you, Professor,” you smile, ready for his next instructions. You’ll take anything he gives you if that upsetting grade is forever erased. He smiles down at you, a sight you’ve never seen before. 

Suddenly, though, you hear the clinking of a belt. You snap your head to look at where the sound came from, greeted by his crotch right in your face. Andy stands to your right, and dread fills you. “You want me to fix your grade, yeah?” the professor asks, but you don’t answer. You’re too scared.

You can’t fight him, can’t escape. If you did, who would you tell? You have a higher chance of getting in trouble than him. 

Andy cups your cheek with his left hand as he pulls down his fly with the other, freeing his thick cock from the confines of his boxers. He’s so hard that he’s a flushed red colour, with veins and a leaky tip. 

“You want something from me? You gotta ask nicely,” he tells you, voice as rough as when he speaks to the delinquents of your class. You watch him with tears in your eyes and accede, mouth opening for your professor to use you.

“See? I always knew you were a smart girl. You just needed a little push.” 

[gretavangroupie]

The Ripe and The Ruin (Chapter 9)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader, OC x Reader, Jake Kiszka, x OC

Word Count: 17.6k

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Anxiety, Lying, Allusions to cheating, Deceit, Arguing, Yelling, Mental and Emotional Manipulation, Vulnerability, Kissing and Sexual Themes.

Find the Playlist Here: Apple Music | Spotify

A new series in collaboration with my talented co-writer @gretavanmoon.

A/N: The final chapter! Thanks so much for sticking this one out with us. Major shout out to @gretavanmoon who bore the brunt of this last chapter as I experienced some mental burnout. This wouldn't have happened without her fierce dedication to this story. I hope you love the end of this story, and keep your eye out for what we are cooking up next.

"Like all good fruit, the balance of life is in the ripe and ruin."

JAKE POV

Your clenched fists are still resting on the cold metal elevator doors, your forehead falling down to join them. Fuck. Fuck fuck…everything is fucking ruined for real, now. Why did you have to let your urges get the best of you last night? Everything you could have had…

Your fists pound a few more times as you hear a commotion in the hallway behind you, realizing that a few people had now joined you in the quiet corridor. You pull away from the elevator doors to gather your thoughts, the rage rushing through your bloodstream as you pace the hardwood floors. You’re mad. You’re so fucking mad. At everyone, and at everything. But mostly, you’re disappointed in yourself.

“What the fuck do I do now?” you murmur as the strangers board the elevator, giving you a few tight smiles and nods as the doors close on them. You feel like you could take on a hundred men, let your fists fly and your tongue shoot daggers at anyone who dared walk past you. But you know that’s not you. It’s just the adrenaline, the disappointment, the regret…

Angry tears are pricking at your eyes as you rush back to the room, feeling as if you could walk right through the wall. This is it, it’s all over. No more. It’s done.

You force the door open and hear it hit  the wall behind it, finding Isla still wrapped up in the bed sheets as she stands beside the bed, your phone in her hand. 

“Isla, what the fuck are you doing?” you shout, feeling your face grow hot. Her mouth is gaping open, the look on her face one you’re oh-so familiar with. “Is that my phone?”

She turns the screen to face you, showing you the photo that you had taken of Y/N in that not so innocent position a couple of weeks ago, with yourself buried inside her. You rip the phone from her hand, completely embarrassed for yourself, and for her. 

“Real fucking classy, Jacob. And I went through your texts with her, too! What the fuck?! You were lying to me all along ! This whole time!” she screams, pulling the sheets up over her chest.

You can hardly see straight. Your vision is blurry and you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. Your hands go numb and you feel your face absolutely burning with wild rage. 

“Are you fucking kidding me, Isla?!” You scream, feeling as if your voice isn’t your own. You squeeze your phone in your hand before launching it across the room, watching as it smacks hard against the wall, leaving a mark in the drywall before it falls to the wooden floor. 

“That is a complete invasion of privacy! I did not give you permission to do that! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” you shout, letting your hands come up and cover your eyes. You can’t even bear to look at her anymore. “You know what? Get out. Get the fuck out of my room. Now.”

Your chest is heaving and you can hear her starting to mope, letting out exasperated breaths as you hear her throw the sheets back onto the bed. You finally uncover your eyes but you still can’t see straight, you’re so blinded with rage. You busy yourself with whatever the fuck you can do while Isla gets dressed, haphazardly throwing her things into her bag as she barks out bursts of bitchiness again. 

“How fucking could you, Jake? After all we had, after all this… I came here for you, you slept with me, and now I find out you’ve been fucking her all along?!”

“I told you I was sleeping with her, Isla! Goddamnit! You asked, and I told you… I don’t know what the fuck else you want me to say. I didn’t… I didn’t mean for last night to happen, you know that always fucking happens with us, and I regret it, already. All of it…” 

You hear the sobs come through her nose as she stuffs her things in her bags. “Where the fuck do you want me to go Jake?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“I don’t know. I don’t really care, at this point. I didn’t even invite you here,” you shoot back, almost defeatedly. 

She huffs a sarcastic laugh. “Just like you… have sex with me, really good sex with me… then toss me away after. That’s all you’ve ever wanted me for, anyway. Just a good fuck. Nothing’s ever gonna change with you, is it? You’re always gonna be a fucking jerk…” she rambles, reigniting that flame in your chest. You step closer to her, close enough to feel her breath on your face. 

“Don’t you ever accuse me of that, Isla,” you growl through gritted teeth. “Do not ever fucking take it there. That could not be further from the truth, and you fucking know it.” If you weren’t blind with rage before, you sure as hell are now, accusing you of only ever wanting her for that. 

She picks up her phone and taps around the screen. “You’re the love of my life, Jake. But I swear to god I question why I’m even with you every single day…” she pulls the phone up to her ear. 

“We aren’t together, Isla! You need to get that through your head!” you yell, raising your hands up in the air. “Please, get the fuck out of my room!” 

She puts her phone onto speaker and you hear Lyla’s voice on the other end. 

“Hey, Ly? I’m coming to your room. What’s the number?” you hear her throw on her fake tears as she speaks. She throws her bag strap over her shoulder as she brushes past you. “No, I’m not fine, I just need to get the fuck away from him for a minute.”

A minute… A minute?!

Is this ever going to fucking end?

On her last word, the door slams in your face. You stand in the middle of the room, catching the breath that you’d essentially been holding for the past five minutes. You can feel a cold sweat beading up on your face as you replay everything that happened and all the horrible decisions you’ve made. The look on Y/N’s face just now… All of it came rushing back as you felt so out of control of your life, you nearly blacked out with regret. Regret for even saying yes to that date with Isla all those years ago. Regret for allowing her to stay here this long, and using her as a toy to make Y/N jealous. But mostly for what you did last night. Stupid, stupid. 

The thought of having sex with her last night churns your stomach, and that’s how you know for a fact that you never want to have her in that way ever again. No matter how well you mesh together in that capacity. The way you feel when you’re with Y/N trumps it altogether, the emotions she drags from you outshining everything you ever had with Isla by a landslide. 

Suddenly, things make a little bit of sense. Suddenly, a tiny bit of clarity hits your swirling mind. You feel as though you could harness all of the negative feelings harboring themselves within you right now, march downstairs and find Y/N, throwing everything to the wayside as you confess your feelings for her. Tell her exactly how you feel. God damnit, do you…? No, the feeling is too strong. It’s more than that. It’s an overwhelming feeling of respect for everything that she is, everything that she ever will be. All the beauty she naturally carries and the pride she has within herself. And you’re fucking whipped for her.

But you don’t even deserve to give her that satisfaction. She deserves the world. She deserves you at your best, rid of all your demons and baggage and horrible moods. And way deep down, deeper than it’s even comfortable enough to think about, you know that Murph is probably giving that to her. He’s probably giving her fun, and comfort, and making her laugh… He’s probably loving her just the way she should be loved, the way you could be loving her.

That realization doesn’t help the fact that you feel like pressing your boot against his face, though. 

You walk over and pick your phone up from the floor, already expecting the worst. It’s cracked and damaged, the screen resembling a perfect spider web on the corner. “Goddamnit,” you breathe as you fall back down onto the bed. Just as you’re catching your breath, the alarm on your phone goes off, letting you know that you have a smooth fifteen minutes to get dressed and downstairs to meet the rest of the guys to head to soundcheck. 

You wonder what Y/N is doing right now. Is she crying, still? Or is she with Murph, letting him comfort her for something he has absolutely nothing to do with? The whole thing puts another sickening feeling in your stomach as you run your hand over your face, knowing that you need to take the fastest shower known to man. 

Your phone dings with another notification, and you’re surprised the thing even wants to make noise right now. You look down to see Josh’s name in the groupchat. You carefully slide your thumb across the shattered screen, cursing yourself for not putting a protector on it while you had the chance.

Josh

9:46AM: Good morning bitches! It’s a beautiful day! Get your asses downstairs

You roll your eyes at his positivity as you drag your body up to stand. As you make your way into the bathroom and start the shower, you hear your phone sound with a different notification. 

The screen is lit up with something that used to bring you so much joy, but now seems to be a vessel for communication that sends a wave of sadness straight to your gut. 

‘Y/N Added A Song to Your Shared Playlist: 🐥’

A song you hadn’t even thought about since high school, ‘Don’t Speak’ by No Doubt. 

She didn’t want to talk. This is her way of telling you to stay away.

You let your phone fall back down onto the counter as you listen to the song play out, already dreading the fact that your day is only going to get much, much worse.

—

HER POV

Your entire body feels numb as you rush out of the elevator door, your eyes blurred and sticky from fighting back tears once again. 

How fucking could he? Is everyone lying to you? He must really still love Isla, nothing makes any fucking sense…

You’re pacing down the ground floor hall to your room, hoping to the heavens that you don’t run into anyone along the way. You bring your hands up to cover your face, your frozen fingertips burning against the warmth of your face. It’s almost as if the rage you feel has manifested itself, ready to fly free as you replay the scene you’d just walked in on over and over in your mind. 

Isla is so gorgeous… perfect in every sense of the word. Of course he slept with her, how could he not? The look on his face once he realized it was you washed over you again and again, embarrassed and ashamed, already mourning every single thought of what could have been.

You didn’t want to see him. You didn’t want to speak to him. Ever again. You pulled out your phone and pulled up the music app, opening your shared playlist and adding the only song that you can think of at the time that would get straight to the point of telling him not to bother you anymore. Don’t Speak.

It felt sudden, it felt jolting… especially considering the rollercoaster of emotions the two of you had shared since he made this playlist on the plane. So many ups and downs in so little time. You had to give him that, at least. He’s made you feel more than anyone else has in a long, long time.

Like an old friend you truly didn’t want to see, someone presented themselves in front of you, grabbing at your arms with their strong, steady hands. Even through the blurriness of your tears and the racking of sobs in your chest, you knew that it was Ezra. 

“Baby, whoa whoa, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” he begged as you cursed him for happening to find you in the hallway. “Come here, why are you crying?” he asks, trying his best to take you in his arms. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine, Murph. I just– I’m fine, promise!” You try to play it off by sounding more sincere than the situation constituted, but there was no way you could divulge the actual reason for your unhappiness. 

“No you aren’t, baby… Tell me, you want me to walk you back to your room?” he purred, his normally gruff voice now calm and comforting.

“No, I swear, I’m just having a moment. But thank you, I’m–I’m almost there, anyway…” his arms were gently wrapped around you as you finally met his eyes, pleading and full of so much worry that it almost made you cry even harder. This sweet, sweet man, caring so much as to stop what he was doing and console you. 

The two of you walk a few paces more in the direction you’d been headed, his body language telling you that he was still yet very concerned. “You sure you don’t wanna tell me what’s wrong?” he asks, his deep brown eyes scanning yours.

You purse your lips, using both hands to wipe away the remnant tears as you try to dry yourself up. “I just… can’t.”

He nods slowly, “Alright, babe.” He cups your face, using both thumbs to wipe away your tears as he bends down to your level. “You don’t have to tell me… let’s just get you back inside, okay?”

You nod, letting him pull you further down the hall. “This the room?” he asks. 

“Yeah, this one here,” you say as you pull your room key from your pocket. You unlock and open the door, wanting nothing more than to crash into the room and cry alone in peace. Murph stands at the doorway, not wanting to be too forward and let himself all the way in, all the while still wearing that horrified look of worry. 

You turn to him, placing a soft hand to his chest. “Thanks, Murph. I promise, I’m fine. I’m just being a girl, ya know. Hormones and stress and whatnot,” you lie, making you feel the strangest sense of guilt. 

His soft smile makes butterflies erupt in your stomach, his strong arms reaching all the way around you and embracing you in a warm and comforting hug. “I had a really good time, last night. Been thinkin’ about you all morning, thought about you all night…” he says softly. “Just kinda threw me for a loop when I saw you crying, after I left you that note I just thought–”

“Well you thought wrong,” you interrupted him. “That was the sweetest thing to wake up to. I was actually really upset that you’d left so early…”

He smiles again, this time with a bit more relief. “Really? I mean, I’m sorry… duty called and I just couldn’t wake you up. You looked so pretty and peaceful,” his words are soft as he pulls a few strands of hair behind your ear. “You sure you aren’t mad at something I did? You don’t regret last night?”

You shake your head, feeling a little clarity. “No. No regrets.” His sweetness makes you want to melt into a puddle. You’ve really never had someone show affection in the same manner as Murph. “I’ll see you later?” you ask as he steps back from the threshold. 

“Yeah, babe. Hope you feel better.” And with a sweet wink, he’s disappearing back down the hall. 

You feel hysterical as you fall face-first into your bed sheets, letting the tears you held back find their place in your eyes once again. You don’t really deserve to cry, as you’ve found another route of happiness in Murph, but still yet, you allow yourself to be upset at the fact that Jake had the audacity to be intimate with Isla again after so much time telling you how much he didn’t want her anymore. 

So you cried, for a long while you cried… before you decided all of your tears were being wasted on something you had no business being upset about. You drag yourself from the bed and begin running a bath, throwing in a few pumps of body wash to make a bubble bath. You toss your clothes onto the floor and test the temperature, finding it to be perfectly scalding hot.

As you let your muscles sink down into the velvety smooth bubbles and hot water, you realize that you haven’t even told Ruth about your night with Murph, yet. You dial a FaceTime call, propping your phone safely behind a few bottles as you cover your exposed self with the white fluffy bubbles. 

“Hey bitch. Oh my god, are you naked?!” she wails when you finally see her face lighting up the screen. 

“No, Ruth, I have my clothes on in the bathtub. Yes, I’m naked you idiot,” you reply with a laugh as you pull your hair on top of your head. 

“Ugh, I love you but I don’t love you that much. Anyway, what’s up? Why is your face red?” she asks as she crunches down on a baby carrot.

You just stare at her on the screen, waiting for her to read your mind. 

“Have you been crying? You’ve been crying, why? What happened? Assface Jerkhead Guitar boy? Don’t tell me Muscles Van Gorgeous made you mad… which one? Which one’s life am I sabotaging?” she asked in succession, making a smile find your face for the first time in a day. 

“Neither Ruth, neither…” you sighed. “I just… I finally hooked up with Murph last night.”

“Oh my GOD! You’re kidding. Fuck yes, okay… how was it? Where? After the concert?” she asks as she adjusts herself in her seat and pulls her feet up underneath her.

“Yes, after the concert. We had an excellent time… and I managed to make Jake jealous, somehow. He was with Isla of course, and I guess he saw me and Murph getting comfy and he fucking texted me, Ruth. Asking me what the hell I thought I was doing?” Your hand flew up into the air above the bubbles as you spoke. “Anyway, I ignored him. And me and Murph kinda… had a rendezvous in his truck in the parking garage of the hotel.”

“You sly bitch…” she growls cutting her eyes. “Okay, and how was it? Was he everything you ever dreamed of?”

You nodded hard. “Yeah, he was…” you filled your cheeks up with air. “Fucking great, honestly. He’s so nice and sweet, but I could tell he has another side about him, ya know?”

“He a freak, ain’t he? Tell me he a freakkkkk, Y/N…”

You laugh. “I don’t know about that, but he definitely isn’t vanilla, thank god. Anyway umm… So this morning, I remembered that Jake added a song to the playlist last night that was basically saying he didn’t want to fight. And I didn’t either. So I decided that I would go and try to clear the air with him while Isla was there, there was no way I was going to leave things like they were. So, I went down into the lobby and got coffee for him and Isla. I was just going to drop it off and do my due diligence and apologize… leave it at that so they could go on with their lives.”

“You got her a coffee?! Okay, ballsy! I hope you spit in it…”

“RUTH ANN! Take that back!” you yell, letting it echo through the bathroom.

She shrugs. “I’m just sayin’. Continue…”

“Annnnnyways, Isla opened the door, and she was standing there, half naked and wrapped up in their bedsheets. Jake was um. Getting dressed behind her.” You feel a bit sorry for yourself as you pick up some bubbles in your palm, blowing them into the air and watching as they fall, joining the others in the sea of soapy white suds. 

“That dog.” Ruth growls. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

“Nope.”

“So what did you do?” she asks, sounding a bit defeated herself as she cupped her chin in her hands. 

You sigh hard as you rub your wet hands over your face. “I put the coffees down, stormed off, added “Don’t Speak” by No Doubt to the playlist so he would get the message to leave me the hell alone, and then Murph found me in the hall. Saw me crying. Thought he’d done something wrong.”

“No, not my sweetums Erza! He could never! Did you tell him he was perfect and beautiful and kiss him?”

You laugh at her ability to always keep things so lighthearted. “Yes, well kind of. I told him that I was just being a crazy woman with crazy woman feelings. Bless his heart, he is the actual sweetest. Anyways, now I’m calling you.”

“So, you’re pissed. And you’re crying. So what are we gonna do?” she presses.

You sigh, your mind traveling a million miles a minute as you wish you could just pull the drain and let yourself flow down the pipes with your bathwater. “I don’t know, Ruth. I tried, I really did.”

“Okay, here’s the plan,” she brushes her hands against one another. “Murph has done nothing wrong, right? He’s innocent, here. Maybe he deserves all of your attention.”

“Yeah but I don’t want to even associate with the male species right now, Ruth! I hate them all,” you bellow through a fake forced laugh. 

“Okay. So just keep doing your job and try your best and just see how everything goes. But don’t be a bitch to Murphy, he gives good D and we want to keep that momentum,” she says. 

You cover your face with your hands again. “Ruth, I swear to god… Ugh. Listen, I have to get out of here and get dressed. See what other fresh hell awaits me at this next show.”

“Ok, boss. Clean it up, add more feminine energy songs onto the playlist. Maybe some Alanis Morrissette or Fiona Apple perhaps? Little Miranda Lambert? Let him know that you are a bad bitch that don’t need no man?”

“I’m hanging up Ruth! Love you!”

“Adios, whore!!!” she yells back as you reach up and press the red button, taking a breath before pulling the plug of the tub. You realize it’s time to put on your game face, deciding that making it through these next few shows without another damned argument was going to prove more difficult than you anticipated.

—

JAKE POV

Though your mind feels like mush, your hands feel like they’re razor sharp, going through the motions of soundcheck with ease. Sam’s only shot you a couple of side-eyes as he apparently has picked up on your bad mood, but you hope that he brushes it off. 

You’d spent the majority of soundcheck eyeballing the crew from behind your tinted glasses, watching as Murph is hovering a lot differently than he normally is. That’s interesting… 

Your suspicions are justified as you watch Y/N walk past him in a hurry, and his entire body lights up as he turns into her, resting his hand quickly on her lower waist as she giggles and pulls his hand away. Nail, meet coffin.

Fuck. Yeah. They…

Danny was right. They definitely slept together. You can see it in their body language. God damnit. 

But, what the hell are you gonna say? You have no dog in that fight. You think about asking her about it, being transparent in the matter, now knowing that she knows you slept with Isla. You truly think about it as you slip your guitar strap over your head and hand it back to your tech, watching her intently from across the large room as she does her duties. 

“Hey, man. C’mere a second,” you hear Sam’s hushed voice in your ear. You’re snapped from your thoughts as you follow behind him, wondering what the hell he needs to talk about. He turns to make sure you’re behind him and you flash him a puzzled look, so he lifts his hand up and nods for you to just follow.

You follow him to the side doors and outside, watching as he stands with his back against the wall of the building. He fishes his hand in his pocket and pulls out his smokes, lighting one and inhaling a puff more quickly than he usually would.  You close in on him, his eyes working to search around to make sure you’re alone. He looks a bit anxious as he offers you a hit.  

“What’s up?” you ask him, your heart rate picking up a little as you lift your sunglasses to your head. His face is contorted and panicked, something you rarely see out of him, especially right before a show. “You alright?”

His smoke blows quickly from in front of his face as you inhale some yourself. “Yeah, ahh, no… not really? Need your advice again, I think… Remember when I busted into your room that night drunk off my ass and chattering on about… ya know….”

You nod slowly, recounting the night all too well. “I remember.” 

He clenches his jaw together as his eyes continue to scan. “It’s gotten worse, man. I dunno, Lyla is just… urgh, she’s grating on my nerves. I don’t know what it is lately, but it’s like we’re suddenly two completely different people. We argue a lot, we never agree on anything… She's one person with me, and a complete other in front of everyone else. She makes me feel so guilty, man. Wants to settle down and start a family and shit when that was the first thing we talked about when we got together, that I can’t promise that stuff right now. She makes me resent myself, our careers, being with you guys… I get no support whatsoever, anymore. And it always feels like she’s hiding something from me. Completely different wavelengths. And it’s like I don’t even wanna be around her… I swear I’ve kinda almost lost…”

“Lost all attraction to her?” you finish for him.

He nods. “Yeah. Exactly. Isn’t that awful of me? Like why did this happen out of nowhere?”

You ponder his question, sympathizing with him more than he even knows. “It probably didn’t come out of nowhere, Sam. It’s probably been festering for a while.” You eye him as you pass his cigarette back. 

He shuffles his feet around as the wind picks up. “Is this how you feel with Isla?” he mumbles.

“Yeah, kinda, but worse. Like, way, way worse. And I kinda fucked it up even more last night…” you admit, suddenly feeling like you had to tell somebody.

“Oh no, what did you do?”

You swallow harshly, the memories of your lips all over her body last night now making you feel sick all over again. You look back up to him with eager, telling eyes. 

“No, Jake. You didn’t. You slept with her? After all–”

“Yeah, Sam, fuck. I did. It was a complete moment of weakness. I swear, I don’t know what it is about her, but she lures me back in every single fucking time, and I hate it. I swear, I hate it. I hate myself for it. But it happened, and I regret everything about it. And then Y/N fucking had to walk into my room this morning and see Isla half fucking naked…”

“Ohhhh my god, no!” Sam yells with a little bit of a smile on his face, his hand shooting up to cover his mouth. “You’re kidding me, wow.”

“Yeah. Yeah, laugh all you want. I royally fucked everything up so horribly I don’t even know what to do with myself,” you wave a hand in his face as you physically feel the pressure on your shoulders. 

“Damn,” he finally relents, “You are worse off than I am. Sorry.”

You take a deep breath, shaking away the negative thoughts and feelings. “S’alright, I guess.”

“You ever think that Ly and Isla are like, master conspirators but also just like… are trying to lock us down or something?” he asks, his question actually throwing you for a loop. 

“What do you mean?” you ask, running the dead cigarette butt along the concrete to extinguish it. 

“I don’t know. Since we’ve been on this tour, don’t you feel like things have changed with those two? I mean they’ve been best friends since they could walk, and everything with you and Isla back home, now she is acting almost just the same? Doesn’t it feel a little bit strange to you? Almost like they plan on making sure of the fact that they’re going to be here for the long haul?” he says. The thought hadn’t really crossed your mind, much, but now that he mentions it… 

Sam always has had a way with seeing the end results of a situation before they even play out, picking up on people’s intentions before they even portray them. It kind of all makes sense, though. The two of them planning Isla’s trip here behind your backs, both of them being extremely needy but ignorant to the fact that you and Sam are inherently becoming more and more unhappy, not caring one bit about the state of your wants and needs…

It suddenly all makes sense. 

“Have you been being careful, Sam…” you say without an ounce of question in your voice. 

“Yeah. Definitely.”

“Good. I think you might be onto something… some stupid master plan that they have going, something just feels off,” you say, turning your back to the wind. 

“It most definitely does. And honestly, I don’t think Mia has a damn thing to do with it,” he says. 

You shake your head. “Me neither.”

“Are we crazy?” he asks, tilting his head to the side. 

“No. I think we should trust our guts. I already told Isla to get the fuck away from me this morning and go find you guys… Who knows where she even ended up,” you move to make your way back inside. 

“They ran off. Haven’t seen them since,” he says as he follows you. “I do think you should go and talk to Y/N, though.”

You stop in your tracks, hearing him suggest that. “What? Why?”

“Because, stupid, you really like her. And I really like her. And I’m sorry I caused that big dramatic episode back in Ireland. That was uncalled for. But you should go clear it up, she might appreciate you being forward about it.”

The thought alone makes your joints feel stiff, the dread weighing heavily on you. Maybe you should…

“I think she’s cozied up to Murph, now. Not sure she’d even want to be in my presence if she didn’t have to be,” you whisper as you reenter the main part of the building. Your face grows hot at the mention of Murph’s name, still feeling that deep residual jealousy.

“You might be surprised,” he shrugs. “Seems to me like you guys just used other people for retaliation. That alone has to mean something.”

Just like the universe had stepped in when you needed it least, you turn the corner and run right into Y/N. “Oh, fuck, sorry,” you apologize as she nearly drops the pile of towels in her hands. You watch as Sam walks away behind her, mouthing ‘perfect timing!’.

“Don’t worry about it,” she barks as she tries to keep making her way past you. 

“Hey, Y/N,” you stop her, completely unknowing of what the hell you are going to say, but taking Sam’s advice anyway. “Can we… Can I–”

“No, Jake. We can’t. Please leave me alone and let me do my job,” she says with a hint of sadness in her voice, but still enough force that you don’t want to press too much. 

You let her pass, watching her as she saunters quickly down the hall. “I miss you, Y/N…” you say, the echo of your voice reverberating off the walls. She slows her pace, and barely turns. If you’re going to say something at all, you’d better say it now. All in the open.

“I fucked up. I fucked up badly. And I’m sorry. There will never be anything I can say to take any of that back. And I know you probably don’t want a damn thing to do with me anymore, and if that’s so, then I can respect it. But I just wanted you to know that, Y/N. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long, long time. You make me crazy. You make me think about things in a way that I’ve never thought about before.” You take a breath as her eyes meet yours, full of hurt and a sorrow that swallows you right up. You take the opportunity to take a few steps toward her, closing the space between you just a little. 

“When you’re around I feel a happiness that nothing else in the world can give me, or has ever given me. Nothing compares. And that’s the god’s honest truth. I don’t– I don’t let people get to me, Y/N. But ever since you came into my life there was nothing I could do about it. You knocked me down. And I know that you’ve… moved on, from…whatever this was. And, I get that… just know that I am so sorry. And I’ve found clarity, and even if you decide that I’m worthless to you, just know that you always meant more to me than I was ever able to explain.”

The hall is silent as your rambling comes to an abrupt halt, the feelings of defeat and hopefulness simultaneously taking up space in your chest. Her eyes are still deep and hollow, and you watch as her lip quivers just a little as she glances at the gap still between you. Her eyes shoot to the ground as her hand comes up to wipe a stray tear away. “Have a good show, Jake.”

—

A while later, you’re gathered in the jam room strumming on an acoustic as your eyes are focused on nothing at all, the air drying out your corneas so harshly that you have to remind yourself to blink every minute or so. You’ve replayed your conversation, well, speech, to Y/N earlier in the hall probably over a hundred times now, wishing you had said other things, explained a little differently, scooped her up in your arms and told her she is everything you have ever wanted and more… 

But the thoughts become interrupted every few minutes as Josh would yell something particularly loudly or Danny would hit a hi-hat a bit too harshly. 

“Hey,” Josh says as he’s suddenly in your bubble, snapping his fingers in front of your face. “Staring contest with the wall?”

“Yeah, and I’m fucking losing,” you say as you twist the guitar down to rest on the floor. You bring your thumb and fingers up to pinch the bridge of your nose, realizing that you need to start getting your energy up a bit so as not to make a fool of yourself on stage when the time comes. 

“You gonna make it? Want me to slap you across the face a bit? I could ask Ty to, it works for me, sometimes…” he offers with a chuckle. 

You smile, knowing that you quite literally do need a physical slap in the face right now. “Nah, thanks though. Probably just need a stiff shot of a spirit or two.” You pull your battered phone from your pocket to check the time. 

“Mother of god, what happened to your phone?!” Josh yells, pulling it down to inspect it. You give him a tight smile and raise your eyebrows. “Fuck, did things get bad again?” 

You inhale sharply, “Oh yeah. Really bad. Caught her going through my phone and my texts. Sent me over the edge, obviously.”

“Shit,” he breathes. “You break it, or did she?”

“I did. Threw it at the fucking wall,” you laugh at yourself, and the stupid memory.

“She see anything incriminating?” 

“You don’t even wanna know what she fucking saw…” you shake your head, hearing another commotion as Mia, Lyla and Isla all three enter the room. Just the feeling of Isla’s presence sends a cold chill over your body, one that’s full of some of the deepest unexplainable distaste for someone that you have ever felt. “Well, if it isn’t the Three Musketeers!” you announce spitefully, shoving your guitar into its stand. You’re met with Josh’s eyes the size of dinner plates. 

You feel fire rushing through your veins as you realize your body is putting up a protective barrier for itself, a defense so definite that you feel like you are outside of your own body as your legs carry you to stand right in front of Isla.

“Why are you here? I thought I made it very clear that I told you to stay away from me,” you spit, uncaring that you are about to do this in front of everyone.

She scoffs, crossing her arms and avoiding your eyes. “You didn’t mean that, Jake. Come on.”

“Oh, I meant it. I meant every single word. Actually, why are you even here? Why did you follow me to Europe when before I left I told you to please vacate my home, and not contact me?” you bark, feeling a confident fire rising within your chest as the words fell like a venomous poison.

The room is dead silent. 

“Jake, quit messing around, are you really doing this right now?” she avoids your gaze again, and you know that you are getting to her. She’s normally held very true to being able to hold eye contact, even when she’s lying. 

“Yeah. Yes. I’m really doing this right now. We’re all family here, huh? Let’s talk about it in a place where you can’t twist my words, where you can’t manipulate me into thinking I’m crazy, hmm?” you say, earning another scoff from her. “Did I not ask you to please move out, to please not contact me, to please understand that I wanted to end this relationship?”

She rolls her eyes and her tongue around in her mouth as her body language stiffens. “You told me you wanted a break, not to break up…”

“Oh but I did, Isla. You just decided that that break, that I agreed to simply to get you off my back so I could leave my house to get on a fucking plane, mind you… ended exactly when you wanted it to end. Without any conversation with me on said subject. Isn’t that right?” You are reeling, your words are absolutely burning your mouth, but it’s as though you aren’t speaking them. Your conscience is doing the talking for you. “Who said you got to make that decision on your own?”

“Jake, please stop, you don’t mean any of this… we had such a good night last night, please!”

“No, Isla! I won’t stop. This is what I want. This is what I have wanted for a long, long time. Does everyone hear me?!” You motion around yourself. “I don’t want you around me, I don’t want you in my home when I get back to it, I didn’t invite you here, and everything that has happened between us since you got here has been a mistake. A horrible mistake that has done nothing but ruin everything for me. Do I need to be any clearer? Or do I need to write it down for you?” Your chest is heaving with rage, and pride in yourself. 

You glance around to everyone else again, still completely silent as you watch Isla’s face finally drop. “Is that crystal clear to everyone?” You feel all of their heads nodding slowly in agreement. “Good, great. Isla, is that clear?” you ask her directly. 

Finally, finally… she nods. “Yeah, fucking crystal, Jake. I won’t bother you ever again. Good luck fucking up your whole career…” she says as Lyla rips her out of the room by the arm, toting her along. 

“We won’t let him! Because that’s what family does! We support each other!” Sam yells at the both of them as they exit the door. After he speaks, he meets your eyes with the biggest stupid grin on his face, as if he was seeing if you heard him. You hear a snicker from Ty and Josh. 

Alright, maybe this went better than you thought it would.

The tension in the room seems to subside a little as everyone catches their breath. “Mia, do you want to follow them?” you ask as she cozies up to Danny’s side. 

She shakes her head. “No. I’m staying here.” Danny kisses the top of her head and sends you a grateful smile. 

“Good. Okay then.”

Just then you hear someone clear their throat from the doorway, breaking all of your attention away to see Y/N standing there, somewhat awkwardly. 

“Um, sorry. Sam, Danny, they need you back in sound for a second,” she announces, clasping her hands behind her back. You watch as they both stand from their seats to head that way, Mia, Josh and Ty following closely behind to give you the room. 

It’s tense for a second as the two of you stand eye to eye, neither of you daring to speak first. Still riding on your confident high from the seconds prior, you decide to be the one to break the ice. 

“How much did you hear?”

She clears her throat again. “Enough.”

You lick your lips as you sit back down on the couch, replacing your guitar on your lap. “Sorry you had to see all that drama.”

“It’s okay,” she says, slowly making her way toward you and taking the opposite seat on the couch. “I think… I had some time to think about what you said earlier…”

“Oh?” you ask, strumming away. 

“Yeah. I was upset this morning, Jake. I can’t believe you… after everything you told me about her, and your relationship, you slept with her…”

“Yeah, and you just saw I admitted that was a grave mistake. I have absolutely no excuse for that, Y/N. There is nothing I can say to explain my behavior, other than a delicious mix of alcohol, old habits, being too fucking horny to function, and so insanely jealous of seeing you with Murph that I didn’t even care what the hell happened to me next.”

She stays quiet as your tune fills the awkward silence in the air. 

“Just tell me you slept with him, Y/N. Rip off the bandaid, just tell me so I can process it and get it over with,” you beg, your voice flat and blank as you finally make eye contact with her. 

“Yeah, I did. I slept with him,” she says. 

You nod slowly as you begin your staring contest with the wall again, your fingers aimlessly traveling across your familiar strings as your heart plummets to the floor. “Was it for retaliation?”

“No, Jake, I– It wasn’t. I like Ezra, he treats me really well, and we get along–”

“Oh, Ezra, huh?! We’re on a first name basis, now. Interesting…” you say with probably a little too much bite. 

“Oh don’t fucking start, Jake,” she complains. “You have no leg to stand on, right now…” 

You hold up a defensive hand. “I’m not starting, I’m not arguing,” you continue playing, speaking softly. “I understand why you did what you did, and I’m in no place to have an opinion on something that isn’t my business, right sweetheart?”

She nods. “Right.”

Her radio buzzes, announcing ten minutes to stage. You laugh through your nose at the horrible timing, standing as you place your acoustic on the stand again. You turn to her, taking her chin in your hand as you peer deeply into her eyes. “I’ll be here when you realize he can’t give you what I can. When you realize you can’t stay away from me… When you realize everything I ever said was true, and that I’ll grovel at your feet until time stands still if it’ll make you realize the depth of my feelings for you.” You give her flushed face a couple shakes before you release it, stepping toward the doorway. “My wine’s in my bag, baby. Don’t let me down again.”

And with that, you race down the hallway, hearing the sound of your fans screaming your name, ready to give them, and her, the show of a lifetime.

HER POV

If there was any character in the entire world who made you feel as if you wanted to spout obscenities while clawing at their skin, shove their face into the dirt and curse their very name all in hopes that it will all resurface as an emotion of daunting, ferocious admiration, it would be Jake. 

He makes you want to run for the hills and desert life as you know it, not caring for anyone or anything that may be standing in your way as you jump over rocks and roots, swim through deathly waters and starve yourself for days on end if it meant that it would be him waiting for you in those very hills you were running toward. Your relationship has been nothing short of hateful, fervid and passionate, the both of you skirting along the lines of vengeance and intimacy so opposite of one another that the toxicity scares you. Or more, encourages you. 

Maybe it took the both of you performing grand acts of backstabbing for you to realize that maybe your feelings for him were more than you thought… Maybe being with another man has given you the push you needed to come to terms with the fact that no one has ever made you feel like Jake does. No one has ever made your heart beat as quickly, or your thoughts jumble so effortlessly. He’d put a spell on you, digging his claws into your skin while he raked you along for the ride, and you had hardly even noticed how deep the claws were. Until you watched him realize that he’d made a horrible, horrible mistake. 

Being stuck between a rock and a hard place is an understatement; being in a constant state of back-and-forth with Jake had become somewhat of a habit that you’d gotten used to, no matter how disgustingly painful it was to admit. But Murph… Ezra… the unexpected knight in shining armor who’s charm won you over more smoothly than you’d even realized was the part of the story that made it all worth reading. Wholesome, gorgeous, protective and sweet… he’s everything you could ever want in someone if they planned on sticking around for a while. 

But your chest didn’t burn for him the same way.. 

—

Later that night, after you’d obediently made Jake his wine, you join Ty on the side stage to watch the show in peace. You gave him a hefty rundown of everything that has happened the past few days, much the same as you’d given Ruth, without the dirty details, of course. He gave you much of the same advice that she had, telling you that though Jake would never hurt you on purpose, he knows that he made a mistake and would spend the rest of his days paying for it. It hurt to know that he was working to reassure you how real Jake is truly being with you, still. 

“I think I’m really just overwhelmed… I got myself into a mess that I can’t dig myself out of, you know what I mean?” you rant to him as you continued to watch the show. “I’m actually kind of happy the tour is almost over. I managed to get myself tied up in a love triangle that’s truly gotten me nowhere.”

“I dunno about nowhere, I’m not on his team, but Murph must really like you if he’s stuck with you through all this drama…” Ty said. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that Murph didn’t even know about your relationship with Jake. 

“Do you think I made a mistake, though? Do you think I pushed Jake away for ever?” you ask him, feigning on that same rocky edge. 

“No, babe. You didn’t make any mistakes. Do you not know what you’ve done for Jake? Look at him,” Ty motions toward him as he throws his guitar around. “You helped free him. Even if things don’t work out for you, look at him now. Without the burden of Isla tying him down.” You smirk as you do see a different kind of pep in Jake’s step as he performs his most beloved craft. 

Like he can hear your conversation, he looks your way, sending you a sweet smile and a wink as he bites his guitar pick between his front teeth. Even after all this bullshit…

You glance down at Murph, walking around the rail with Josh on his shoulders as he passes out white roses, smiling and interacting with their fans as if they were his own. 

God, you don’t deserve either one of them.

The guilt that has begun to eat you up sends another wave over your entire body, weighing heavily on your shoulders as you fight to ignore it.

Do you have to choose? Do you have to pick which one of these two men is more deserving of your love?

“What if I can’t choose?” you ask Ty over your shoulder, your arms crossed protectively over your chest. 

“Then don’t. You know what I want, and you know what Josh wants, but you have to put your own happiness first, babe. Maybe you should just choose yourself for a while…” he says, lying a sweet hand of comfort on your elbow.

Ty’s words resonate with you as your guilt brings another tear to your eye; you suddenly realize that you haven’t put your own happiness first in quite some time. The real kind. The genuine kind. Come to think of it, you can’t remember the last time you really felt like your absolute self. 

As the show wraps up, you make it a point to disappear on purpose, rushing to clean up the craft table and do your duties under the radar so that you can avoid any more conversation tonight. You retreat back to your room unscathed, ready to take it easy for the rest of the night with a book and a glass of cheap hotel wine. 

As you drown yourself in chapter 3 of a book you couldn’t really even name, you glance at your phone lying next to you on the bed, the screen quiet and black as you wonder why you haven’t received even a single text message tonight. Maybe everyone felt that you needed some space.

You poke at the screen to light it up, only finding your clock and lock screen looking back at you. You pick it up and roll to your back, mindlessly scrolling social media for a few minutes to numb your mind. You cringe a little as you see professional photographs from the show tonight already littering your instagram feed, photos of Jake honestly looking happier than he ever has.

‘You helped free him…’

Even if Ty’s words were only said to make you feel better, you can’t help but notice that even the photos from tonight really reflected it. You don’t want to take responsibility for it, but it felt nice to know that you might have played a part in helping him to finally realize he needed to stand up for himself, once and for all. 

You open the shared playlist, feeling the draw to add a song that said quite the opposite of the ones Ruth had suggested earlier. You scroll around, finally landing on one of your favorites, ‘Give It Time’ by Sierra Ferrell. You hope that he is comfortably laid in his hotel bed much the same as you, and that he gets the notification and feels a little bit better, knowing that you haven’t completely written him off quite yet. You hoped he would catch the drift that you need to step back for a while, reevaluate and recenter, separating yourself from anything and everything for a bit.

You scroll up to the top of the playlist, deciding to play it through from start to finish. “Interlude 1’, let’s revisit you…” you say to yourself as you turn the volume to medium and lie your head down into the pillows, listening to the lyrics of this otherwise very different song. You know this album is one of Jake’s absolute favorites, so maybe it will help to ease the pounding still rolling around in your chest. 

‘Like all good fruit, the balance of life

Is in the ripe and ruin…’

Wow. The ripe and ruin…

As the final sip of wine hits your system, your mind starts to spin and find clarity all at the same time. Suddenly those lyrics started to resonate with you. 

Ripe, fully prepared. Ready to endure, ready to uphold, sufficient in readiness. 

And ruin, devastation. Pure and utter collapse. The slow disintegration of all the mightiness that once was.

“Fuck..” you breathe in a whisper, running a hand over your eyes as the words settled in and felt real. “Was I the ruin all along? Did I ruin it all for myself?” You press pause on the song, suddenly unwilling to listen to any more. 

You flip back over and pick up your phone, bringing up your text thread with Ezra.

You

12:46AM: Hey, can we talk?

You fingers tap nervously as you wait a minute or so before seeing his text bubble appear. 

Ezra Murphy

12:49AM: Sure, want me to come to your room or

You

12:50AM: Let’s meet, there’s a really cozy fireplace in the lobby that I feel like I need to sit by

Ezra Murphy

12:50AM: See you in a few :) 🔥

It’s only minutes later that you watch as Ezra’s eyes poke around the room off of the lobby, searching for you and the fireplace. He’s in an old gray t-shirt with some type of worn off black lettering, and a pair of slouchy flannel sleeping pants. He looks absolutely delectable.

When his eyes finally find you, he smiles a little, waltzing over to sit beside you on the stone bench beside the fire.

“Are you wearing slippers, Ezra?” you ask, glancing down to his feet. 

“It’s 1:00 AM, of course I wasn’t gonna tie my boots back up. Plus, these are lined with fur, and they’re comfy as hell,” he grins as he kicks his sock-clad foot out for you to see. 

You giggle as you pull your knees up to your chest, eyeing him adoringly. This is going to suck…

“Is everything okay, babe?” he finally asks, turning his body toward you. “You’ve had me worried ever since I found you cryin’…”

You take a deep breath, preparing for the rage that you just knew he was going to display. “That’s because I was lying to you, Ezra.”

His eyes grow as his jaw falls open a bit, looking for a response. “Lying about what?”

“I was upset, I am upset. I– egh, I’ve actually kind of been lying to you for a while, now. Well, not lying, just– not divulging the whole truth,” you explain, watching as his eyes search for more answers. 

You turn completely and cross your legs, taking his hands in yours. “Before you got here, Murph, I uh… I was sleeping with Jake…” the words feel hollow as they burn your throat. “We had become kind of serious? In a way, things were like, moving sort of fast, in a good way and… as I’m sure you’ve noticed, he kind of… has had Isla this entire time,” you explain. Murph’s jaw moves sideways a few times as he crunches his eyes closed, shaking his head in confusion. 

“So wait wait wait, he cheated on her with you? I don’t really know the ins and outs of their relationships or anything but… I– that would make sense as to why he’s been a complete jackass to me lately… he was some kind of jealous,  fuck…” he rambles. 

“He has?!”

“Yeah, but, that’s beside the point…” he waves it off, resting his elbows on his knees as he leans forward. “Keep going…” 

“He didn’t necessarily cheat on her with me, he was under the impression that they had been separated for a while before she even came here, they were in an awful relationship, there was a lot of drama that I don’t really wanna get into right now, but. Nonetheless, he failed to divulge that she even existed. So I cut him off, a while before you even came around. Anyways, this morning I decided I would go to their room and drop off coffee and apologize and I found out that they had… ya know… after he’d said that he basically hated the ground she walked on.”

“So you– you used me? To get back at him?” 

“No no, you were a completely separate anomaly to me, Ezra. I’d already distanced myself from him once you came along. But– I just wanted you to know that that happened, and that’s why I was upset this morning, because I found out the hard way that he had slept with her even after telling me he had nothing for her anymore. I was just– a little fucked up over it…”

Murph shakes his head side to side as he huffs out a breath, looking around the room as he puts everything together. 

“Thank you for telling me, Y/N,” he says blankly.

“I should have told you a while ago. And I’m sorry, Murph. He shouldn’t be treating you badly, either,” you concede. 

“That part doesn't bother me too much. I’m used to my employers kind of treating me that way, but. Now I know why he’s had a change of heart. He saw me as a threat.”

“I don’t think you should look at it that way, Ez–”

“But he kicked Miss Isla to the curb…” he says, making you perk up. 

“How do you know that?” you ask.

“I had to escort her to the airport earlier, right before the show. She was a complete mess and wouldn’t even speak to me… word on the street was Jake told her she had to leave.”

You nod, realizing that he’d actually gone through with it this time. He’d actually made arrangements for her to be gone. 

“He really likes you, doesn’t he, Y/N?” he asks, his eyelids heavy as they meet yours in the light of the fire. “Otherwise he wouldn’t have sent her packing, otherwise he wouldn’t have been treating me like dirt…”

“I don’t know, Ezra, maybe. I can’t answer that for him,” you say honestly. “Everything’s just been so fucked up… I realized I was essentially a homewrecker, Isla flew off the handle, Jake was mad at her, I was mad at him… it was all just. A lot. And now I just– wanted to clear the air. With you, with everyone. I think I just need a little while to… ya know. Regroup.” Your heart hurts as you watch his face fall, you really don’t want this. You don’t want things to be this way. And then you remember the lyrics. Like all good fruit… 

“I’m so sorry about all of this, Ezra. I just want you to know that you weren’t some type of rebound or whatever, and I don’t want you to think I used you in retaliation. I was into you… am into you, very much so,” you explain with as much conviction as you can muster. “I hope you can understand where I stand with it all, right now.”

He’s silent for a second as he nods his head. “Thank you for listening to me, and not getting too mad at me, I hope. I’ve never met anyone else like you before, Ezra. You’re so easy, so laid back and sure of yourself. And I really appreciate you making me feel loved while our paths crossed.”

You can tell he’s a little distraught, but at the same time, you’ve got to ignore it. 

“I appreciate you telling me the truth, Y/N, even though I wish you would’ve done it a little sooner,” he smiles a side smirk, making your heart skip a beat. 

“I wish I would have too,” you say quietly, listening as the fire begins to crackle.

“So, what do you want?” he finally asks, his eyes full of false hope.

“I want– I think I just need to love myself for a little bit. Step back. I’m very much eaten up with guilt and strange taste right now, and I don’t want to put those vibes onto anyone else, if that makes sense,” you try your best to explain. “My mind is in so many places that I don’t think I can even think straight if I wanted to.”

He nods slowly, running a hand through his dark hair. “I get that. I could feel the tension within them, I understand.” He sends you a reassuring smile as he places a hand on your knee. “You were really good while you lasted, baby. Wish things could have gone a little differently. Don’t ever forget that,” he says. 

“I want to still stay friends, Ezra. Just because I’m distancing myself doesn’t mean we have to completely write each other off,” you laugh. “You brighten my days too much for me to forget about you.”

He stifles a laugh through his nose. “So, friends?” he asks, holding a hand out. 

“Yes. Friends. Please, I still need you to have my back,” you say with a joking tone.

“That won’t ever change, babe,” he says, standing the both of you up as you begin to walk to the elevator. You breathe a heavy sigh of relief as you stand outside the elevator doors, waiting for them to open so you can see him off. 

“Forgot you’re on the ground floor,” he says. “See you bright and early?”

You give him a quick salute. “Bright and early.” 

“Night, babe,” he says quietly, and you watch as the elevator doors close across the vision of his face. 

Back in your room, you tap your phone again, realizing that a good night’s sleep isn’t going to find you tonight. Oh well, you presume… a nap in your downtime will definitely be in the cards. Just as you’re getting comfortable in your puffy sheets, your phone buzzes with the first notification you’ve gotten all night. 

‘Jake has added a song to the shared playlist: 🐥’

Oh my god… he saw it. 

You unlock your phone and scroll to the bottom, seeing that he had added a song that you hadn’t heard in many years, one that reminds you of your high school years, going to your first festivals and discovering a new type of music that you’d yet to delve into.  ‘I Will Wait’ by Mumford and Sons. 

Of course. Of course he will wait. 

You feel a shudder of emotions that you can’t quite comprehend, knowing that despite it all, he still is sticking to his guns. 

…So you decide to stick to yours. 

You close the playlist, pulling up the itinerary for the remainder of the tour and pinning in certain places you want to visit, and things you want to see. Places you will most likely be visiting alone. Tears prickle at your eyes as you remember all the sweet things Jake had done for you, all the things that he’d said, all the love that you’d made… so for the second time today, you let yourself feel it. Let yourself bask in the sadness so that tomorrow, hopefully, you’ll have emptied all the tears you had left, leaving absolutely none left to cry.

—

December 7

Departing Lisbon, Portugal

You know those redemption scenes at the end of romcom movies where the main character is walking around, looking at all of their ex friends, ex foes, and exes, giving them all reassuring smiles and small waves while the sun shines above them, and upbeat pop music plays in the background?

That’s how the days following your conversation with Murph had gone. Exactly like that. The animosity that had been sewing itself into the fibers of everyone’s beings had suddenly up and left, being replaced with something more joyful than you could have anticipated. 

Everyone felt a new air of peace surrounding the last few shows, and you spent your time burying yourself in your work, instead of worrying about what kind of argument was right around the corner. 

Jake treated you like a friend and coworker, offering nothing more but cheerful ‘good mornings’ and ‘goodnights’, giving you space to cordially speak to him first, and avoiding adding any more songs to the playlist. Ezra acted like nothing at all had happened, and he even caught you in a hallway once, telling you that Jake had come to him and apologized for treating him so badly.

It truly seemed as though everyone had turned a new leaf. 

As you walk through the airport parking lot ready to catch the flight back home to Nashville, you suddenly feel Mia at your side. 

“Hey!” she chirps, the wind blowing her hair across her face. 

“Hey!” you respond with just as much glee. You hadn’t really gotten a chance to speak with Mia one on one since the day that Lyla and Isla left, you being left with the feeling that maybe she still held some distaste for you. 

“Hey listen uh, I was just wondering if you’d want to get some coffee with me… one day, when we get back home? There’s this new little shop around the corner from mine and Danny’s and I really wanna try it out, I’ve heard excellent things,” she says, catching you completely off guard. 

“Oh! Uh, yeah, sure! That sounds really fun, actually,” you say, not willing to turn her down in any way. 

“Great! Cool!” she replies as you both walk, a strange silence falling between you. “Hey um, I just… wanted you to know that I’m really sorry about how everything went down, with Isla and everything. I never really liked her, if I’m being honest, and… I just don’t want you to think that I’m that kind of person, too.”

Oh. Ohhhhh.

“Oh, no, Mia, you don’t have to apologize. Everything just got so fucked up and confusing and stupid, I think we were all just making really bad decisions and things just snowballed…”

“I agree. Still doesn’t make how she treated you any more right. How we all treated you. I should have told you about their master plan to get Isla here the minute they got her plane ticket. Poor Jake. I know now that she was so manipulative of him, and that is on me. I should have warned you both. I never even told Danny,” she admits, letting her face fall. 

“Seems like she manipulated more than just Jake then, huh?” you ask, suddenly making sense of it all. 

“Yeah, I think you’re right. Lyla is… she’s gone too, actually,” she says with a little bit of melancholy in her voice. “Broke things off with Sam. But I think he is like, really okay with it,” she snaps back into a laugh. 

“Is she?!” you squeal. “Wow, I guess I hadn’t even bothered to notice…”

“How things have changed, huh?” she asks as she opens the doors for you. “Anyways, I’ll see you on the plane. And I’ll text you one day later this week?”

“Yeah, sounds great. Thanks for chatting with me, Mia,” you say. 

“Sure thing, babe,” she says with a wink, darting off to find Danny and the rest. 

JAKE POV

“Are you positive that’s her seat?” you ask Paul quietly from the jetbridge, keeping an eye on her as you see her walking ten or so people back from you.

“Positive,” he says with a bit of sarcasm.

“Thank you. Good man,” you reply as you pat his shoulder, rushing ahead through the hordes of people boarding the plane ahead of you. 

You rush to find her seat, eyeing the rows as you finally find it. You shove your hand in your pocket, gripping the crisp hundred to make sure it’s still there, ready to be used just in case this goes south. There’s a middle aged man sitting in the seat beside hers, already kicked back comfortably with his headphones on. You tap his shoulder, getting his attention as he pulls his music away. 

“Hey, sorry to disturb you, but would you be interested in exchanging seats with me?” you ask with a little bit of haste in your voice. 

The man scoffs as he glances to his left. “It’s a window seat, buddy. Don’t think so,” he replies, pulling his headphones back up. 

“Please, sir… I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t really need to sit here,” you plead, hoping he can hear the urgency in your voice. But yet again, he meets you with nothing.

“Would this change your mind?” you ask, pulling out the hundred from your pocket and straightening it hard in his face. “Might get you a few cocktails at your layover… plus, I’d be switching you for first class.” You raise and lower your eyebrows a few times as you suck your lip in, hoping the last ditch effort will take effect. 

The man pauses and pulls his music away again. “First class? Why didn’t you say so?” he boasts, slapping his hand across the bill in your grasp as he stands and begins gathering his carry-on.

“Thank you, thank you,” you reply as you let him step by you, tossing your own backpack into the seat as you shake his hand. “Have a nice rest of your day, sir.”

“Sure thing,” he replies, and you know he was busy trying to figure out why you just paid him to take your first class seat. You plop into the uncomfortable chair, crossing your hands together as your elbows lie on the rests, waiting for her to approach the row. 

Your eyes close on their own accord as you pull your sunglasses back down, huffing a sigh of relief that phase one of your plan has officially commenced. Finally you feel her presence, gorgeous as ever as she is lost in her own little world, listening to her music and maneuvering her things between the tight rows of seats. She finally sits down beside you, completely unaware that it’s actually you sitting there. You smirk as she drops her bag, out of breath and flustered as she makes herself comfortable. How she doesn’t even clock you, you don’t know.

Just as she finally gets situated, her elbow knocks into yours, so you knock it back. “Excu– Jake?! What the hell are you– why are you sitting here? I thought they got you first class on this trip…” 

You smile with all of your teeth. “They did? You’re kidding, that explains why literally everyone else isn’t here…shit,” you playfully look around, hitting yourself in the head as if you hadn’t even realized. 

“Cut it, Jake. How did you mix up your own seat?!” she asks, wiping a few flyaways from her face. The smell of her perfume almost envelops you, sweet and sultry as you breathe her in for the first time in way too many days. 

“I didn’t mix it up. I just don’t like fucking with tradition,” you reply, crossing one leg over the other as you relax comfortably back into your seat. 

“Tradition?” she asks, her voice deflated as she rolls her eyes. 

“Yes. Tradition. We came to Europe on a plane side by side, we should leave Europe on a plane side by side. We shouldn’t fuck with it, might be bad luck,” you say cheekily. 

She smiles, but only a little bit. “Jake, this entire trip was bad luck, honestly…” 

You take a deep breath in agreement. “Touche, okay, but what if this plane ride home reverses that, and makes it good luck?” you ramble, honestly just saying words at this point. Anything to make her smile again. Make her cheeks turn that perfect shade of blush again… “We can’t discount fate, Y/N. It’d be foolish to do so. And neither you, nor I, are foolish.”

She bites her teeth together, stretching her neck. “You’re really crazy, you know that?” she finally smiles wholly. 

There she is.

You rustle with your watch hanging on your wrist, noticing it’s almost time for takeoff. “I know. But can you blame me?”

She shakes her head. “No, no I really can’t, after getting to know you and all your baggage…”

“Ohhhh! My baggage, huh?” you cross your legs again. “Well I’m here to tell you babe, that the only baggage I am bringing home is this backpack. And my suitcases. And the thousands of dollars worth of guitars and gear. But that’s it! That’s all this time!” 

Finally, she laughs. A real laugh. “Again, you’re really stupid. And honestly, why should I even believe you?” she counters. “Seems as though our relationship was solely based on lies from the get-go, hm?” Her voice had fallen a bit toward the end there, and you swear you felt a dagger shoot through your chest for the thousandth time in the past month. Twisting and turning itself as you realize the guilt is never going to go away. 

Her eyes meet yours with a heaviness, almost as if she’s asking you to pour your heart out, one more good time. After all, the morning she came to your room with three coffees seemed as if it was going to be full of good intention, but you just never gave her the chance to say her piece.

“I deserve that,” you nod. You feel the plane begin to shake as it prepares to take off, the pilot coming over the loudspeaker to announce departure. The two of you look out the window as the early morning sun begins to rise over the city, the tall buildings casting long shadows that look as if they reach for miles. You feel her shoulder press against yours as the plane begins to rush down the runway, finally taking off to make its way above the clouds.

You rise higher and higher in the sky, the bottomless pit sensation making your stomach fall as you ascend. When the plane finally evens out and your vertigo subsides, you notice her eyes still trained on the scenery outside. “Come on, look how gorgeous…” you suggest, urging her to lean closer and get a better view of what’s now below you.

She hesitantly leans again, the smell of her shampoo prevalent in her still-damp hair as she reaches across you. You breathe it in, memorize it, savor it as you know that this flight could be the very last time you ever feel her closeness. You feel her sigh as you both take it all in, leaving the place that saw both the downfall and redemption of one of the most convoluted experiences of your life thus far.

“It’s truly beautiful there, isn’t it?” she mutters, almost too quietly to hear. 

“Yeah, it really is…” you agree as you feel her relax back in her seat again, breathing a sigh of relief as the plane hits a little bit of turbulence. 

You decide to take the opportunity to speak again during this moment of shared adoration, hoping that the peacefulness of being miles in the sky mixes well with the eagerness you both have to finally get home again. 

“Y/N, I’m gonna say something, and you don’t have to believe me, fuck, you don’t even have to listen. And I know I probably sound like a broken record at this point, but… from the bottom of my heart, I want you to know that it’s the god’s honest truth. All of it.” You swallow as your words sound sheepish, quiet in the grand scheme of things when all you want to do is yell from the rooftops if it’d mean she’d listen. “Okay?”

“Oh–Okay…” she spouts, turning a little to show her attention. Her hands are gripping each other tightly, wringing against themselves as she knows she can’t get up and walk away from this. 

“I know I lied to you, held out on the absolute truth from the very beginning. That wasn’t me, Y/N, it never was me. I’d lived in this… this bubble for a really long time. Even though I thought I was happy, I knew deep down that I wasn’t, and it was only getting worse as time went on. I became the worst version of myself, Isla did too. I think in some weird, fucked up way, we brought the worst out in each other. The toxicity. And hers came from a place of possession, mine came from a place of my inability to communicate with her, I guess. Either way, I know I’ve told you the whole story a hundred times, but it took this trip for me to realize how much more me I finally felt when I boarded that plane to leave that day. And how much more me I felt when we started talking. Fuck, it was like I was physically finally far enough away from my demons that the clouds kind of dissipated, I don’t know.” 

You finally make a bit of eye contact with her, and she gives you a small smile, placing her hand on your arm as she knows this is a difficult topic. Either way, you persevere. 

“It hurts to admit this, and I’m not sure that I have ever really said it out loud, but… I’m fully aware of the fact that I was in somewhat of an emotionally manipulative relationship, and I allowed myself to fall victim to it, for everyone around me to fall victim to it. I know that I’m stronger than that. Did I have my faults? Of course, I’m not blind to that realization, either. But when you fall into that routine, it sort of becomes you, I guess. And I know for a fact that the decisions I’ve made in the past few weeks are just the ghosts of that. The lingering feelings, the bullshit I was too stupid to see past.” Your voice is grated as you give her your speech, one that you know you would give a thousand times if it would give you her forgiveness. Her hand flits up underneath her chin as she rests it, giving you her full attention now, her face riddled with concern and sympathy. 

“Sorry, I can shut up if you want me to, babe,” you laugh. 

“No no, go on, please…” she says, reaching to take your hand in her grasp. Her palms, so warm and inviting as she gives your fingertips a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay.”

You huff an exhale. “Y/N, I am not kidding you in the least when I tell you that you helped pull me from that place. Helped me realize so much. You put a mirror in front of my face that gave me the courage to finally extract myself from that situation. You–You made me feel the blood in my veins again, made me feel that urge in the pit of my stomach to want again, in every sense of the word. Hell, you can ask Josh, I’ve written four songs just on this trip alone,” you jest. 

“Have you really?!” she asks, her tone warm as her lips part into the most perfect smile. 

“Yeah,” you laugh, running your free hand over your mouth. “We’ll see if they go anywhere. But anyway…” 

You sit on your thoughts for another few seconds, letting them simmer as your throat continues to tighten. But it feels cathartic in a way, spilling your emotions. It's always been so easy to share with her. 

“I hate the way things ended between you and I, and I can’t take back the decisions that I made and the actions that followed them, and I’ll never be able to tell you how sorry I am. I just wanted you to know that you’ve been the biggest light in my life for a while now, and you gave me the strength to get my dignity back. And I can’t thank you enough for that.” You squeeze her hand again as you see the tears piling up in her eyes. “Just your presence has been enough to make me appreciate my life again. Appreciate the things in front of me, make me lust for them again. And I know that when we get home, we might not ever talk again, you’ll probably move on and tour with someone else, but just know I hold no animosity toward you, and I hope that we can stay friends.”

On your last word, a single tear finally falls on her cheek, a clear indication that her emotions are all over the place, too. 

“Please don’t cry, Y/N,” you whisper as you run your thumb along her tear line to catch the next one, threatening to fall just like the first. “You’re too pretty to cry.”

She pulls away and wipes them herself, fanning her face as she sniffles them away. “God, Jake, you know… you’re so easy to hate.”

Her words take your breath; all the revelations and admissions you just shared seemingly for nothing as she continues to clear her tears away. You open your mouth to speak, but she cuts you off. 

“So easy to hate, but so, so fucking easy to love, too.”

You shake your head in confusion, your heart suddenly ripping itself from your ribcage. “What do you mean?” you mumble, barely audibly.

She swallows as she regains her composure, tucking her hair behind her ear as she leans her head back onto the headrest, eyeing you deeply. 

“I didn’t realize, at first, how much I really felt for you. How much emotion I wasn’t even letting myself feel, because I didn’t even know it was there. While we were sleeping together, and you were being so fucking sweet to me, it was so perfect, and so nice. I guess I just ignored it because I’d never really been treated that genuinely before. Never had someone pursue me so consistently and with so much momentum. But now I know, after everything, it was there. I felt it, and it was real. Even if I tried to ignore it, I felt something really, really intense with you.”

Felt. She felt that way. 

You brush away another tear, mirroring her and lying your head back on your headrest, too… your faces only within inches of one another. 

“Everything felt like a whirlwind, you know? It happened fast, and there were so many vengeful actions, even if we didn’t wanna call them that. We were both fucking stupid, you know?” she continues.

You nod. “Yeah. We were. But I guess I’m glad to know you felt the same way I did, even if we were both too stubborn to really admit it.” 

“You admitted it to me just fine, Jake. I was the one hiding from it all. And now I understand, I see that everything you said came from a place of authenticity, and I’m really sorry you had to go through all of that with Isla. That’s all so fucked up…”

You sigh and continue to brush at her cheek, wishing that things could have gone so differently, but ready to accept the fact that nothing in life worth fighting for is ever easy. And if this was the fight you’d have to be entangled in to get her back, so be it. 

“It’s alright. She’s out of the house now. Lyla texted me a couple days ago and said they’d found an apartment and would ‘No longer be a burden’ to me and Sam. Whatever. I’m just glad to have my home back to myself,” you reply, noticing you’re antsy to get home and rot on your couch in peace. 

Y/N smiles, turning her face to press a quick and sweet kiss to your thumb, the action nearly knocking the breath from your lungs. “That’s good. I’m proud of you, Jake. It took a lot of courage to stand up to her like that,” she says.

“Yeah… no more shackles,” you smile, grabbing her chin between your fingers. The two of you stay caught up in this position for a while, neither of you saying much else while you stare into each other’s eyes, sharing sweet wordless smiles every so often that make you feel even more at peace than you were before. 

It’s all out now, everything you wanted to say now existing in the air between you instead of bottled up in your chests. You know nothing is in your hands, anymore. You’re well aware that the universe has to take charge and draw out the map for your next journey. You know where you want it to lead, though, you know where you want to end up. But as of late you’ve learned to let things take their course, because if you try to force destiny before it’s ready, it will swallow you like quicksand, leaving nothing behind in its wake but broken hearts and words left unsaid. 

“Friends, Y/N?” you ask, finally breaking the stare. 

She takes your hand again, interlacing your fingers together as you feel the threat of sleep taking over. 

“Yeah, Jake. Really good friends.”

—

Late September 2024, Nine Months Later

Nashville, TN

HER POV

“I’m positive, Ruth. Go with the green one with the low neckline. It’s so flattering on your collarbones and he will go crazy,” you try and convince your friend as she works to pick an outfit for her blind date. 

“How do you know that, bitch? I don’t even know what this man looks like, let alone that he will think my collarbones are flattering!” she barks, tossing another outfit onto the bed in front of her. “Give me a whole ass break.”

“What’s got your panties in a bunch? Are you really this nervous? You go on dates like this all the time!” you argue, raising your voice. 

“Yes, I’m nervous, okay? My coworker said that me and this guy are like two peas in a pod and she could see me marrying him. Do you know how insane that sounds, Y/N?! I can’t marry someone, ew!” she responds as she slips out of the frame, still frazzled as she throws on another dress. “Ugh, this looks ugly, too. That’s it, I’m not going. I’m texting her right now and canceling–”

“The fuck you are, Ruth!” you yell as she picks the phone up and brings the screen close to her face. “You’re going on this date, and you’re wearing the gree– oh my god. Oh my god?” you say suddenly, your heart falling to your stomach as you sit back down on your bed. “Holy shit holy shit holy shit.”

“What? What?!” Ruth asks. “What’s wrong?”

You’re breathless as you stare at your screen in disbelief, your jaw hanging slack as you fight to find the words. 

“Y/N!!! Answer me!” Ruth shouts.

“Oh, sorry sorry, um. Jake just… just added a song to our playlist…”

“What?! Jake??? Like Jake, Jake? How long has it been since you talked to him?” she asks, panic written all over her face. 

“Since that day at the airport when we got home from Europe, almost nine months ago…” you say, your voice void of any emotion as you try your hardest to make sure you aren’t dreaming. “We–we decided to cut ties… just be friends…”

“Oh my fuck, Y/N, this is huge. Right? What song is it? What did he add?”

“It’s called Reasons For Waiting? By Jethro Tull? I’ve never heard of this… OH my god Ruth he texted. Oh my god what do I do help me,” you ramble, your heartrate picking up speed as you feel your hands grow sweaty from the singular notification buzz.

“Read the text, you idiot! And read it out loud!” she commands, tilting back her bottle of Twisted Tea she had been pregaming on. 

“Okay okay,” you say, clicking away from the facetime and over to your texts, your hands shaking as you click on the name you hadn’t read in months, though you thought about every single day. 

Jake

6:27PM: Hey stranger, hope you’re well. Was just hanging out and listening to music and some Alt-J came on, made me think of you. 

6:28PM: I went and saw that I still have our playlist saved, and noticed the last song I added was I Will Wait, and I’m sure you saw I added another song just now. I know you weren’t there for it, but during our last tour, this song played to the crowd every night right before we came on stage. It was always one of our favorites, especially mine. Kind of hits home in a lot of ways, and it sort of became the song that connected all of us to our fans, in a way. Anyway, I thought it would be a nice follow up to the one before it, so give it a listen if you don’t know it already. Let me know how you like it 🙂

“Oh my fucking god, babe. Go play it so I can hear too,” she says, and you click play on the song, still holding every ounce of the breath left in your lungs. The two of you listen to the song play out, paying special attention to the words and how the lyrics connect. At the song’s close, your hand flies up over your mouth as you fight the tears, the song already feeling familiar as your faint memories of hearing the guys sing or play it while you were in Europe last year come falling back.

“I remember it, Ruth. They played it all the time, Josh would hum it, Jake would play parts of it on his acoustic… I… What do I even do with this?” you say, your throat constricting with old memories. 

“Y/N, sweetie, this was an invitation. He reached out, finally… right?” Ruth says with a newfound softness in her voice. “You might not have noticed it, but you bring up Jake every single day, in one way or another, did you know that?”

“I do?”

“Yes. You do. You miss him, Y/N, and this was quite literally him saying he misses you, too. He had his reasons for waiting for you, and he has waited, it looks like. For a long time. Text him back.”

“No!” you shout, feeling a fear like no other. “I can’t! What will I even say?! It’s been almost a year, I–”

“Tell him you liked the song. Tell him you loved it, and that you remember hearing it. He’s just looking for contact, Y/N. Extending an olive branch. Maybe all this time apart is just what you needed,” she says, slipping back into the green dress you decided on earlier. “Does he still live in the same place?”

“I don’t know, how would I know?!” you ask, still panicked and teary. 

“Ask him, strike up conversation. You can do it, Y/N,” Ruth urges as she finishes getting dressed and putting her heels on. “I love you, but I have to go, I’m already late for my Uber. But I want screenshots of the texts, and updates on everything, okay?”

You take a deep breath, letting the emotions level out. “Okay. Okay yeah. I’ll text him back.”

“Alright. Love you, good luck and godspeed my bitch,” Ruth salutes as she hangs up the phone, leaving you staring at the text thread with Jake. You huff a sigh, trying to hype yourself up to type the text you’ve been wanting to type for nine months. 

You

6:39PM: Hey 😌 I remember that song well, actually. But I will admit, it sounded better coming from your acoustic

His text bubble pops up almost immediately, as if he was waiting for your reply. 

Jake

6:40PM: I don’t know about all that, now, but I appreciate the compliment

You

6:41PM: How are you? Overseas again?

Jake

6:42PM: I’m well, thanks… And no, we just got back from a leg in Australia and New Zealand, actually. Enjoying being back home

You:

6:43PM: Wow, I bet that was amazing. And home is…

Jake

6:43PM: …still Nashville, yes

6:44PM: Actually just put the finishing touches on my back porch fire pit. 

6:44PM: *attachment* 

The photo showed what looked to be his yard, a few wooden benches surrounding a metal fire pit with an already roaring fire. Jake’s feet were propped up on the pavers that bordered it, holding up a bottle of a beer you’d never seen before.

You

6:45PM: That looks so nice!

6:46PM: Though, I did spy that entire bag of unopened marshmallows sitting beside you…

Jake

6:46PM: I’m about to tear into them now. But, I don’t think I can eat them all on my own

You

6:47PM: I think I know someone who would be willing to help you put a dent in them at least, if you needed assistance…

Your heart pounds as you watch his text bubble fly up, immediately regretting inviting yourself over to his house after so long of having no contact at all. What the fuck, Y/N? He could have someone coming over already, he could have a completely new life, now. Regret, abort, unsend!

Jake

6:49PM: I most definitely need assistance. I’ll drop you a pin

6:49PM: Drive safe, see you soon 😉

His forwardness ignites a feeling in your stomach that you haven’t felt in a long while as you screenshot the texts, sending them straight to Ruth. You toss your phone onto your bed, and rush back to your closet to find the perfect outfit to go and see Jake again, for what would hopefully be the first of many bonfire dates to come. 

JAKE POV

Rushing to tidy up your place would be an understatement; you truly hadn’t planned on the conversation with Y/N going so well, so when she replied that she was almost there, you felt a wave of excitement that could only be cured by finally seeing her in the flesh again. 

Your hands are jittery, your palms are sweaty, and the anxiety in your core has you reeling, but you know it's for good reason. She’s really coming, she’s really almost here…

You throw another log onto the fire as you hear tires in your driveway, just as the sun is starting to set lower in the sky. You brush yourself off as you walk through your house, taking a second to check your appearance in the mirror as you pass by it. You crack the door open to find her already walking up the steps to your front porch, dressed in the prettiest yellow sundress you’re positive you’ve ever seen. Your breath escapes your lungs as she looks at you, gorgeous and beaming as ever. 

“Hey there,” you manage to get out as your heart pounds, “Thanks for coming.”

Her cheeks blush that perfect pink that you always loved so much as you grab her up in a little hug, her arms pulling you in tighter as you finally make contact. Her body still feels so good, so perfect as you feel your skin magnetically connect to hers. You both pull away, a flush of nerves overtaking the both of you after not having seen each other for so long. You make your way inside and back out to the fire. “Of course, how could I turn down free marshmallows?”

You guide her to the other empty seat and watch as she tucks her dress beneath her, sitting back comfortably. You grab a beer from the box beside you, cracking it open and handing it off to her. “Oh, so it was the marshmallows that got you here. If I would have known that, I would have sent you that photo months ago…” you quip, taking a sip from your beer. 

“Thought you were still traveling the world months ago?” she asks, her voice buttery soft as her lips connect with the bottle.

“I was,” you laugh, leaning back in your seat, as well. 

“Australia, huh? How was that?”

“Fucking amazing,” you say. “We love it there. Feels like a whole other world. But I will say it feels good to be back here, back on my turf, in my home. Finally, my home,” you say, trying to insinuate that you were, in fact, still single.

“You never let Isla come back?” she presses, getting straight to the point. 

You shake your head with furiosity. “Hell no. No. We haven’t spoken.”

“Good for you, Jake,” she says, her voice still absolutely dripping with honey as you take a second to admire her in the dimming sunlight. The fire is casting bright beams onto her face and exposed chest, and you have to remind yourself that this is just a cordial visit. Between friends. Just catching up.

You clear your throat. “And you…? Find another super cool band to run for?” 

She smiles as she shakes her head. “No, I traveled a lot, though. Took some time, went out West, visited Ruth and some family… I actually did the paperwork today to make myself available to tour again. Think I’m ready to get back out there.” She cocks an eyebrow as she crosses her legs, taking another long drag of her drink. 

You’re almost speechless as you watch her move; somehow she seems so much more sure of herself, now… so confident and comfortable in her own skin. Not that she wasn’t before, but something has switched. 

“Is that right?” you say, leaving the question open-ended to be discussed another time. “Have you uh, have you talked to Murph?” 

You’d contemplated not touching on the subject at all, but you figured there is no better time than the present to go ahead and rip off the bandaid, if there was to be one. 

She smiles as she bobs her head up and down. “Yep, have the wedding invitation hanging on my fridge. You going?”

Your heart warms at the thought, knowing that just nine short months ago, the three of you were caught up in something you were sure you’d never pull yourself from. But now, as time has held hands with destiny again, you find yourselves in a whole different dimension. 

“Of course I’m going!” you reply. “It’s our turn to take care of him while he gets too damn drunk to function. He and I uh, actually got kind of close on this last leg, we’re actually more alike than I thought we were,” you explain, pulling open the bag of marshmallows. 

“Wow!” she says. “And to think…”

“I know. Hindsight is 20/20. We talked it out, got over it. You know he got back with his ex a couple of months after we got home from Europe… she showed up on his doorstep saying everything was a mistake, how much she missed him and all that. Next thing we knew we were going to their housewarming party, and he was sending Danny photos of rings.” 

“You’re kidding me…” she says as you watch an overwhelming expression of sweetness and longing cover her face, her hand clutching at her heart as her lips pout. 

“Yep. We helped him decide on one. Got her a rock, too. He was so happy, Y/N. You know how he’s already so happy-go-lucky… he’s like a big ball of laughter and elation, now. Man’s head over heels. I like her, too. Sweet girl that gets those big googly eyes when she’s around him,” you say, internally laughing at the whole situation and how things have ended up. 

“That’s so good, Jake. I’m actually really, so very happy for him,” she says as she stares into the fire, going silent for a few seconds. You lift a marshmallow from the bag and toss it at her face, breaking her from her trance into the flames. “Hey!!” she squeals, picking it off her lap to throw back at you. 

“You mean you’re not jealous?!” you ask with faux surprise. 

“Of course I’m not jealous,” she says, again showing her maturity. She leans over and dips her hand deep into the bag of marshmallows on your lap, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d bargain that she left her hand there for a second longer than she needed to as her fingertips graze your inner thigh through the bag. She pulls one out, taking a big bite of it. “But I probably will need a date to the wedding, though… if you have any ideas of anyone I could ask…” 

You feel your lips curl up into a cheeky grin, hoping, praying that she means what you think she does. 

“Funny, I was gonna go stag, but… if you’d like some arm candy, I think I could like, hold your purse for you,” you tease, taking a bite of a marshmallow yourself as your eyes dig into hers. 

“You might want to start taking some dancing lessons now, Jake. You’ve got three months to learn how to do the Electric Slide and the Wobble,” she quips, shoving your shoulder. You take the opportunity to grip the handle of her chair, scooting her toward you so that your shoulders touch. 

You lean in close to her, pulling a bit of hair behind her ear. “The only dancing I’ll be doing is slow dancing, with my wedding date…”

You feel her swallow hard at your bold words and close proximity, but you hold true to it. To it all. It’s always been true. 

You place a firm hand on the back of her neck, expecting her to pull away, but she doesn’t. She moves in even closer, brushing her lips across yours as you just barely breathe in the essence of the sugar still on them. 

Her eyes flash up to yours as you hear her breath catch, and you know the fact that she isn’t pulling away is very telling. “Do you want to stay for dinner, Y/N?” you breathe.

“You mean these marshmallows aren’t dinner?” she asks, her cuteness almost too much as you can’t hold back a giggle.

“No. I’m making pasta primavera. Very fancy and difficult and special…” you say, tightening your grip on her neck again as her lips ghost yours.

“Mmm, sounds like you might need a hand. I should probably… stay and help…”

“You should… stay and help…” you take your hand from around the back of her neck, moving it slowly to grasp her jaw, pulling her slowly into a kiss that feels like it was a hundred years coming. Soft and gentle as you taste her again, your lips barely pressed together as you hear her slow inhale. Peaceful and right. So incredibly right. You part yours a little to let her in, wanting to feel her warmth again more than anything else. She feels so familiar yet so different, the sweetness of the whole exchange overtaking your ability to think straight. 

You feel her smile onto you as you disconnect, giving yourselves both a second to come back down to earth. 

“I’m… sorry, that was…” you say as you press your fingers to your lips. 

“Old habits die hard,” she laughs, the sound of it making you squirm with nerves. 

You’re both unable to speak for a minute or so, and you know for a fact that she is reeling just the same as you are. “So, you want to come inside?” you ask, finally standing and brushing your hands across your shorts. 

“Yeah, give me the grand tour….” she says, standing and following you through the yard. You stop and take her in, watching as her face is lit up and bashful from the kiss you both had been longing for for so long, now. 

You hold out your hand, urging her to take it as you top the steps, ready to start fresh with the only woman who has ever made you feel whole, and hoping that she’ll stay for more than just dinner. 

Taglist: @britney-gvf @gretavanmoon @sacredstarcatcher @wetkleenex-gvf @farfromthehomelands @takenbythemadness @writingcold @builtbybrokenbells @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @fleet-of-fiction @milkgemini @gvfpal @ageofcj@dancingcarbon @highway-tuna @stardustjake @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @gvfmarge @gracev0609 @myleftsock @literal-dead-leaf @peaceloveunitygvf @ageofbajabule @slut4lando @jordie-gvf @sadiechar @tinydancer40 @rosabellagvf @capnjaket @lyndz2names @thetroublegetssoloud71 @gretavanomens @spark-my-nature @josh-iamyour-mama @anythingforjtk @alwaysonthemend @danieljlmwagner @klarxtr @fortunatelytinybasement @demonrat444 @gretavansara @watchingover-hypegirl @hippievanfleet @digitalnomadz @raviolilegs @lipstickitty @hippievanfleet @klarxtr @strange-whorizons @do-it-jakey-baby @myownparadise96 @gvf-luna @starshine-wagner @cassiesgreta @joopsandjangs @whimsiliz @kiszkas-canvas @whimsiliz @joopsandjangs @broken0mens @scoreofinfantryvines @whereiskeara @do-it-jakey-baby @miravanfleet @heckingfrick @kiszka-canvas @whimsiliz @joopsandjangs @broken0mens @scoreofinfantryvines @whereiskeara @do-it-jakey-baby @miravanfleet @heckingfrick @jenniferkiszka

[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.” 

* * *