#hard of hearing deceit

[kleptokure]

Deceit's Favorite 🃏

Shadow Milk Cookie x GN!Reader

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

This is bad, you thought to yourself. The outcome of your arrival in Beast-Yeast is far worse than you would have ever thought.

Yes, you expected to encounter the Beast with Deceit engraved into their essence, but within the hour you stepped foot on the foreign terrain? You were not prepared to reunite with your old friend all of a sudden.

Being one of the first cookies to be given a Soul Jam, you assumed going to Beast-Yeast would not be a challenge for you. Yet current circumstances prove you incorrect. Now you wish you stayed in Crispia, where the air is not so bitter.

As much as you would love to rescue Pure Vanilla from his absolute contrary personified, there is an obstacle surrounding your shelter.

You are well aware that Gingerbrave and the gang are accompanying Pure Vanilla Cookie, and a battle of them versus one mere cookie seems like an easy fight. But Shadow Milk is a special cookie, which is known to most who are aware of his being. The beast knows the trauma his main opponent withholds and would not hesitate to use it against him.

Speaking of Shadow Milk Cookie, you are currently pondering over how he located you in the first place. Your expectations were for his full focus to be on his "Soul Jam thief," but it appears your dough, and crumbs, is much more important in his reality.

Surprisingly, his encounter with you was far from destructive. In all honesty, you will admit it was leaning closer to bittersweet.

Shadow Milk Cookie had a lot to say, of course. His words were laced with jeers, flirts, yet betrayal at the same time. Though he did say something along the lines of forgiving you for not standing by his side eons ago.

It comes as hard to remember the exact words, as your mind is fuzzy with all this information. You might be concentrated on the romantic parts of his speech more than you should be.

Your train of thought is brought to an abrupt stop, hearing knocks on the front door to your hidden hideout. It must not be so hidden if the one cookie you scurry from has managed to locate you. Shadow Milk seemingly possesses eyes all over the place, though you could have predicted that part.

There is no point dragging out the eventual conversation awaiting you pair. With that said, you pick yourself up and walk towards the door.

Having opened the door with a rigid gaze, you find there to be no cookie to return your stare.

Great, another trick. You should have guessed that. Now what? Is he going to be inside your house when you turn around? Candlelight dinner with an empty seat calling your name?

Before you get the chance to close the opening, a piece of paper finds its way slapped onto the middle of your face.

With dread, you tear the sheet off and hold it before your eyes, reading the text it has engraved into itself.

It's... an invitation? To a show, to be exact. The reading says,

"YOU, yes, YOU are invited to a one of a kind show!

Don't be late, as I’d be very upset if you were.

From your dearest jester. XoXo <3"

You feel a warmth in your dough from the heart included at the bottom of the sheet. You almost tore the paper just to rid of a feeling caused by him of all cookiekind. The weather here has to be the cause of your sickly feelings.

In any other situation, you would refuse without a second thought (that's what you tell yourself). But Pure Vanilla is walking a path of danger, and you will do what you can to change that for your friend.

Even so, the candlelight dinner you expected to occur now comes as more preferable.

Looking further down, you notice the time the show host requests you arrive is a few five minutes away. He was kind enough to give you a step-by-step map to the location.

The short notice matters not, as you have nothing better to do. Spending all this time huddled up in a random shack is not what one would call time well spent.

Gathering yourself up, you take you and your crumbs out into the eerie outside of Beast-Yeast. With the map given, you follow the path, each step closer to meeting the volatile cookie of deceit.

It is nothing less of a short trip, arriving at an isolated place hidden by the trees. The wind brushes by to rustle the decaying leaves. There is no more than 10 seats placed in an organized manner in front of a puppet stage, even though you are sure to be the sole cookie watching his upcoming act. Alongside the marionettes he controls, of course.

Finished with taking in the environment, you walk towards your seat before a familiar voice stops you in your tracks.

"Well, well, well. Lookie who finally decided to show up!"

You turn your head, and your eyes meet. If you had fallen to his side long ago, you would say the sight of him takes your breath away. But that would be silly to even think about at the moment.

"...Shadow Milk Cookie."

"I know, I know, saying it never gets boring, amirite?" He chuckles, floating in his casual manner to give a little twirl.

"The STAR of the show has arrived! Oh, but am I talking about you, orrrr am I talking 'bout me?" Shadow Milk sends a small wink your way. It seems like now that reunions have passed, getting comfortable with you comes natural to him.

"We need to talk—"

"Now, now, take a seat. The crowd is trembling with excitement!" A selected puppet appears next to you, hand pushing you to your spot. A front seat right in the middle. Aren't you just the luckiest?

Even though more crucial topics could arise, Shadow Milk Cookie is determined to get his way. You can do nothing but comply.

You should raise your weapon to save cookies from his future plans. But that all comes to a stutter whenever you see his face; his very pretty face. Your gawking gets cut short when a spotlight is directed on the act before you.

"Once upon a time, there were two cookies. Two cookies who were veeeeery in love, might I add!" He stupidly makes the two puppets kiss, creating a few mwas for extra effect. The brainwashed cookies around all "aww."

If it were a cliche romance story between two unknown cookies, you would not have been bothered. Yet shown by the cutouts he made quite well, the two cookies in specifics were no other than you and Shadow Milk Cookie. Must he make this insufferable to sit through by bringing up feelings from the past?

"They were busy cookies, too. Like, all of the gnats around depended on them!" You dislike the use of the word gnats, your iced eyebrow furrowing.

"But oh dear! One day, a certain cookie got tired of those puny creatures, never appreciative of what was given..." The cutout of Shadow Milk Cookie is seen with angry eyebrows. It's almost laughable.

"Soooo, Shadow Milk Cookie stopped helping out the doughbrains. All of those ungrateful cookies deserved to be crumbled instead!" His voice takes on a more passionate tone. Cheers of agreement erupt from the tiny, feigned crowd.

"Shadow Milk Cookie tried to reveal to his beloved partner the deception in reality, but guess what?" You already anticipate his next words.

Your hands clench into fists; the memories of the exact scene he portrays pouring through your head. Shadow Milk is not the lone cookie whose face comes to mind. The other beasts, whom you were close with, make an appearance too. Their faces of shock at your disloyalty still upset you to this day.

"HEY! Eyes up here, silly! I’m not done yet!" Shadow Milk Cookie snaps you back into attention. Making sure he has your full focus, which he adores, he continues on.

"Ehem. But then... [Name] Cookie BETRAYED ME! Yes, ME, out of all cookies! When I was so loving towards them!" The crowd of puppets gasp, mutters heard along themselves.

"Oh, the terror, the drama, the heartbreak—"

"Shadow Milk Cookie!" You interrupted his sob story, which is when you jumped out of your seat. Listening to his narrative for any longer is not what you would describe optimal.

The jester releases giggles, storing away his puppet show with a poof. His dough in the air, Shadow Milk flies over to you.

"Wooow, big reactions from the crowd! Didja love it? I can tell you loved it." He bats his multicolored eyelashes at you, a twinkle of amusement shining in his eyes.

"Stop with your child's play. There are crucial subjects to speak of!"

"Mmmm, like what—Ooooh! Are you talking about that Soul Jam THIEF? Awwwh, are you offering to help me take em down, maybe? You are just the sweetes—"

"No. You need to stop what you plan for Pure Vanilla Cookie." Shadow Milk Cookie rolls his eyes at your heroic words, showing he dismisses your request.

"Ugh! Honey, are you really siding with HIM?" His tone suggests he believes he is in the right.

"Tsk, I know he'll ultimately turn into me, but why not have the original? HELLOOOO, I’m right here!" His hand waves in front of your face, as if trying to rope you back into reality.

"You'll bring Earthbread to ruins! Your Soul Jam was taken due to your own villainy, Shadow Milk. Leave Pure Vanilla alone," you spoke with a stern tone, like it would ever leave an effect on the cookie floating before you.

"Oh, [Name] Cookie, how they've corrupted your sweet mind..." He looks into the gloomy sky, feigning a face of reminiscence.

"Hmmmmm, maybe, just maybe I'll listen to my dearest star if they apolooogizeeeed!" His words are nothing but lies, but fooling you at least once is his on his bucket list. It wouldn't hurt to give it another shot.

"...Apologize? For what?" Seems like your interest is peaked!

"For what?! There are many, many, maaaany things for you to grovel about, ya goof!" His face is just close enough to catch a whiff of his sweetly scented dough.

"But, I suppose for, y'know, not being there when I got out of that stupid tree!" He decided with a tilt of his head.

"What? I am not the one who sealed you in there, even though it was well deserved," you replied. Shadow Milk Cookie decided to ignore that last part.

"No, no, not that! Don'tcha know how sad I was when I got out of there?! I looked for your face between all those pathetic faeries, but you went GHOST!" He places his hand over his chest like the drama queen he is.

"How could my favorite cookie miss my long awaited return!" He cannot be serious, but deep down, you know he speaks with his crumbs included.

A simple sorry is all you have to say, and it isn't like losing a bit more of your dignity would hurt. For your fellow cookies, you tell yourself.

"Fine. I... apologize for missing out on your reappearance." Shadow Milk Cookie's façade of misery is gone in a snap. Instead, a large, toothy grin covers his face.

"Now, you will leave Pure Vanilla Cookie with his Soul Jam intact, yes?"

"Ah, you don't know how long I've awaited to hear that come from your lips!" Ignoring your question entirely, Shadow Milk nuzzles his cheek against yours, similar to a cat. You yourself are unaware of why you failed to pull away.

"Shadow Milk Cookie," you repeated, as he decided to leave you unanswered. He huffs before giving you a proper response.

"Right, right. I'll leave Silly Vanilly alone, all because you're such a good cookie!" Most of you refuses to believe him, but for now, gratitude will be expressed on your side.

"Thank yo—"

"UNDER ONE CONDITION!" Witches. There never fails to be a "condition" with this cookie. You remained silent, waiting for his next words.

"I. Want. A. Kiss!" With each word, he positions himself even closer than he previously was, the blueberry aroma he carries wafting your way.

He is far from surprised when your mouth remains closed. You can get a little shy at times, he would say. In truth, you really are just that incredulous.

"Earthbread to [Name] Cookie! Do I gotta repeat myself?" He laughs, finding your current expression to be hilarious.

Regaining your state of mind, you find yourself unsure of what to say. Of course you should decline without a second thought. THE Shadow Milk of all cookies is asking you for a kiss! Who in their right mind would say yes?

Oh, but as the case may be, you were never in your right mind.

"I..."

"I, I, I." Shadow Milk Cookie mocks you, yet it is endearing in his own way.

"C’mon, you know you love me! After all, I can recall certain events that would deem us a bit more than the rivals you act like we are," he chirped, making your mental state even worse as the warmth of his hand lands atop your shoulder.

You want to rid of those memories, you've attempted! However, it is much simpler to say than to do when trying to erase experiences with the one cookie you have ever cherished.

This is why you keep your identity hidden, why no one is aware of the power you hold underneath. It would only lead to more questions of the beasts back then, and that leads to prying about Shadow Milk Cookie.

You will admit that your relationship with Shadow Milk was very different compared to now. He and you shared many tender memories. A couple instances were slightly too tender to label you pair as mere friends. However, the both of you were put under too many responsibilities to ever have a chance to change close friends into something more.

Although, that never eliminated the love floating in the air, and it surely did not rid of the rushed kisses taking place in empty classrooms.

While memories from the past appear, feelings from back then aren't too far from showing up as well. You are very knowing of what said feelings were in specifics. Arising emotions can go for both you and Shadow Milk Cookie, but facing that is mortifying.

The sudden movement of your hood being pulled away struck you back to life.

"Pssh, what good will this hood do? I want to see your entire lovely face when our lips meet!" Shadow Milk Cookie brought his levitating to a stop while you were distracted, standing right before you.

"Who do ya really think you’re hiding from in this old hood? Me? Hahaha, that's hilarious! Perhaps I ought to dress you in attire matching my own?" Your stomach feels heavy, and you hate the fact that you cannot discern whether it's with butterflies or dread. Maybe a mix of both.

"You must promise to not bring harm upon any cookie." Now you're making conditions, but you know you only say them to ease your conscience regarding your soon betrayal of the others. Asking the Cookie of Deceit to make a promise has a predictable conclusion.

"I've been trapped in that cursed tree for so long, deprived of touch I longed for from you! Must you make your beloved wait any longer?"

You can't. As pathetic as that sounds, you cannot leave the beast to wait. That being mentioned, you press your lips to his smooth ones, your partner squeaking from your bout of boldness.

Perhaps Pure Vanilla Cookie can find it in his dough to forgive you for your greed. He should come to know that Shadow Milk is a very manipulative cookie.

Or maybe you never put up much of a fight to begin with.

Shadow Milk melts into you afterwards, returning your kiss with more power than you gave. It's clear to see just how eager he was to have you back in his grasp.

His arms hold a tight grip around your neck, putting the entirety of his weight onto you, with one leg lifted into the air per usual. Repeatedly giving you small kisses afterward, Shadow Milk can't help but giggle.

Underneath, he's giddy at the fact he managed to slip under the walls you placed for him, which, if you asked him, such barriers should be nonexistent for him, your dear soon-to-be spouse.

Besides that, now he's certain to recruit you towards the livelier side of the beasts! You might've refused to call yourself such a term at first, but it was inevitable.

He can't wait to show you off to every cookie on Earthbread, to flaunt how you discovered the lies of the world and came into his loving embrace willingly. Your duo comeback will shake every crumb without a doubt.

Pure Vanilla Cookie's face will be priceless! With you here now, the finest performance he has ever hosted can only be awaited.

He hopes those doughbrains are prepared for a major plot twist.

[burningcheese-merchant]

Thought.

The Soul Jams are sentient/capable of independent thought and action. We have seen them converse (and even argue) with their owners. It's heavily implied that they themselves actively chose the Ancients as their new holders.

The Ancients and Beasts are complementary forces. Not just because of each pair embodying one side of their shared coin, but in other ways as well. Example: Pure Vanilla's gentle, patient and sincere demeanor perfectly contrasts Shadow Milk's bombastic, conniving, insincere one. Treading the same path ultimately, but in different ways. Only Pure Vanilla could have succeeded against Shadow Milk in episode 8; had it been any other Ancient, or even any other character period, they would've failed and perished. Pure Vanilla's triumph, as well as his relationship/connection with Shadow Milk, was born not just from the Light of Knowledge/Truth/Deceit, but from his within own spirit. They're attached to one another as the individuals they are and always were, not just because they share a power source. It could never have been anyone BUT Pure Vanilla to unify with, then defeat, Shadow Milk the way he did. It's from a man exactly like Pure Vanilla that Shadow Milk needed to face, needed to hear from.

Same exact thing with the other Beast/Ancient pairs. Who would've been able to see through Mystic Flour's extreme pessimism, stoicism and self-loathing if not Dark Cacao, who is more or less exactly like her and thus understands those feelings? Who would've been able to strike back against Burning Spice's bloodthirsty tyranny (and in the exact way he always wanted but never got) if not Golden Cheese, who has also suffered through the cycle of change (watching a civilization she worked so hard to build and protect be destroyed and forgotten, exactly like him) and whom also seeks to turn its tide in her favor? Who would ever have matched the Beasts better than these 5? Who ever would've made better foils for them?

The Soul Jams knew all of this. They knew, as soon as the Ancients came into contact with them, that they were their new and rightful wielders. Not just because they have what it takes to be great, uncorruptible heroes. But because they, their countenances, their characters, work so, so well with the Beasts'.

THE SOUL JAMS CHOSE THE ANCIENTS BECAUSE THEY WANTED TO PLAY MATCHMAKER FOR THEIR ORIGINAL OWNERS. SEND POST

[lufyuu]

,,Homesick''

Tw/s: gore-ish, mentions of blood, hate-love, reader is NOT a good individual, very rough sex, marking (several times), aphrodisiac effects, reader fucked into unconsciousness, overstimulation, possessiveness, semi rushed.

Part 1 | Part 2

Huff huff, a man huffs and puffs, trying to catch his breath while running as if someone or something is chasing him. He doesn't even look back, not wanting to know what would face him. This time, he intends on never getting caught. Never getting locked up. It would be the first and last time he'd ever get caught. He promises himself that.

Not even a month ago, he spotted a mysterious cloaked figure spying on him through the window of the bedroom. That wasn't the scariest part. The thing that scared him the most was that the bedroom is located on the top floor. As 'fearless' as the man claims to be, this experience shook him up. It reminded him of the man who had been keeping him captive yet...the vibes were different. This figure had a dark presence whereas Zihao had am

The man had even memorized the servants' schedules in order to get out of that wretched manor.

But despite all his efforts in running, the woods seem endless. The sun was still shining brightly when he first escaped but now dusk approaches, the sun dipping slowly but noticeably. The man thought that he would be out of the woods by now but no. He's stuck in these seemingly endless woods. The longer time went on, the more nervous he became. He had always been the hunter and not the hunted. Hell, he doesn't even know if someone is hunting him. He just knows he wants to get far far away from the place. Even if he's having second thoughts every now and then, he stays determined to find the exit out of these woods. The man has gone through countless woods before, what's one more?

Just as the sun sets, the tired man hears the sound of cars..! This is his chance to finally rid himself of the chains which have been holding him back all this time.

"S-sir..!," He almost drops to the dirty ground, clutching his stomach as he limps towards the now pulled over car. He has his head down incase the driver does recognize him. With his body drenched in sweat, the oblivious man falls for his deceit. "What the..are you okay!?," the man instantly gets out of the car, approaching the 'injured' man who just emerged from the woods. It was dangerous, especially when night's about to come. As the man got closer, he realized that the other had no blood coming out the part they were clutching but before he could question it, the latter, with a swift move, slices his throat with a sharp stick. As expected, the man falls down, his body lifeless and limp as a pool of his own blood started to form. "That was too easy," the escapee finally stands up straight with a smirk. Even after all this time, he hasn't lost his touch.

He picks up the body and effortlessly throws it into the woods, not caring if it's found or not. All he wants now is to breathe more of this fresh air and get the fuck out of there.

All the murderer had to do was turn the keys and the vehicle started. As he stared into the rearview mirror, he saw the infamous serial killer whom everyone thought was off the streets, staring back at him. [Name] [L.Name].

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

A couple months has passed since that incident and the streets are bloodier than ever. Your skills and knife grow sharper day by day. Because of you, the streets went from being lively to somewhat gloomy. With everyone always looking over their shoulders in case anyone tries to sneak up on them. Or incase they see you, lurking in the dark. Everyone's been begging the police to search harder for the fugitive but no matter how hard they look, they can't seem to find you. You've learned from your previous mistake. It's something you plan on never repeating again.

The public has been more pressure than ever on Zihao specifically. People think he let you go on purpose due to his very unusual sentencing a few months back. In turn, Zihao has become easily irritable, it's made clear by the way he's been sentecing caught criminals.

Trespassing on private property? 3 years with a $3000 fine. Shoplifting? 4 years—you get the point. Hell he even sentenced someone for slandering his name in his courtroom. 10 years without probation.

Despite his very odd behaviour the past few months, nobody questioned. They only saw it as him stressing over the fact you've escaped under his watch. 'It was probably humiliating for him,' 'he must be trying to save face,' people thought. But it was far from the truth. It's true he wanted you back but he didnt feel humiliated, rather, he felt worried, angry. Zihao wanted to know why you would run away from him when he has given you nothing but the best. He wants you back within reach, to feel you against him once more. As each day passed without your precious face next to him when he awakes, without your menacing glare, without your venom, the worry in his chest only grew. He couldn't think straight without you within reach. Just how did you get away..? He had set up a whole barrier incase you tried to flee so why did it break?

The more Zihao thought about your escape, the more questions he had. It shouldn't have been possible and yet you were gone. Nowhere to be found despite his efforts in tracking you down. His beloved, out there, avoiding him. How his heart hurted like never before.

Somewhere outside the city, you had made yourself rather comfortable, getting back the old life you were forced to leave. Though, you didn't have the luxury you were so accustomed to. Everything felt a bit odd but that was just the price for freedom. Who were you to complain now that your freedom's back? You can unleash bloodshed whenever and however you want now!

...But gosh all this freedom wasn't as amazing as you expected. It was hard getting adjusted to your newfound freedom. You often find yourself questioning that mysterious cloaked man's identity. He hadn't done anything but it was still creepy and weird for him to be staring at you through the window like that. Though, those questions didn't have your full attention as because you had gotten so used to your life with bastard of a judge, you would occasionally be curled up craving someone's touch. To have their hands all over you and fuck you good. You tried ignoring your tent for as long as you could but gave in eventually. Even as your hand pumped your hard cock, you just didn't get the same satisfaction you had gotten with Zihao. Not as if you'd ever admit it though. Eventually, you decided to hook up with some prostitutes, perhaps they'd provide the same satisfaction.

Oh you were so wrong. Not only were they terrified of you once they had learned of your name, they couldn't even fuck you right. The more they tried to please you, the more you got annoyed until their heads inevitably splurted out thick crimson liquid. A whole mess for the staff to clean up but at least you did them a favour by getting rid of an incompetent worker.

On one of those bloody nights, you decided to go out on a stroll after a gruesome kill. "Tch," you clicked your tongue, "this is tiny as hell," you said with one hand in your pocket while the other was holding a mutilated dick of the man you had just murdered. Throwing it away in a discrete area and snickering as it falls down, hitting the ground. You were far enough from the crime scene to be able to stroll worry free. The night was still young, being only midnight, you wonder what else you could do.

The downside of being a known and wanted fugitive was that _everyone_ knew your face. Making it harder for you to navigate around. "Hah, what a pain...," you say as the thought took over your mind. Life was much simpler back then. Back with Zihao. "Fuck!" You kick over some rock at the thought of your captor. You can imagine his smirking face so clearly. But it's all in your head. That bastard's been in your mind all week and it's just pissing you off. Your heart and body longs for his while your brain longs to see the man's head chopped and served on a platter to you.

You shake your head, perishing the thought and thought about something, anything to do. Something interesting.

That's when you notice a random gust of wind accompanied by a strange and large shadow. It wasn't small enough to be an animal that's for sure. It couldn't be a bear as you're not even near any forests. Without saying word, you turn around, looking everywhere to find the source of that strange wind. When you find nothing, you sigh, perhaps your head's playing tricks on you again. Not a surprise, you've surely just gone insane because of the whole captive situation with Zihao. Right..?

"Fuck, maybe I should just get back," you mumble and start to walk faster to the direction of wherever you'd stay for the night.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

The list of missing people and victims grew almost endless. Their bodies mutilated in a way nobody could ever imagine. It was definitely the work of a fucked up maniac. One such as yourself. Well, it was your work anyways. You made sure nobody else could take the credit after working so hard on those bodies.

Your merciless and brutal murders scared even the most fearless men. They'd cower at the sight of you which motivated you even more. No more staying at home, no more being locked up, no more Zihao. Just the way you liked it. Right?

You wish you meant the last part but even in your sick head, you felt something akin to homesickness. Maybe that's not the right word. You just felt lost. After so long of living in luxury and having someone tend to your every need, you craved it slightly. Even if it was at the cost of your freedom. But wasn't it better than being a wanted runaway? Zihao no longer had control of you, though. It's all you've ever wanted. There's no way you miss his soft touch, gentle kisses— gosh what were you even thinking. Did he place some sort of spell on you? You're [Name] [L.Name]. A brutal serial murderer. You have no time for these trivial feelings. They were never a problem so why now?

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

You were restless that night. Plagued with all sorts of nightmares involving him...but oddly, he was the one who saved you from this unknown figure each time before dissapearing from your grasp. You would wake up with cold sweat from just a mere nightmare. Panting, trying to catch your breath as you wake up in a hurry, looking around to see if anyone was near, looking for the cause of that vivid nightmare but..nothing.

And it continued to be like that for the next week. Each time the figure felt closer and closer. You knew it was all in your head but it just felt so..real. Even after all this time the question still lingers in your mind, just who is that mysterious man? Hells, the only reason you knew it was a man was because of his deep voice which sounded almost like an animal's growl the first time you heard it. You wanted to dig more into it but found it hard as you had no leads. Even as a serial murderer such as yourself, that figure had shaken you up. How was it that someone could rescue you so fast and swiftly while you spent several months inside that prison-like manor without a chance of escape? Though, these questions didn't prevent you from doing your weekly murder. Why would it anyway?

To be fair, it was also your way of getting things off your mind.

After catching your breath, you finally calm down enough to decide it's time to get ready for the day. Going out in the day was no easy feat for a wanted criminal such as you. You have to wear outfits or accessories that can hide your face or at least half of it while not standing out. You much prefer the night's embrace. You could walk around freely by that time of day.

Walking out of your hideout, you expected to see the sun shining as always but it looked rather gloomy. Something about it was very off. Perhaps a storm was coming? No that's not right..it looks different than a storm. Even the vibes you were getting weren't great. "It's fine, the weather's just a bit weird sometimes." You try to reassure yourself, it's not something to worry about. Step by step, you walk around the city, making sure to avoid the busier parts filled with officers out looking for you. While looking around, you notice that there were more officers patrolling than usual. You knew they were trying hard to locate you but the amount of officers were ridiculous. Even more so as it was only for one person. "If Judge Liu wanted to find me so badly, he should've patrolled himself," you say to yourself while shrugging.

Though, something was off. Very off. The city folks seemed more wary somehow. Have they already found the mutilated body? There's no way, you would have heard of it by now. Plus, there wasn't this big of a reaction when your other victims were found in a worse state. Speaking of...there were more people walking around than usual. Ever since you've been on the run, the city folks avoided going out, resulting in the city being uncrowded. But today, everyone seemed to be gathering for some unknown reason. You'd expect a crowd of this size to be loud and full of life but all you hear are murmurs. It's very eerie even by your standards.

Asking around whilst keeping your identity hidden, you find out that Judge Liu has...vanished. It's as if he just dissapeared. The revelation should have made you jump with joy but it didn't. Somehow, you felt a lump in your throat, your heart drops at the news. Zihao...is gone? Just like that? "There's no way." You tried to convince yourself despite your foot tapping and your palms starting to sweat a bit. It's a joke, isn't it? He's a dragon and this city's respected judge, he wouldn't just dissapear like that. Were your dreams becoming a reality—no, no. There's just no way.

Taking a few steps forward, you were too lost in your thoughts to notice the tall man infront of you. As you bump into him, he stops in his tracks and so do you. "Tch." You let out, you were already feeling conflicted and this just set you off. Without hesitation, you try to walk around him, ignoring his presence as much as possible. A grip on your wrist causes you to hold a dagger at his throat. Looking up at the stranger, you're shocked to look into the same eyes you did all those months ago. The man who had helped you fulfill your wishes. Him.

The hesitation gives him enough time to knock the dagger out of your hand and also pull you in just close enough for your eyes to roam around his face, taking note of his unusually bright red eyes with a slit as a pupil and the many many scars he has on him. Particularly the slit he has from his left mouth to cheek. "We meet again, Zihao's little mate." 'Little mate.'

With a swing of your fist, you manage to knock him square in the jaw which forces him to let go of your hands, almost pushing you away in the process. You were nothing if not your brute force and precision. "The fuck did you say." As you were about to deliver another blow, an unknown force stops you. His eyes glowing even more. Unluckily for you, everyone was far too focused with one another to see or hear this exchange between the two of you. You wanted to kick but that didn't work either. "Feisty. Though, I wonder why dearest Zihao chose you out of all the other humans." He tilts his head in amusement, seeing your angry expression. "Don't look at me like that sweetheart, you're flattering me," his tone teasing as he releases you from his magical grasp. Your heart drops at a thought. What if Zihao dissapeared because of him..?

"All this talk about Zihao, are you obsessed with that bastard like all the others?" You snarl at the man, showing aggression. He's silent for a moment, eyes a bit wide before bursting out in laughter. "Hah...me? Obsessed with that old man? You're funny," he stops laughing, "I want that motherfucker dead." His expression suddely serious, eyes so full of hate that even you can't comprehend it. "And I know you hate him too, despite being...marked by the guy sooo why don't we take him down together hm?" He offers and you lift up an eyebrow, why would he want to team up with you? He's shown what he's capable of alreay. Magic. Despite your reputation, you are still a human afterall. "I know what you're wondering, you're a mortal yada yada but you're different don't you get it? I mean, it's not everyday you come across a famed and escaped serial killer now is it?" He looks at you expecting a nod but you don't do anything, leaving him sighing. "Are you in or not? I could just slaughter him myself—" "I'm in." You finally answer. Maybe this way you won't feel conflicted about him anymore. Maybe this was the solution all along.

Leading you away from the city, the two of you trek into the deep forest, the sound of leaves crunching and branches snapping were the only sounds that could be heard. "Where are we going," You ask suspiciously, looking around for any sort of trap. "Oh don't be so impatient, you'll see soon enough, [Name]." The man is relaxed but you're not done asking questions. "Since you know my name, what's yours?" You look expectantly at him, waiting for an answer. A name. Maybe you'd even recognize it. His expression is oddly not the usual smirk he has. It takes a few seconds of silence before he states his name, "call me Zarek." Zarek smiles at you while the two of you continue the long walk. It's an unfamiliar name, you've never heard it before but something about it makes you uneasy.

As the two of you walk, you begin to feel as if you were reaching your destination. The homesickness was going away. This change of feeling showed on your face with Zarek taking notice. "You feel it don't you? His presence growing near. It's giving you comfort huh?" He looks at you with a mad expression, more than slightly amused at your expression and body language. Before long he's laughing to himself, enjoying your uneasiness. "What the fuck are you laughing at," You say, facing him, it's more of a threat than anything. All of a sudden he stops, his laugh stopping with his steps.

Your eyes widen to see the sight infront of you. Zihao, chained up. His legs chained while his hands were cuffed. His usual calm demeanor was gone as his eyes met yours. A look of anger spreads on his face as he turns to look at Zarek. "What's with this." "I'm merely helping you out, brother. See your beloved here?" He grabs your chin and hand, making sure you're not able to attack him. "His soul looks absolutely delectable. I just wanted you to see me devour him whole." With your legs, you try to kick him but to no avail.

"I know you've grown weak without your precious mate, Zihao. How does it feel to see him so close and yet out of reach?" Zarek smirks at the restrained dragon who's glaring sharply at him. "He's already marked, Zarek." Zihao warns but his brother doesn't seem to care. "Well, you seem to forget, Zihao. A normal mark like this on a mortal can be overlapped by another," he has a smug look as he says this before turning towards you, "honestly, I was planning on just killing you after a taste of freedom but..," he trails off, his hand cupping your face, "this feels more satisfying."

As you go to stab the man, he stops you by sinking his teeth into your neck, freezing you in place as pain takes over. Just a split second after that, you break out of the trance and find the strength to push him away hard enough that he falls. "Holy shit you're just as insane as him," you say, referring to the man just a few feet away from the two of you. He had biten deep enough to draw blood. Your neck aches, a throbbing pain radiates from the bite. You'd never gotten attacked before, you were always the hunter, not the prey.

The man on the ground doesn't make an effort to get up. He only licks the remaining blood on his lips. "I can definitely see why Zihao loved you so dearly to even keep you away from his family. You're too delicious to share." "You fuc—" your words are cut off by the sudden sensation your body is hit by. Your face contort as your body begins to feel oddly hot, "what the actual fuck did you do to me..!" You barely had any energy to yell the words out as your legs were almost giving out. It was then that Zarek finally got up from the ground, approaching you as you backed away, closing the distance between you and Zihao.

Zarek snatches you into his arms, almost as if holding you hostage as your back is pressed against his. You to your left to see his maniacal expression, he looks as if he's about to devour you full. "This is going to be a lot of fun," he can barely contain the excitement in his voice. Zihao's eyes widen in anger as Zarek's hand roam around your body ss you were helpless. All you wanted to do was stab him right now but you weren't in control of your body.

You close your eyes, wanting this shit to just end already when everything went...quiet. well, except the spund of something tumbling on the leaves. The disgusting hands once on you were gone. When you open your eyes once more, you see that Zihao has somehow broken free of his restraints, his horns and tail out and about. You look behind to see Zarek's dead body. His body pratically sliced in half as his eyes are wide open.

You didn't know how to react as the sensation still hadn't faded. Zihao instantly ran towards you, both his hands cupping your face, looking into your eyes, "[Name]." He says your name, over and over again, as if desperate and not wanting to lose you. You've never seen him in this state. "You're never leaving my side, ever fucking again." His voice changes, you feel weak under his gaze. You're too out of it to even protest even when you really want to. "Zihao...," you call out in almost desperation in your voice. Zihao notices the tent in your pants, realizing what the effects were. "That fuckward." He says, malice in his voice.

"Goddammit, just fuck me right now!" You grab his collar and initiate a kiss. It's deep and full of lust. You haven't felt his lips in so long. The contact drives you crazy. His soft lips against yours. His long tongue which pushes itself into your mouth and almost down your throat.

The two of you break the kiss. "Let's go back home—" "no. Fuck me right here, right now, bastard." Zihao looks at you with lust filled eyes. It's clear he's been holding back, thinking of you. "[Name]. I won't stop even if you ask me to."

In just a few minutes, one of his dicks is already deep inside you. You're being held up by him, your back against a tree as your legs are limp. One on his shoulder as the other layed limp in his hand, wrapped by his long tail. Your pants long discarded while he still had his on low enough to let his cocks out. "[Name] you don't know how long I've been waiting." His voice is full of anger and lust, thrusting into you roughly and with an inhuman speed, not caring for your screams. If someone were to walk even a few miles into the forest, they would hear your wonderful moans. Even as your fingernails dig into his flesh, he doesn't seem to feel it as he's only focusing on fucking you so full of cum that you don't even think of escaping ever again.

The purple mark on your lower stomach which has dissapeared before, reappeared and this time, it's going to stay. "You're mine, all mine, nobody else can take you." He then bites into the same area Zarek had bitten, making you arch, your eyes wide but the sensation wasn't really painful, it somehow filled you with bliss. You felt safe, protected. You leaned your head on his shoulder as he continued to pound your ass.

"Hah...agh mm..Zihao!" You screamed out his name, indicating you were close to your climax. Soon enough, you came as he continued his powerful thrusts. Having just came, you were even more sensitive. Your body trembling, "you're still so...tight even after all this fucking. Hah...Gods, you were really made for me." His thrusts went even faster as he chased his own climax, the sound if your ass being pounded so hard clear as day.

He cums inside of you, no cum escapes as he leave his cock inside, plugging your hole. Just as you were about to catch your breath, his second cock entered slowly but surely. You close your eyes, bracing for the pain of it all. After both of his cocks are in, you felt too full to even talk. You've felt this multiple times before but it still manages to surprise you each time. "I-it's too much..ah..," you moan as he lifts you up, leaving just the tips of his cocks in, "I need to claim you fully," was all Zihao said before he thrusts all the way into you, balls deep. You scream at the sensation, so full of cock. As he thrusts in and out, you can hear squelching noises as his cum practically acted as lube. His grunts indicated how pleasured he is, fucking you so hard. Your beautiful noises encouraging him even more.

"Don't ever, ever...agh..Leave me again." He says, his words having a hint of desperation, wanting to hold you even closer than right now even if it's impossible. "M..mhm..aCK—" his cocks manage to hit your spot just right, making you see stars. Your mind goes blank. Zihao notices this and takes advantage of it. He thrusts deep inside to hit your prostate on purpose. You could only lay limp and take all of it, moaning so much you know you'll lose your voice the day after. The dragon's grunts accompanied by his fast and rough pounding manages to make you even more horny. "Only you can handle me, [Name]," he states and you know it's a fact. Who else would be able to take two cocks at once? Certainly not anyone you know.

He squeezes your thigh with his hand, his nails almost digging into your skin. Due to the pain and pleasure of taking both cocks, you bite down on his neck, leaving an equal mark. But, you don't let go even after tasting his blood. It has a metalic taste just like any other but you were almost addicted to it after the first taste. The flavour is just...enticing.

Zihao barely noticed his flesh being pierced by your teeth, the amount of pleasure he was in just fucking you was indescribable. How could he even focus on anything else but your tight walls squeezing around his cocks? He wanted to pump you so full of cum you could never walk again. So that you would always remain by his side. Never to escape again.

After several deep thrusts, the two of you cum at the same time with him cumming inside while you splurt all over the both of you. "AGH...!aH!" You moan as loud as your voice could, Zihao moaning with you as he felt himself unload inside. Even as he's cumming, he's still thrusting as if there's no tomorrow. "Z-zihao AhHhhHh..." You didn't even have a chance to protest. You were already too weak to yell at him for his relentless thrusts.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

"You've been awfully..agh, quiet, [Name]," Zihao says with a smug look on his face, clearly knowing why that was the case. "You're practically drooling now." And that, you were. Your body limp whilst Zihao pounded your redish hole over and over again, leaving you no room to take a breather. You knew he loved to fuck multiple times in a row but..this has got to be a world record! His libido is insane. You couldn't even think of that as your brain was practically mush now, leaving you no room for thought that wasn't about the judge infront of you right now. Maybe oh just maybe if you hadn't gotten caught a few months back, you wouldn't be here today, being stuffed so full and fucked so dumb that nobody would ever think of you as the dangerous serial murderer you actually were. Or maybe that is what Judge Liu wants.

Your mind can barely process his words after he stops thrusting. "[Name], take a good look." He points below, prompting you to look at the direction of his finger. What you see if your belly swollen, full of cocks and cum as there's droplets of cum flowing out of your hole as you couldn't take anymore inside. You could kill 100 men and it wouldn't feel this tiring, as you look up at him, he grabs your chin to face him. "You're forever mine. Don't forget it, my mate." Before long, you close your eyes, falling unconscious.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

When you awoke, you found yourself in the same room you had desperately tried to escape from months back. But this time, you felt more at home than anything. You knew better than to get up, just moving around slightly ached. "Fuck fuck fuck." You curse at nobody in particular as every part of your body hurted like shit. Well at least your hole's not dripping with cum anymore. "Where the fuck is that bastard," the words fall out of your mouth naturally, referring to the culprit, Liu Zihao.

Footsteps can be heard as someone's walking closer and closer to your room. Speak of the devil. Before long, in walks the Judge Liu in all his glory with...a tray of food and drink? "[Name], you're awake," he says, his voice as delicate as flower qs he approaches you with the tray, setting it on the table next to you. "Here, you've been out for long." He goes to feed you some water, holding it up to your mouth as you slowly get up, sitting upright on the bed even if it hurts. "Take a sip at least." He waits until you drink almost half of it due to dehydration. "Hah, what would the people say seeing the Judge Liu feeding a murderer a drink?" You smirk at the guy as he sets the water down. He looks back at you with a sigh. "Don’t ever leave me again. You know the dangers. Especially after facing Zarek. He's sure to return once more." Upon hearing this, you were confused, "he's dead though, you sliced that fucker in half, I saw." "We dragons are different, even if our physical bodies are destroyed, we can come back so long as..nevermind. Just know that he'll be back for you so..stay."

"As if! I enjoyed my freedom to the fullest." You were lying through your teeth. You had felt a piece of you missing when you were away from him, you were definitely homesick—but of course you wouldn't tell him that!

Zihao looks at you with a displeased look before moving like the flash. In just a moment, your hands are pinned to the headboard as your legs parted to make room for his figure. "Then maybe I'll have to fuck that rebellion out of you." He licks his lips with his elongated serpent tongue, his eyes already glowing as the slits became even more visible. You shivered, knowing what was about to happen. Maybe it was out of excitement or perhaps fear.

══════════════════════════════

Guess who's back!! Finally! I'm so sorry for making you guys wait so long, I was super swarmed by work💔🫠

[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.

[elysianightsss]

RUN FROM ME DARLIN, YOU BETTER RUN FOR YOUR LIFE | PART ONE

Rejection. Open and hollow, stinging like a cat scratch, it’s monumental and abstract and it’s everything you never knew you wanted. Being rejected put you in this position, you could say it made you vulnerable but with the way his rough calloused hands manoeuvred over your skin, you could say it was worth it.

The way his half mast cerulean eyes rake over you, a prize to be earned. Something he’s going to win, not that he knows that yet. You’ll make him work for it, that much he does know though.

You’re deep in the infatuation of it even if you wish that’s not true. You relish in the feeling of his gaze on you, soft but yet somehow cold and distant. It sparks the interest you thought long gone. Dead and buried. The ends of it frayed like the neurons of your brain. Unravelled and worn at the edges.

Something dark and deceitful urges you to step forward, tempting you with the musky aroma of him. Something you’d like to devour whole if you could. The faint redolence of cigar smoke hung on his clothes.

He licked his thin chapped lips imagining the way his tongue would slide over your supple skin and despite the dull gnawing of insecurity that has grown since adolescence, you can imagine it too. His willpower hedging with every moment that slowly passes by, every moment that agonisingly ticks by.

The sweet decadence of your pulsing cunt lingers in the cold air, your nipples pebbling beneath your cotton night gown. He breathes in deep, harsh. A hint of mania colouring his grin as he groans at the smell of you, the scent you’re exposing yourself to him with. A poor little bunny trapped in the lions den….

Then he’s leaning in, parted lips inches from his. The thick beard on his face prickling against the skin of your chin. His breath mixing with yours, heat and desperation so present in the air. It hangs heavily around you, makes your knees weak.

Then his lips are moving, but nothing is coming out. He’s talking but it’s quite literally falling on deaf ears. You can’t hear a word he is saying. You frown, pulling away when a loud, obnoxious roar starts pestering you. It’s weaving its way behind your eyes, mixing with the light that doesn’t go no matter how hard you squeeze your eyes.

You’re soon fluttering them open, groggy and just the perfect amount of warm, you don’t want to move a muscle. You’re weak in a good way. In that, the duvet is heavy but not too heavy, you’re warm but not burning and if you pulled your curtains back into place so the moonlight wasn’t streaking through you’d fall right back to sleep.

That is if the thunder outside wasn’t annoyingly loud keeping you awake. Closing your eyes for a moment, you take a breath before sitting up not at all ready to start the day, especially not at four am in the morning but with the loudness outside you wouldn’t be getting any sleep anytime soon, so at least getting out of bed would be a start.

Everything seems to be happening in slow motion as you comb through your wardrobe looking for something to throw over your pyjamas as a chill seeps into your bones, teeth beginning to chatter just as you pull on a soft, knitted sweater. You’re all long sighs, slow blinking and yawning every few minutes like you hadn’t just slept eight hours straight.

You feel out of it as you slide the sweater over your head, you’re practically falling back to sleep with your head resting on your arched knee while you pull on a pair of socks. It feels as though you hadn’t even slept a second when you’re pouring the milk into your tea, eyes all blurry and head starting to ache.

Your hands pause mid grabbing a spoon from your kitchen drawer, the dream. The vivid dream. The very real feeling of his rough calloused hands grazing over your skin, you can almost still feel the ghost of it on your arms. It makes you shiver. But you try to forget and by the time the sun comes up and a fog rolls in your successful.

October came in with golden days and silver nights, foggy mornings and coffee iced. It soothed your soul to see the harvest moon in the sky at night, brightened your heart when you spotted all the pumpkin patch picking signs dotted around town.

Town, you barely frequent it. If feels like a ghost town, hollow and not at all lived in. It’s more than an hour away from the cottage you were living in but there are these rare moments when you long for civilisation, so you put up with the drive there. Say hello to a few locals, grab some more food to stock your pantry with and leave feeling a little bit more socially charged than before.

This was one of those times. You smiled at the pumpkin patch and Halloween bash signs on the town events board. Hands full of bags after doing some food shopping. You even treated yourself to a new heavy weighted blanket, half off and so soft.

“Looks fun doesn’t it?” You jump, unnaturally on edge which the guy who spoke seems to notice. “Sorry, I come in peace I promise.��� He smiles softly at you, American you noted, up here in the highlands. It makes your back tense and your shoulders stiff, a nervousness settling into your skin like a tattoo.

“It’s okay. I’m just a jumpy person.” You lie smoothly. You weren’t jumpy by far. You were highly trained not to be, but that had all changed after them. Maybe you were a little jumpy now.

“So you gonna go?” He asks and it makes your frown, you were so lost in thought about the monsters under your bed that you think you missed something. Then he points to the Halloween bash poster stapled to the board. His brown hair blowing in the cold breeze as he looks at you.

“Oh! No, not really my thing.” Another lie. You loved a good party, the dresses, the drinks, the dancing. You would love to go to one again, when you could be carefree enough to know you’re not being watched and no one was after you.

“So what is your thing?” He asks with a small smile, teeth showing and tender eyes. He didn’t look like a threat but you can never be too careful these days.

“I don’t know knitting.” You say outright before walking away but he follows you, you really don’t want to be rude to a local, maybe just this once if he doesn’t leave you alone? But it would draw attention to you, create whispers about you, the very thing you don’t want.

“Just knitting? You don’t have any other hobbies?” Interested or intel? You weren’t sure at this moment and maybe you’d never be sure again. You thought they were just interested and yet here you were hiding from them.

“Reading.” You don’t stop walking away from him, even hitting him with a ‘nice to meet you’ over your shoulder. He seems to get the message and stops following you. You keep looking back to make sure he goes away and he does, back to the town board thankfully giving you enough time to slip through the back alley of the store where you parked your jeep.

You load up the boot and get strapped in before you start driving off. You wouldn’t be coming back for a bit longer than usual, you didn’t want to create a pattern. Patterns are easy to track. You needed to be unusual. You do your regular checks, gun in one hand, knife in the other as you enter the cottage.

You were with them for months you know how they work and how they fight. You’re an outstanding tracker, they had noted. You would know if they were here and how to escape them. Thankfully it didn’t come to that. The place was clear. You really needed to get a dog or something.

You unpacked the bags and parked the car around the back hiding it under some waterproof tarpaulin. After putting all the food away, you made pasta for dinner and got cosy under the new blanket while you watched the next episode of Gilmore Girls.

This was what you did now, binged watched tv shows and movies you never had time to watch growing up. Who could blame you, when other girls were watching these shows and fawning over two vampire brothers and a human girl, you were fighting other unlucky girls and learning how to build bombs, resist poison and how to kill.

You were always jealous that Kate hadn’t been put in the red room by your parents like you had. She was their favourite you knew that, and even though she wouldn’t admit it, she knew it too.

8 months ago ~

Your leg bounced as you sat in your designated seat on the Boeing CH-47 Chinook, new by the looks of it. You weren’t anxious, not that you’d admit it even if you were, you just know what happens every time you see Kate; all the feelings that come up that you’d rather not deal with. All the hurt you’ve tried desperately to avoid. It was all going to come rushing back, you just know it.

The helicopter landed and the ramp door opened, you moved from the main cabin following all the other passengers off the tandem-rotor helicopter. The sky was cloudy and atmosphere cold. It made you miss the heat of Malta, the sunbeds and cocktails but then again that’s how this whole mess got started.

A squad in camouflage gear were doing drills just off to your right, a couple of other teams were either coming back from missions or just heading out for them. Then you spotted her, Kate Laswell and her precious little 141. You practically spat the words in your head.

Slinging your duffle bag strap over your shoulder you stalked towards the group of five, past the soldiers jogging in a pack following a drill sergeant with a particularly loud mouth. You pushed though the crowds and descended on your target. Just as you reached her, she turned ready to walk inside the base only to find you blocking her path.

Kate gasped out your name, eyes wide with shock and body frozen. The reaction made you smirk, giving you a sick sense of pride for eliciting such a reaction from her.

“Hello sister.” The Russian accent swirling around your words was thick.

Kate stutters in her words not knowing what to say back to you other than an uneasy, “What are you doing here?”

“Well that’s not very nice to say to a family member who just flew 7 hours just to come see you.” You scoff looking her up and down with distaste.

“Wh-Why would you do that?” She cringes at how scared she sounds.

“I have some information for you, a mission too if you’re interested. All I know is I want nothing to do with it. This is something the military should deal with, not me.” You huff, eyes drifting to the bulky men stood behind her just by the four by four car.

“We should talk inside.” She says holding her hand out in the direction she wishes for you to go.

“You first.” You narrow your eyes, distrust burning in them. She nods and gestures for her team to follow.

You slam the haul of around thirteen red vials on top the table once you’re inside the debriefing room. Price and Ghost take a seat at the table to the left of where you stand, Soap and Gaz choose to stay standing by them. Kate rounding the table opposite you.

“It’s a chemical agent. The red dust is a gas used to free mind controlled victims from their subjugation. Dreykov has been trying to destroy it. One of the freed windows sent it to me and was killed for it too.” You stare at your estranged sister as she hangs on your every word, frown full of worry.

“What is a widow?” The man who was introduced to you as Soap MacTavish, while you walked inside the barracks, asks sounding genuinely confused. You scoff letting out a little laugh afterwards.

“God no wonder.” You shake your head the smile still on your lips but there was only anger on your face, “I kept checking in with my contacts to see if the famous Kate Laswell had taken down the red room for another one of those amazing promotions. But nothing.”

Kate looked speechless, unable to form any words without making the situation worse. Without pumping more hate into you, like that was even possible. The way you looked at her, like if she said one wrong thing you’d grab the knife in your thigh holster and throw it right between her eyes.

You turn to the four large men to the left of you, “A widow is a kidnapped girl who is brutally trained to become an assassin. The Red Room is the name of the place we are kept. The Black Widow program is one of the KGB’s espionage training programmes run by a man called Dreykov.” You explain, taking in their faces. They don’t look horrified but definitely suprised.

“Maybe one in twenty survives the training and becomes a window. The rest he kills. To him we are just things.” Your fists tighten, a dark look growing upon your face that makes even Ghost shift in his seat. “Weapons with no faces that he can just throw away because there is always more.” Your upper lip curls with disgust and for a moment Gaz thinks you’re going to let out a snarl. “He sees us as trash that is thrown away and he is simply recycling us.”

“Is this…” Kate takes a breath, short and shaky. The team thinks it’s the first time they’ve seen her waver, first time she looks unsure before speaking, gesturing towards the red vials “Is that what they did to you?” She looks at you through her lashes, her face pained.

“No. What I experienced was physiological conditioning for years.” You ignore the sharp inhale you hear to the left of you and keep talking,“I’m talking about chemically altering brain functions. They’re two completely different things.”

“You’re fully conscious but you don’t know which part is you,” you look down at the red chemical vials, “I’m still not sure.” Price takes in the lost look on your face, the frown that pulls your eyebrows so tight together it must hurt. He’s seen it before, in Simon’s eyes. “They could ask you to stop breathing and you’d have no choice but to obey.”

“Let my team do what they do best.” You raise an eyebrow in question. “Let them destroy this place and kill the man in charge.” Kate reaches for your hand but you’re quick to pull away as if her touch is furiously hot and would burn you. She feels her heart ache, missing the days you used to call her Katie and cling to her touch with nothing but happiness behind your eyes. Now there is nothing but bitter darkness.

“Even though the red room is impossible to find and Dreykov is too slippery to kill?” You scoff, leaning back from the table and crossing your arms defensively in front of your chest.

“It’s what we do lass.” MacTavish gives you a little smile, almost trying reassure you that they could do it. That they could slay your demon.

“That sounds like a shitload of work.” Price barks out a laugh at your words.

“Maybe so. But it would save a lot of girls in the future.” Gaz countered, looking serious.

“Good luck fighting them. We’re trained specifically to copy our opponent’s fight style. Don’t underestimate them.” You try to warn them as best you can but you can see the cocky pride in them after winning the majority of their battles.

“I think we can handle them, you too.” Ghost declared with an air of amusement and a slight warning, one he’s wanted to say since you showed up. Your face drops, becoming void of all emotion as you lean forward, pressing your palms flat to the cold table. You lean in close to Ghost, eyes darkening as you do so.

“I was selected by a program that assessed the genetic potential in infants. A bargain was struck and they paid my parents off. They were more than happy to get rid of me in exchange for the cash.” You glance at Kate who has tears in her eyes, her sadness makes you glare, whipping your head back to the skull.

“I went on to become the greatest child assassin the world has ever know. Six hundred and seventy one confirmed kills by the time I was fifteen.” Ghost adjusts himself in his seat, moving back a bit and double checking to make sure his mask was on properly. Hiding his true feelings from the feral little thing in front of him. The way you stared at him, he felt like you could see right through him.

“They were so proud that no one could match my efficiency and ruthlessness. That���s the only reason they didn’t rip out my uterus and ovaries like they did to the other girls. Your pretty mask doesn’t scare me. Whatever nightmares you could conjure up, are dreams compared to what’s behind me.” You scowl, glowering at the man in front of you. He shifts once again, uncomfortable. The sight of this big man fidgeting under your gaze has a smirk crawling onto your face once again while you move back.

“I’m so sorry.” Kate chokes out, tears streaming down her cheeks now. “I didn’t know that-“

“Oh please.” You cut her off, “you must of known. That’s why you were more than okay to let our parents use me for that pathetic mission that earned you the promotion to your current position.” You spat before pointing to the vials.

Before Kate could refuse anything you cut her off, “Do what you want. It’s not my concern anymore, I have to leave now or I’ll miss the heli out of here. There won’t be another for a week and I’d rather not spend all that time with the five of you.” You go to turn but it’s a hand reaching for your shoulder that stops you.

The hand doesn’t even touch you before you’re reaching for it yourself, bending it once you’ve grabbed hold. You use your grip on the wrist to spin behind the person, twisting their arm behind their back and holding it there as you kick their legs swiftly. They fall to the ground, staring back up at you in surprise.

The chairs groaning against the floor fall on deaf ears, you’re still on edge, like a caged animal finally been let out and ready to fight anything that looks even remotely like a threat. Soap helps Gaz off the floor, ocean eyes never leaving you as he does so.

“I’m sorry that was stupid of me.” Kyle is quick to apologize though he isn’t quite sure why. Is it because his heart ached so much when you shared your painful story so casually just to shut Ghost up? Is it because he found you drop dead gorgeous? He’s not sure. All he knows is he wants to wrap you in his arms and never let the world touch you again, it had done so much damage to you already.

You breath in and out deep, slow. Calming yourself in the way you taught yourself. Meditation was one of the first things you learnt after you escaped the red room, it was either that or attack anyone who looked at you the wrong way.

You grab your duffle bag, with one last glance at Kate and the red vials still on the table, you left.

To be continued…

[starlightxsvt]

Appeal | sibilance. 4

synopsis ➳ ❝he has appealed and now, you have a serious decision to make. ❞

pairing ➳ lawyer fem!reader x rich badboy!wonwoo ft. Jeonghan genre ➳ angst, drama. word count ➳ 5.6k warnings ➳ cursing, slight love triangle, lots of pining, a bit of lying and deceit ig (this is pretty tame overall)

previous chapter

Wonwoo’s grip on your wrist is bruising.

He drags you with him, not stopping despite your complaints and resistance while you clumsily try to keep up, managing your dress with your free hand.

When the door of the private dressing room closes behind you with a loud thud, silence settles and he finally lets go of your hand. You remain pressed against the door, watching him with bated breath. 

The man takes a few steps away from you before turning to face you, a somber look on his face.

Then, he is down on his knees.

—

15 MINUTES EARLIER

Jeonghan’s words have stunned you into silence and you are still scrambling for an answer. Moments pass and as words fail to leave your mouth, Wonwoo marches towards the two of you with a determined look and frees your hand from Jeonghan’s.

“We need to talk.” That is all he states before pulling you away and into the corridor, back to where you just fled.

“Wha—” You turn back to look at Jeonghan while trying to free your hand from Wonwoo’s stone grip. Your colleague remains rooted in his spot, looking at you impassively. His gaze is foreign and distant, appearing almost neutral, giving you a hard time decoding his thoughts.

Fuck, what is going on?

This entire night has been a roller coaster, the majority of which has been spent with Wonwoo dragging you behind him whenever and wherever. 

“Wonwoo, for fucks sake…I told you—” You hiss, trying to pry his fingers off your wrist with your right hand.

He suddenly stops, prompting you to almost collide with his back.

"___," he inhales shakily, his pupils wide and shining. "I promise I'll let you go. I just need ten minutes of your time. That's the only thing I'll ever ask of you. We can never see each other again after this and I’ll be fine with that…but I need you to wait for me. I need to be on the stage right now. I'll finish as quickly as possible and then, just give me five minutes to talk to you." You see his throat bob as he swallows. 

His grip on your hand tightens. "I just need you to hear me out. Once. Please."

Your throat suddenly feels dry, as if the next word you speak will come out as a wheeze. You take a moment, peering into his eyes before swallowing the growing lump in your throat and then nodding. "Okay."

"Thank you." He squeezes your hand, his eyes shining.

From the grand hall room, you hear the emcee call for Wonwoo and the hushed chatters of the room growing louder and louder. 

“I'll be back quickly. Just wait for me in the dressing room.”

“Just go.” You tilt your chin, pointing behind him as the emcee calls his name for a second time and he lets go of your hand, jogging towards the ballroom while turning his head back to take glances at you.

From outside the room, in the corridor, where you stand, you watch him walk up to the stage and stand behind the podium. The people in the crowd are going crazy, putting two and two together. Wonwoo appears in front of them for the first time as Jeon Wonwoo, the chairman's only son, not the new shy and nerdy marketing department employee. 

Despite it being his acceptance speech, he makes it quick. As soon as he's done, he rushes back down the stage, politely excusing himself from everyone as he hurries out of the room and drags you away from the hundreds of pairs of eyes now eagerly set on him. 

Soon, once again, you are inside the dressing room with Wonwoo, hidden from the prying eyes of the world.

—

“Wonwoo…” You gasp, alarmed to see him on his knees.

“Please, just listen to me.”

“Can you get up first—”

“I am sorry!” He cries out, his fingers gripping the expensive fabric of his pants as he gazes up at you. It is weird and unnerving to see Wonwoo, dressed so formally, on his knees begging for your forgiveness.

If his plans were to catch your attention, he has succeeded.

Flabbergasted, you watch him, your body frozen awkwardly as you look into the turbulent storm clouding his eyes. 

You have never seen him look so sincere yet so in despair.

“I am sorry for everything.” He sighs, his head hanging low. “I had a plan, I swear. I really wanted to do this right. I brought up the topic of my father trying to get me married only to let you know that I am serious about you. I told him no. I told him I have someone that I love. I understand how you feel about me, I really do. I did not treat you well and you…you deserve so much better but I swear on my dying breath that I will treat you right this time. I only need one last chance.”

You are still rooted in your place, not breaking eye contact with him as the breath you were holding until now finally escapes. Despite the palms of your hands growing cold, the room suddenly feels hot and you want to voice it out but somehow, you lack the strength.

He continues. “I understand that there is someone else who likes you. And I also accept that you might like him back. What I’m asking you to do is consider. Consider me as an option. Don’t kick me out of the equation just yet, please. When you go home tonight, just think about giving me one final chance. You can take your time. I am ready to wait for you for eternity. I mean it, ____.”

As his words come to a halt, thick, heavy silence hangs in the air.

“Will you please stand up now?” You whisper finally.

He does so, slowly and then stands in front of you with his hands clasped in front of him, looking like a guilty criminal waiting for his hearing.

“Can I go home now?” You whisper again, your voice shaky. Right now, you are too frazzled to even think. You need to be as far away from him, from the world as possible. 

You don’t miss the disappointment flicker in his eyes but he handles it well. “Of course. Will you allow my driver to drop you home?”

“I want to take a cab.” You reply immediately, your tone final.

Wonwoo nods silently.

You watch him for a moment longer before standing up straight and taking a deep inhale. Then you turn around and twist the door knob open. 

“Goodnight. Get home safe.”

You stand in silence for a moment. 

“Good night, Wonwoo.” You murmur, not looking back.

—

The steam continues to bloom from the cup of your coffee as you stare at it, your head lost in the clouds.

Last night was hectic. 

That was a gross understatement.

So much happened last night that you are still processing the events one by one, dissecting them into little pieces carefully. You caught a cab straight home, took off your dress, and lay in the bathtub for two hours, staring at the ceiling. Never in a million years did you imagine that to be the end of your night but truly, that was how it ended.

Your sleep was poor and now, at 9 in the morning, as you sit by the window of the living room of your apartment, gazing at the city skyline and sipping your coffee, you wait for that moment of clarity to hit you.

It never comes. 

Your brain is still a jumbled mess, replaying the same few moments from last night without any thoughtful input.

Jeonghan could not have meant that really, could he? And how much can you trust Wonwoo’s words? How much of a wise decision would it be to go down that path again? Do you truly have it in yourself to go through another heartbreak from him?

You realize how you only keep thinking of Wonwoo and his actions when Jeonghan was the one who dropped the bomb on you last night. Old habits die hard, you suppose.

You cannot let this go on, though. You have to start somewhere and as you empty your cup of coffee, you decide to talk to Jeonghan first.

He texted you last night, asking if you got home safe and you left him on read, not finding the energy within you to reply.

With a soft sigh, you reach for your phone and type out a message to him.

You: Hey. Can we meet up?

His reply comes within two minutes.

Yoon J: Of course. When are you free?

You: In an hour maybe.

—

The slight chill in the breeze is comforting, soothing your heated skin. 

You have been walking around the park for the past half an hour, trying to distract yourself from the overflow of thoughts and theories in your mind. After completing four laps around the park, you sit on a bench and catch your breath, observing a father teaching his daughter how to ride a bike. Her squeals of excitement are loud enough to reach your ears and make you smile as momentarily, all the thoughts slip away from your head.

Then, you are snapped back into reality.

“Hey.” Jeonghan smiles, tentatively sitting next to you.

You turn to your left and watch him sit down, maintaining a good distance from you.

“Hi.” You give him a small smile. 

“Got home alright?” He asks. His demeanor is calm and friendly as usual, like nothing happened last night and you almost start to think that it was all a dream. 

Jeonghan keeps looking at you expectantly, that soft smile always playing on his lips as the gentle spring breeze wooshes by, blowing the flimsy, golden locks of his hair.

“How do you do this?” You whisper, subtly shaking your head in wonder.

“Do what?” he blinks.

You exhale, using a hand to brush back the rebellious strands of your hair. “You…you are always so…easy and friendly and nonchalant… Jeonghan, how do you do it?”

The man stares at you in silence for a few beats. His demeanor shifts like he is shedding a mask, and his expression grows somber.

“I don’t know,” he replies, looking at the ground. “I never take anything too seriously, I suppose. Life is already messy as it is. Why make it worse by stressing over everything?”

You gaze at him briefly before voicing the question softly, “Did you mean what you said last night?”

Another pause. Jeonghan does not break eye contact with you but from the unfocused look in his eyes, you see his mind running. 

“Yes or no, Jeonghan.”

“Both.” He mutters. “I…Let me explain.” He exhales loudly and shifts in his position, angling his body so he can look at you better. 

“Last night what I said…it was a test. For you and Wonwoo.” He pauses, his eyes flickering around as he searches for the right words. “You see, I saw him following you and I had to pose the ultimatum. I say it was a test for you because if you rejected me immediately, I would know for sure that you had feelings for the kid. Hell, I was even expecting a slap from you. But you didn’t do any of that. You looked like you saw a ghost and I honestly don’t know how to interpret that reaction.” He shakes his head, a small smile growing on his lips.

“As for Wonwoo, he passed the text. With flying colours, I must admit. I wanted him to hear my confession because I needed to see what he would do. If he turned around and left like a pussy, which…I thought he would, then I would have the green light.”

“For what?”

“To pursue you.” Jeonghan doesn’t break eye contact. “I…felt guilty sometimes, you know, wondering if I was coming in between the two of you. You and I both know you have not been able to move on from him completely. I wanted to check if he felt the same way about you and he does. I guess my confessing to you finally triggered him. That was the manliest I ever saw him.”

As the gravity of his words settles on you, you cannot help but scoff. “Am I a joke to you all?”

“What? No! Never! Why would you think that?”

“You told me to go out with you, Jeonghan!”

“Do you think I was lying?” Jeoghan scoots closer to you. Grabbing your upper arms, he forces your body to face his. “Look at me.”

With a grunt of annoyance, you do so.

“I like you, ___. You are smart, kind, funny, beautiful and capable and all good things so it's hard not to fall for you. But I will not force myself in your life when you and Wonwoo are still unfinished. I needed to know where he stood so I did not feel guilty pursuing you seriously. Trust me, if he let you go yesterday, things right now would have been a lot different.”

This is the first time you have seen Jeonghan be so serious.

“You mean a lot to me.” He continues, resting his hand on the top of yours. “As a friend, as a colleague. I did not…I do not want to ruin this friendship by loving you in a way I am not allowed to. I do not want to break my own heart or yours. I’m sorry that I took you by surprise with my confession. And I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

A small sigh parts from your lips as you stare at your shoes. As always, Jeonghan and his way with words.

You peer at his face. “It’s okay. But…I…I don’t know if I can return—”

“I know, I know.” He interrupts you, holding his palms up in surrender. “No need to rub salt on my fresh, gaping wounds. I figured that much after you left me on read yesterday.”

You roll your eyes, unable to hold back a small, throaty chuckle. 

“How dare you laugh at my misery?” Jeonghan cries out dramatically, making you laugh harder. Soon you are both laughing and you feel the tension surrounding you dissipate into nothingness. When you two have composed yourself, he questions, “So, what did he say after he dragged you away like a knight in shining armour?”

You fall silent, thinking about the words Wonwoo shared last night. Your colleague leans closer and closer to your face, his eyes shining with childlike curiosity. 

“Ugh— move away!” You shove him backwards playfully.

“Don’t tell me he cried!”

“No!”

He didn’t cry but he got on his knees and begged for a second chance. But you decide not to share that and tarnish Wonwoo’s image. Jeonghan would never let him go and you need to keep the new CEO’s image intact.

“He…said he was sorry for everything and asked for another chance. But he didn’t force anything on me. He…he asked me to consider him as an option, that’s all. He said he would wait for me no matter how long I may need.”

Jeonghan’s eyes widen and his lips part in surprise. “Did he really say that? Wow, the kid finally grew up, no? How noble of him!”

“Stop being sarcastic.” You shove his arm, narrowing your eyes at him.

Jeonghan chuckles. “No, seriously. He has changed a lot from the first time I saw him.”

You ponder the words. 

“He has indeed.” You find yourself murmuring. 

“So,” Jeonghan clasps his hands together. “What have you decided?’’

“I haven’t decided anything. Not yet. I need time to think.”

“I understand.” Jeonghan nods. “Just a tip. Even if you decide to give him another chance, don’t let him know right away. Make him suffer a little.” He grins conspicuously making you shake your head with a smile.

After a moment’s pause, you look at him. “Jeonghan?”

“Hm?”

“Are we okay? Truly?”

“All good, I promise.” He gives you a soft smile.

You smile back. “Glad to hear it because we need to work together and wrap up Mr. Kim’s case this week.”

“Ugh,” he groans, putting his hands on his head. “You only think about work, don’t you?”

—

Early morning on Monday you visit Jeon Industries to submit a few documents. With your task completed, you stand in front of the elevator, waiting for it to come up when you get a text from Chairman Jeon’s secretary.

Secretary Yu: Chairman wants to see you. When can you come by?

You: I’m in the building. I’ll be there in five.

The chairman’s office is quite barren, the walls devoid of the certificates and images that used to occupy a vast expanse of the space. As you take a seat on the couch and an assistant serves tea, you take a look around and notice cardboard boxes piled up in a corner. The top box is agape, giving you a peek into the contents inside— books and crests and other such things.

“Feels empty, no?” The chairman asks as he takes a seat. “I have been in this office since my twenties. It sometimes feels unreal, you know.”

You nod and watch him take a sip from the steaming cup.

“Will your son be using this office?” You ponder out loud.

“No, actually.” He sets the cup down. “He will use the one down the hall. So this one will remain empty for now I suppose.” He sighs, almost wistful.

You hum your acknowledgement and busy yourself with the tea, wondering why you have been summoned. He never asked you or anyone, from your knowledge, to visit him for tea and an idle chat. 

“I wanted to talk to you about something.” He states, looking directly at you. You set down your teacup and sit straighter, clasping your hands over your knees.

“You see, my son apparently has someone he likes. He refused the match I set up for him because of her. Do you have any idea who it might be?”

Oh boy. Is this a trick question? Could it be possible that someone found out about your affair and let him know? Nothing gets past Secretary Yu so you won’t be even surprised. 

With your index finger, you push your glasses over your nose bridge. “Uhm, no sir. I…don’t know anything.” You speak, putting on your best poker face.

The chairman nods. “I understand it’s weird to ask you but you know my son. He would never tell me and you have been pretty close with him. You’re the only one in the company he listens to.”

Not finding anything other than lies to say, you just nod.

“I need to know about the girl.” He continues, almost as if he’s talking to himself as he takes another sip of his tea. “If she feels the same way about him then I need to meet up with her, talk about their future. Otherwise, my son needs to marry an advantageous match. He will start his job as the CEO next week and the quicker he marries the better.”

“I understand, sir.” You reply like a parrot. Beads of sweat gather on your neck and you cannot wait to get out of this room.

Chairman Jeon sets his cup down and then looks at you. “Anyway, I was wondering if you knew anything about it. No problem if you don’t. You have been a great asset to this company. You handled all my son’s troubles very smoothly so thank you.”

“I was just doing my job, sir.”

“You sure are very good at it.” He grins. “After Mr. Kim’s case is over, take a break. It has been long overdue for you. Now that Wonwoo will take over this company, you need to be by his side. He still has a lot to learn and knowing my son, he will get in trouble and the person I trust most to get him out is you.”

You nod with a polite smile. “Thank you, sir.”

He nods. “Take a month off. I will see you again after your break.”

—

The cool afternoon air flows by, ruffling your hair and messing up the strands. You stand with your arms crossed, gazing at the view from the rooftop of your office building. The meeting with the chairman sure left you jittery, adding another worry to your already preoccupied mind. It sure does not help that you lied to him. What if he knew everything and was just testing you? 

Shit. Let’s not think that.

“Look who I found skipping work.” Jeonghan’s teasing voice makes you turn around. “Whatcha doing here?” He asks, strolling towards you with his hands in his pockets.

“I could ask you the same.” You cock an eyebrow at him.

“I had the urge to smoke. Thought I should get some fresh air to distract myself.”

“Mhmm.” You hum, looking back at the view. 

From this high up, all the buildings, even the skyscrapers appear weirdly small and unintimidating. The roads and the vehicles all appear cartoonishly minuscule and you feel like you can watch them for hours without getting bored. It is a monotonous job, standing here and watching the city breathe but it brings peace to your mind, as you zone out and the raging thoughts in your head calm down.

Jeonghan rests an arm on the railing and peeks at your face. “Looks like you are procrastinating, Lawyer ___.”

“I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Well, you can think about them after we are done with this case. We cannot be distracted now, at the very end.”

“I know.” You murmur distractedly. 

“Come on,” Jeonghan pats your shoulder. “Let’s get back to work. We have so much to get through.”

“Jeonghan?”

The man is about to walk towards the stairs when your voice stops him. “Hm?” He turns around.

“Do you think he and I are a good match?”

Jeonghan silently observes you for a moment, his lips set in a straight line. “You and Wonwoo? Yeah, why not? I would say you are too good for him but he is not all that bad, I guess. Not these days at least.” Your reply is a hum but you don’t find yourself fully convinced. After seeing the chairman today, you realized you have much more to consider. It is not about you just accepting Wonwoo. The chairman has to accept you. 

Will he do that? Can he do that? Knowing Wonwoo rejected a better, more advantageous match because of you?

“Where is this coming from? Are you seriously doubting yourself?” Jeonghan frowns, stepping closer to you to get a better look at your face.

You shake your head and force a smile, shrugging off the heavy thoughts. “You know me. Just overthinking. Come on. Let’s get going.”

You walk past him but he calls your name, making you crane your head back.

“The kid told you to consider him, right? I will add something to that. If you decide to reject him, do so because your heart wants that, not because of anything else. Not because of what others may think and definitely not because you think you are not good enough for him. Because that is not true and you know it. We all do.”

A soft, grateful smile kisses your lips. “Thank you, Jeonghan.”

The man returns your smile, walking alongside you. “Now let’s get to work, shall we?”

—

Thursday evening starts with the never ending shots of soju while you all wait for the food to arrive. It is Mr. Pi’s treat, celebrating you and Jeonghan as you have successfully wrapped up Mr. Kim’s case, earning a good reputation not just for yourselves but for the company. So of course, he is ecstatic to have a team dinner with everyone, more so than ever before.

He claps his hands loudly, demanding everyone’s attention. “Listen up! I want every one of you to get home wasted, you hear me? No one goes home sober!” He grins and then dramatically, pulls out a credit card from his breast pocket. “Guess whose card this is? Our chairman…well ex-chairman’s son, our dearest new CEO Jeon Wonwoo’s! He gave it to me, asking me to take you all to a nice dinner. So, bottoms up!”

Your boss’s revelation comes to you as a surprise. Pouring yourself a shot, you quickly gulp it down as your mind starts sprinting. Why is Wonwoo treating your team to a meal? Is it to create a better impression on the legal partner after his colourful past?

Jeonghan leans closer to you suddenly, speaking in your ear so that you can hear him over the noise and the chatter. “How benevolent of your lover!”

You roll your eyes. “God, please stop.”

He smirks, taking a shot of soju. “I will bet my right kidney, an arm, a leg, and my entire bank balance that he did it for you.”

“What?’’ You are genuinely confused. 

“Oh please.” It is his turn to roll his eyes. “He knows how hard you have been working and what other way to treat you than under the guise of a company dinner? He knows he cannot just ask you out for dinner so he does this. Quite nice of him. We all get a free meal. You bet I’m gonna drain that kid’s card tonight.” Jeonghan chuckles, his nose crinkling and he almost looks like a cartoon villain. He stands up and yells out more orders for side dishes as cheers erupt around the table.

You flinch because of the noise, finishing your shot and then excusing yourself to the bathroom. 

When you step out, you see that one of your colleagues, notorious for his terrible singing voice is belting out drunk tunes and the food is yet to be served. So, you sneakily avoid your table and step outside for some fresh air.

Not even a minute in your solitude you are interrupted by your boss.

“What are you doing here? You’re one of the stars of our show! You should be back there.”

You offer him a polite smile. “I am just tired. You know how hectic this week has been.”

“I would say you had a very hectic year.” Mr. Pi nods. “When are you going on your break?”

“It has officially started.” You grin at him. “Don’t expect to see me in the office for the next two weeks.”

“What? Only two weeks?”

You kick the pebbles on the ground, shifting from one foot to another.

“You know me, Mr. Pi. Work is my life. What will I do with a month's break? I will go crazy. At least with work…I am busy…” You trail off, your thoughts trailing back to Wonwoo.

Mr. Pi is quiet for a few long moments.

“He mentioned you.” He states, looking up at the night sky. At first, you are confused about who he is referring to. 

“When he gave me this card, he told me to take you all out to dinner and then specifically mentioned you, asking me to check up on you and make sure you eat well and get home safe.”

Your throat closes up for some reason. It is the drinks, you convince yourself.

“He is a really nice guy, you know.” Your boss continues. “I have been working with Chairman Jeon for almost twelve years now. I have known Wonwoo since his teenage days. He was a troublesome kid, for sure but he was lonely. Very lonely. His father did not understand that, he never even acknowledged it. He was very close to his mother, you know. Her death hit him very hard and things went downhill from then. He needed his father to be there for him but he never was and they grew apart. And so, he became how you saw him. A troublemaker, a spoiled brat.”

You find yourself unable to utter a word. Staring hard at the ground and not blinking, you simply nod. 

You don’t want your tears to come out, especially when you have no idea why you want to cry.

Mr. Pi softly pats your back. “Don’t stay out here for too long, hmm?” You stiffly nod once more and he leaves, stepping back into the restaurant. 

You stand outside for five more minutes, fighting the tears.

—

Jeonghan rests his head on the window of the cab, his eyes closed, his body softly jerking now and then due to the car’s movement. 

He continues humming a tune as you sit next to him and gaze at the city view passing by. The moon is bright and shining today, making the city appear almost ethereal. You briefly wonder if it's just your drunk brain casting a misty glow on everything.

It cannot be. You drank barely a bottle. For whatever reason, you did not feel like getting wasted. Maybe because you don’t trust yourself enough. Who knows what you might have done after getting wasted. Would you have shown up at Wonwoo’s house? 

Gosh, just the thought makes you cringe and you shake your head, pushing that image away.

Jeonghan shifts beside you, sitting up straight.

“You okay?”

He nods. “I hold my liquor pretty well.”

“Mhmm, sure.” You smirk.

“Seriously. I am not drunk. My head just feels heavy. I need to sleep.” He yawns and then rubs his temples. “Thank god for the weekend.”

You hum in reply.

“Any plans for your vacation?” He asks.

“Not yet.” You reply. Maybe you will go see your parents. Stay over there for a week perhaps. 

Silence cocoons inside the cab once again. You think Jeonghan has fallen asleep but looking beside, you find him staring out the window, appearing lost in his thoughts.

“I have to tell you something.” He murmurs, not looking at you.

“God, Jeonghan, I swear—”

“No, listen to me. It’s serious.” He turns to face you, his expression sincere. “I lied to you.”

You straighten your back, looking at him with a frown. 

“Remember the first time you asked me to get coffee for you? Remember how I got it just right? It’s not because you and my sister share the same taste. It was because of Wonwoo.”

“Wait, what? What do you mean?”

“He was there when I was placing our orders. He came and selected yours and then told me not to tell you. I…I didn’t tell you not because of that but because, back then, I thought I could use that to make you like me.”

You are stunned into silence.

Jeonghan looks down guiltily. “Also remember the heat pack and the pain relief patches I gave you when we had just started working on Mr. Kim’s case? They were from him too. I saw him at the coffee shop in front of our office almost every day. He used to wait there from 7 am to get a glimpse of you. He would ask me about you every day.”

Unsurprisingly, you are speechless.

You stare at your lap, fidgeting with your fingernails. You feel a lump forming on your throat and you have to swallow multiple times to clear your voice. “I see.” You whisper.

“Some time back then I realized he was serious about you. He regretted treating you that way.” Jeonghan sighs. “I can’t believe I am saying this but he is a decent guy.”

Silently, you stare at your lap, taking time to carefully observe the muted blue and grey pattern on your skirt. 

“I am sorry. Are you mad at me?” Jeonghan questions softly.

Releasing a gentle sigh, you meet his eyes. “Not really. Thank you for telling me all of that.”

He keeps looking at you impassively, almost like he cannot believe that you are not mad.

“I mean it, Jeonghan. Thank you.” You pause for a beat. “Now I can make my decision.”

Recognition dawns on his face as he nods and leans back on his seat, resting his head on the headrest. He smiles, closing his eyes, “Glad to hear it.”

The rest of the drive goes by in silence before you reach Jeonghan’s apartment complex.

“Are you sure you will be alright?” You ask, watching him unbuckle his seatbelt clumsily. “Should I walk you to your door?”

“How noble of you,” he grumbles, finally prying it off and opening the door. With wobbly feet, he steps out. “Get home safe and enjoy your vacation. I will text you tomorrow if I don’t die.” He does a two finger salute and turns around, waving his hand in dismissal. “Night.”

“Goodnight.” You yell back, watching him enter his building as the car starts moving again.

“Sir,” You refer to the old man driving the cab. “Can you take me to this place instead?”

—

Fifteen minutes later, you are at your destination.

The streets and the houses are familiar, echoing haunted memories that you have tried very hard to forget. 

You stand in front of his house, under the warm yellow porch light, hesitating to ring the bell. 

The streets are empty and quiet, not a soul in sight and you know that if someone saw you lurking out here for too long, they might call the police thinking you are a thief.

Exhaling a loud, shaky breath, you press the calling bell.

Fuck it.

A second ticks by, then another and then another. You start to think that he may not be at home. You count each second that goes by and exactly forty seconds later, the door opens.

Wonwoo, dressed in pajamas with a towel hanging around his neck stands on the other side in silence. His eyes scan you from top to bottom, twice, widening with every breath. A drop of water trickles down his forehead from his damp hair and his lips part, but no words come out. He continues staring at you in absolute bewilderment.

“Hi.” You whisper. 

series masterlist

A/N: Sorry for the delay in the update guys, but I hope this was a fun read for y'all! Gear up for a lot of romance and fluff for the next part because it will be the final part. Hopefully, it’ll be out within this month. Until then, toodles! <33 (also, drop by my ask box and let me know your thoughts!)

[moni-logues]

Pairing: Changbin x named reader (afab, she/her)

Genre: Friends-to-lovers, fake dating

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: 21k

Content: discussion of sex toys, protected piv, fingering, multiple orgasms, ambiguous sexuality (both changbin and reader), reader lifts, changbin can and does pick her up,

A/N: re-read this fic for the first time in a long time and honestly this might actually be one of my favourite fics I've written? i liked it when i wrote it and i still like it now which is frankly a miracle in and of itself so here we are. originally beta'd by @minisugakoobies and very very minorly edited (the first half anyway lol ive run out of time) since then

A Simple Favour

“I need to ask you a favour.”  

“Yeah, ok, sure.”  

“No, no, I need you to hear what it is first.”  

“Ok...”  

You sat down next to Changbin on the sofa and it was only then that he started looking as if he was paying attention.  

“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:  

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). 

You made the first move.

When in public together, you would always be prepared to act like a couple, should you run into anyone you knew. 

Changbin would lead and you would ‘yes, and’ him, no questions asked.

Absolutely no dating other people, just in case. 

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. 

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 was 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, Changbin! 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? 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 had 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 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 – 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 go. 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 started ‘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 drink, 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 knew 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 other; your 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. 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 as it swung back to his side.   

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 was 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. 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 tight fit of his 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 the 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 two kilos, maybe even five, 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. 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 really 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 deadlift—leg day, beautiful leg day—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?”  

“Now?!”

There was the surprise you were after.   

“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 laid 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 lost 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. It was white at least. “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 still wasn’t quite sure which 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 to know that that was a polite warning call from his neighbour.   

“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.”  

“Right.”   

“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?  

“I guess she forgot? I don’t know.”  

Changbin shrugged again and you felt your hackles raise.

“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 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. 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 M-”  

“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 him, 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 that 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.”  

[iheartmira]

Good day/night! If the request are still open, may I request something about your last fic of Shadow milk "Sweet words" ?

Basically Y/n with the same accent but this time they're singing like a whisper so not him or nobody could hear them

But Shadow milk was listening without Y/n noticing

Thank you so much! ★

"sweet melodies" - shadow milk cookie x reader

✧︎‬‪‪ ‪‪✧︎‬ ‪‪✧︎

shadow milk cookie wasn’t looking for you. not this time.

for once, he had no grand scheme, no elaborate trick to set into motion. he had simply been drifting through the spire of deceit, trailing his hands along the twisting walls, letting the shadows shift and coil in his wake. it was boredom, he told himself, just boredom that led him to your door.

and then he heard it.

soft. fragile. a breath of melody so delicate into the air that it almost slipped past him.

he stilled.

you were singing.

oh. ohhh.

his grip on his staff tightened, his fingers curling against its surface. a slow, wicked grin stretched across his lips as he pressed himself against the cold frame of the door, tilting his head just enough to drink in every note.

it was mesmerizing. you were mesmerizing.

that accent of yours, already so intoxicating, became something otherworldly in song. every syllable was dipped in honey, laced with a weight that sent shivers crawling down his spine. it was a sound that shouldn’t exist, something too lovely, too pure, too-

he swallowed hard, ignoring the way his heart clenched. no, no, he was the trickster here. the one who watched and laughed and spread chaos across the world. and yet…

here he was. entranced.

you had no idea he was listening. you must have thought yourself alone, unaware that every whispered note sank into his very soul, branding itself into him like an unforgiving flame.

he was utterly, hopelessly enthralled.

and then... your voice cut off. a moment of silence. then...

"…shadow milk cookie?"

ah. you had noticed.

for once in his long, long life, he was at a loss for words.

your eyes met his, wide with dawning horror, while his lips quirked into something smug, but... oh, his face were burning, wasn't it? his pupils had dilated, and he felt warm, too warm...

but he refused to let you see how much he had unraveled. so he did what he did best.

laughter spilled from his lips, his usual mockery, as he pushed off the wall with a slow clap. "well, well! what do we have here?" his grin was sharp, but his voice was breathless, still clinging to the remnants of your song.

"a performance so divine, and i wasn't even invited? truly, i am wounded!"

your face burned. you sputtered something that only made his grin stretch wider because, oh, there it was again, that accent. he leaned in, impossibly close, eyes glinting with something far too indulgent.

"you really should sing louder, my dear. why keep such a delightful little secret all to yourself?"

his voice dipped, teasing, knowing. "unless, of course… you were hoping i’d hear?~"

you shoved him away, flustered beyond reason, and fled before he could say another word.

but oh, it was too late. the melody was seared into his mind, looping, echoing, haunting him in the most delicious way.

and he would never let you live it down.

‪‪✧︎‬‪‪ ‪‪✧︎‬ ‪‪✧

‹𝟹 ‎ ⠀⠀ˑ˚₊ ·⠀interested in requesting? check out my pinned!

© 2025, iheartmira

[rollingspicevee]

I would have thought shadow milk was into bondage lol

hear me out burning spice with a darling who loves to pull his hair as hard as possible

MDNI!!!

I knew I was forgetting something! Yes, he absolutely is into bondage! Even more than Mystic Flour is! This becomes especially apparent if you’ve been naughty, such as disobeying him or worse, trying to run away. That’s when his freak really shows itself, as well as his love for the kink. He’ll use his puppet strings to rig you up in compromising positions for his own entertainment. He treats shibari as an art, and he’ll often use those strings of his to switch up your position and play around with you as he pleases. Seeing you so utterly helpless and at his mercy just does something to him. Most often though, he’ll restrict himself to just binding your wrists or tying your arms behind your back. He loves the feeling of absolute control over you that binding you gives him. A defenseless lil butterfly, entangled in his never ending web of Deceit~ Oh, you poor, poor thing… If only he could find it in his dark and lonely heart to set you free… But he’s much too clingy for that after sinking his fangs in so very deep. Oh well~ Might as well get comfy, lil mousey~ You’re not going anywhere so long as your Beast has something to say about it…

Oh, Burning Spice lives for a darling who’s feisty! He loves it in general, but when you bring it into the bedroom? Ohohoho, he couldn’t be happier! Yes! Scratch him! Bite him! Pull his hair! Ah~ such a fiery spirit! He knew he picked right!

To Burning Spice, you fighting him in any way is basically a green light to be even rougher with you, something he greatly enjoys. Beast of Destruction and all. It delights him to see how tough you are, especially in spirit. It keeps things entertaining for him.

[8ysharkstar]

Hey, can I requested the Beasts x yanderer!reader? All the five Beasts in one fic, how greedy I am~ My ideal is that reader is also a fallen hero with the Beasts and of course they are corrupted and join theirs lovers to wreaking havoc over earthbread, when the witch steal the Beasts. Reader is the only one who espaced and many years like what happens in the orginal story, when everyone think the seal is recover, reader slash the tree and help Shadow Milk get out in front of everyone and reveal that they're the six virtues who espaced many years ago... I let you continue here -_- because stuck for ideas you know:))))Hope you receive it and have fun writing it:))) I don't know if it too hard for you but hope you won't mind my greedy:'))) Sorry for bad english:))))

[ This is gonna take a while but sure!! ]

( 5 Beast Cookies x Yandere!Reader )

" if I were a beast, I'd never eat your brain! I just want your heart "

TW! Yandere theme, Obsession, plus spoilers of beast yeast 1-2,

! Yandere

> not that accurate lore?

Rcm Song; The Zombie Song | Stephanie

☆;

Passion, what could that be. Love? Strong love, Love is always in the air, I myself find my colleagues somewhat, my type... Something about them just makes me go CRAZY! My passion for them is on top of my limit! His knowledge to give, her happiness to spread, they're change and solitary to show, her dreams to fulfill theirs. I just want to.. keep them to myself, but I must keep educating my students on how to grow love to others, keep myself sane... But I felt like a need to protect them... Keep them away from other people... I just want them FOR MYSELF.

...

Leverage; ...

Those were the last words before I got myself corrupted. It was difficult to keep myself sane on most of the time, this time I broke myself. How sad? Well atleast my colleagues are the same as my kind.

I've caused havoc many eons ago, I gave them misinformation, causing them into believing and yet it shows that they're just some foolish cookies that could easily be manipulated. Cute isn't it? yet I was sealed in a silver tree. A TREE? BY THE WITCHES, But I was able to get myself out, those pests tried to seal it back, but I was able to trick those little pests, what a foolish one, to think that I was sealed away. I was not able to save my colleagues in time, I found a way but...

I found someone that shadow milk has been talking about the past time we've been trapped in the silver tree. Someone named pure vanilla cookie? Say, I might've found him in beast yeast, roaming around with his little friends, how cute? Maybe I can join in the fun to get them lured, especially HIM.

"I'll take this taken care of silverbell, well hello there the friends of white lily cookie! Welcome to the faerie kingdom, I'm margarine faerie cookie! How may I assist?"

The other seems happy to see other "faeries* talking to them, they seemed... Delighted.

"it is an honor for you to help! May you please show the way on where white lily could be"

Hearing they're voice itself feels like like a fork piercing through me. But all seriousness, really.. white lily cookie? Well, anything to get them on their tails.

As we got to white lily, it's a matter of time silver bell sent them to elder faerie, so I could think of a plan on how to lure them. Maybe if I cut the seal, which caused it to open the tree. Maybe they'll try to seal it back, my predictions to lure them, genius, I know I am!

...

Slashing it open causes everyone to get alerted by the open wounded tree. How convenient? It wasn't me, I could never! Someone else did it.

...

They are all there, it's time!

[ ! ]

The wound gotten bigger from an unrecognizable entity, could it be?

SHADOW MILK COOKIE!

He used to be know as Knowledge but now to change to Deceit, I myself, Passion to leverage? How cruel I could be to trick them into believing!

May these little foolish crumble to BITS.

We toyed with our puppets, let one die, I say it's pretty intertaning for both of us!

But both of us caught up to the fact that she was able to seal both of us back to our place. Unfair? Pretty unfair, should've been US. But atleast, I'm with my lovers again!

"say, we tried our best, but we'll get them back. And maybe we could be more than colleagues? Would do you say, my spouse's. Could we try Again, new body, physical form. Someone by the name dark enchantress could help."

Oh how much I just want them for myself, I wish we can't never seperate EVER.

THIS ONE GOT ME THINKING SO MUCH SNIXNQBZ, Anyways

[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."

[jaggedamethyst]

golden boy (prequel) ⭐️💫

jayce talis x f!reader, 4.4k words

content: the story of the day you met jayce talis two years ago...immediately after the worst moment of your life. (can be read as a one-shot, but is a prequel to my golden boy short series!)

notes/warnings: 18+ minors dni, angst, f!receiving oral, m!receiving oral, swallowing, brief handjob (wtf is the tumble phrasing for this bruh), unprotected p in v, pulling out, bondage?? (with a tie, i got creative), sub!jayce/dom reader, lmk if I missed anything as always, not proofread...my head hurting girl

ps: golden boy is still my favorite thing I've written ever...I'm happy i got to revisit them and hopefully answer some of the questions people had. even sprinkled in some of their habits that i liked and you can tell that it started from their very first interaction...its messy and somewhat unrealistic but i do think they're insanely in love. I've heard it makes people insane CTFUUU. crazy how this started over a hextech vibrator too. wtf. - amethyst 💟

series masterlist

⭑·ﾟﾟ·*:༅。.。༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅。.。༅:*·ﾟﾟ·⭑

Living in the shadows wasn’t something you had to get accustomed to, but was rather born knowing. Life as a girl in the Undercity was unique but altogether riddled with the stench of an undeveloped community—as Piltover would say at least. You loved the stench. It was more than a foul smell—an always present layer of grime. Existing in the Lanes was to always have a film on you. Whether it be of the societal norms placed on you or the physical distinction between those living above you, you were in every way considered an other. 

So it stayed the same as you grew up. Unfortunately, though, there was always an intrigue that pulled you from your hiding. No matter how hard you tried to fight it something pulled you to Piltover—to him. 

It started innocently enough. You went on dates, got to know each other, and spent inexplicable amounts of time together. It would always end, though. 

“I’ll miss you.” 

You would smile back, searching for any indication of a lie. You never saw one. 

“Can’t I stay? Just-“ you huffed at the break in your voice. “Just this once? Please?” 

“It’s best you don’t.” A hand would find your face or arm and rub it reassuringly, “I couldn’t live knowing anything happened to you.” 

Lie. 

You wished you could’ve picked up on it—how truly deceitful this man you’d grown to love had been. 

Time passed like a whirlwind; you let yourself be swept up in the idea of a hidden romance, one that was for the two of you alone. You didn’t tell him but you would watch him sometimes, sneaking glimpses into the parts of his life you could never be part of. 

He was a known man—not on the council but a close acquaintance of the renowned families. It made sense, then, that he kept you tucked away. Its okay, you’d reason. The only way to stay safe is to stay hidden. After all, it was what you were born to do. 

This day was like any other, you slightly covered, hooded, and watching while the object of your adoration smiled in conversation. The difference came in the form of a woman you’d never seen, more importantly the newborn that lie between her hands. 

It didn’t take you long to figure out that he had another life—one that he so skillfully kept you unaware of. The prospect only made your interest pique—your mind wandering to how he could do this so well, to be this pathological. 

You didn’t confront him. In fact, you weren’t supposed to be here at all—in a sea of people waiting on an announcement. Today was progress day. You’d heard rumblings of there being a huge announcement coming to Piltover which admittedly you didn’t want to miss. Everyone had the same idea—to pack in and hear from this new scientist. 

You pushed and squeezed. You mumbled apologies and excuses to snake your way through the now suffocating crowd. It was futile, though. You were forced to stand and stare. 

Jayce Talis wasn’t unknown to you. You were an observer at heart, so you’d seen him around before. It was often that he was lingering, just in the background but doing nothing of significance to catch your attention—not when it was elsewhere. He looked comfortable, not with his speech but rather on stage. Jayce had the essence of a man who belonged in front of people—presenting on a day so great at this one. 

You heard of this new boy, this man who would propel both cities alike into an unimaginable future. Seeing him there, speaking with a fluidity that enticed you, you knew he had to be him. He had to be the golden boy of Piltover. 

Blinking your eyes, you darted them over to search for him. His stare had already been on you, his entire frame slouching in guilt. You had nothing left to offer him but you figured his wife and child were enough. You wouldn’t afford him the luxury of seeing you ever again—let alone touching you. 

The end of Jayce’s speech allowed you some relief, the crowd slowly dissipating as they dispersed. You avoided eye contact, squirming into the tight spaces between people having small talk. The breeze of the outside hit you—the door opening and closing in an irregular rhythm of people entering and exiting. You were almost there, out of his life for good. 

“Got somewhere to be?” 

You froze at the sound of a man talking to the side of you. You perked up a bit, attempting to disguise yourself as someone who should be here, belongs here. 

You cleared your throat, “I have to get home. Lots of work to do—progress day doesn’t stop…the progress.” Your face twisted at the awkward joke. 

The man chuckled anyways, teetering on his feet. He let his hands clasp behind his back—exposing the tightly bound buttons of his clothing. He wore crimson and white, hints of gold and black lingering at the hems. It suited him. 

“Did you enjoy my speech?” 

“It was nothing short of inspirational.” 

Your eyes stared into one another, daring the opposing pair to look away, and yet they didn’t. 

“I should be going,” you swallowed and turned to go, a quickness in your step. 

He wasn’t sure why, but he couldn’t let you leave. “It’s raining,” he blurted out. “Is that all you have to get home?” He examined you, the lack of protective wear, and a small hood over your head. 

You glanced down at yourself, a crease in your brows. “Trust me, I’ll live.” 

A million things flashed through his mind, one of the first being how disappointed his mom would be to know that he let a woman walk alone in the rain. After this his mind lingered, though. He felt a chill at the recollection of your sharp features—the darkness there. He racked his brain further, cursing himself at how quickly he seemed to forget the intricacies of your face already.

You were almost gone. 

“Wait!” 

You heard him call behind you, a low hum of surprise escaping you. 

“I have an umbrella, I can walk you.” 

“That’s very sweet of you,” you continued to move, “But I’m good—great!”

You wanted the emphasis to say leave me alone but it screamed at him to continue, matching your hurried steps away from the building. He didn’t speak, but moved closer and let his frame tower over you. You looked up at the sudden lack of rain pelting you, finding solace in the small shelter. 

“Jayce, you’re getting yourself wet.”

He perked up at the sound of his name on your lips, secretly languishing in the sweetness. He almost forgot to acknowledge you, but settled on a shrug. 

“As long as you get home unscathed.” He continued to walk, a step for your every two. You noticed how much longer his legs were than yours, twisting your lips at that. “Speaking of,” he spoke again, “Where are we headed?” 

You paused, only just now realizing you were walking toward the outskirts of the city. 

“I’m-“ You looked around, searching for an excuse. When one didn’t find you, you gave up. You offered him a slump in your shoulders and a following shrug, “I’m not from Piltover.” 

“I know.” Jayce turned to resume his stride, slightly splashing into puddles on the ground. 

“You know?” 

“Mhm.” 

“How?” 

Without missing a beat he kept his eyes forward and pinpointed the error. “Your shoes.” 

You looked down, eyes meeting your worn footwear. “I see.” 

He nodded like it was the most simple thing—like there wasn’t such distance between you already. It made you look away, arms folding in on you as you huffed to yourself. 

“I didn’t mean to offend you.” It was too quick. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m used to it—always have been.” 

He was reading you, with a skill that came as second nature to him. Your body language, the falter in your face, the slow in your step—he noticed it. 

“You shouldn’t be.” He gripped the umbrella, “You shouldn’t be used to it. I’m sorry.” 

He looked down at you with a sincerity—you hoped it was true. You simply nodded, letting your feet lead him to your home.

“Thank you. This was nice of you…considerate.” You paused again, thinking better of continuing, but you had to. “You should come in.” 

“Really?” 

“It’s raining.” You stated plainly, like your reasoning was obvious. 

“It is.” He matched your monotone. 

A deep inhale resonated between you, “You can’t walk back in this weather. Besides,” you finally pushed your door open, “the least I can do is offer you somewhere to wait this out.” 

He surveyed you, the way you kicked your shoes off and placed them neatly by the door. He did the same, smiling softly at the action; his mom never let him walk around with dirty shoes on either. 

The effortless way you moved proved how long you’d lived here—how you could grab for something without looking or push in a piece of furniture with your hips. It was comfortable, it was home. 

“I can hang your clothes for you if you like.” 

You interrupted his thoughts, a pile of clothes in hand for him to swap into. 

“Thank you…” He paused, kicking himself. “I don’t actually know your name-“ 

You interrupted him, offering your name, letting it roll off of your lips in a way that he enjoyed more than he expected. He repeated it, too, training himself to enjoy the melody—the way it lingered there.

He moved then, pushing his now dripping blazer off of his shoulders. You swallowed, looking down at the now drenched white of his clothing clinging to his skin. His shirt was the most restrictive, settled beneath his waistcoat and attached to it from the moisture of the rain. 

He noticed your focus wandering across him. He moved slowly, loosening the buttons around his torso first, then the tie on his neck. “Hope I’m not too much of an intrusion-“ 

“Absolutely not, no.” You shook your head, “I surprisingly enjoy the company.” 

“Well,” he undoes the buttons on his wrists, “It helps to be in good company, I guess.” 

You nodded, reluctantly peeling your eyes away from him to head for the nearby kitchen. Water, you thought. Gosh your mouth had gotten so dry. 

In the second it’d taken you to grab and fill a glass, Jayce had stripped majority of his clothing. 

He spoke quickly, slightly frightened by your shocked look. “I’m sorry, I figured I shouldn’t leave a trail of my wetness all over the floors…better if there’s just one puddle, right?” 

“Right,” you blinked at him, “I’ll uh-“ You motioned behind you, a thumb waving at nothing in particular. “I’ll grab the mop.” 

Approaching him felt daunting. In the moments you saw him around you wouldn’t have assumed this quiet man was hiding beneath fabric. There was a sheer magnitude to him that even left his muscles to flex with little effort. You observed the movement of his body with every breath. 

He reached out to you, motioning to grab the mop and clean the mess he’d made. You weren’t paying attention, more focused on the way his arms looked so powerful. You completely missed him pulling the mop stick toward his own chest, and you with it. He moved with such ease, gliding you through the puddle of water, maneuvering you like it was the most minuscule thing to do so. You didn’t let go of the mop when he thought you would, and he internally thanked himself at that. Jayce was able to look at you again finally; he observed your features intently. 

Suddenly a tingle shot up and down your left side, as if it were hitting your heart and exploding outward. You could tell he felt it, whatever it was. 

The feeling brewing between you was begging to be explore…bubbling like a kettle settled on a stove. It was as if the metaphorical boiling tea started to whistle then, a high-pitched screech in your ear drums telling you to just go for it. 

Jayce was more of a coffee person, relishing in the wafting scent of the thick drink. He couldn’t go a day without it…and it seemed the same was true about his desire for you. 

You hadn’t noticed how your breath had become short as it met his chest, completely bare against your own. Jayce watched you look down, taking in the sight of him.

He gulped and discarded the mop beside him. His hands grasped yours—replacing the mop handle. Your cluster of hands remained between you, an invisible rope forcing you to stay together. 

Jayce continued with a croak, dipping his head to meet your eyes, “Hi.” 

“Hi,” you replied with a shy smile. 

His brow arched as he dipped down more, silently questioning if this was okay. When you met his slow movement in, he internally rejoiced. 

You’d kissed people before, but this was an entirely new sensation. The man in front of you was intentional. He moved slow and showed an attention that you didn’t know was missing. 

You’d gasp, overwhelmed by the gentle pressure of him. He’d make it his mission to capture that sound in his mouth, working over you to create the sound again. The rhythm in his ears of your low groans was one he could live off of—the only thing he needed for the rest of his existence. It was inexplicable the way he need to do this for you, to be good to you, to show you that you deserved only great things. 

You saw that in him—and it immediately made you want to repay him. It wasn’t often that you would first sink down to your knees in front of a man, ready and willing to have all of him…but this was different—confusing. 

You let out an exaggerated pop as you pulled away from Jayce’s mouth, licking over your own. His skin burned as you let a hand trail his chest, lingering as you found your way in front of his belt buckle. With a single hand you let him free of the confines of his pants. A second hadn’t passed before your hand latched onto him, smearing the wetness on the tip of him down his entire length. You watched him as you did, loving the choking sounds escaping his throat. 

“I-“ He gasped, writhing a bit, “I’ve never done this.” 

You arched your brow, confusion clearly covering the entirety of your face. “Never?” 

He shook his head in a tight declaration, hardly visible had you not been looking so closely. “Not after just meeting, I mean.”

“Do you want to?” 

You offered him an out, acknowledging how intense this must be. You’d just met him—and you knew how it felt. You understood the intricacies of always being connected in that way—feeling tethered to someone despite how little you seemed to know them. He had been that for you…before the wife and child. 

Jayce didn’t want an out. In fact his face almost mixed with something of bewilderment—that he’d ever deny you. He let that feeling spring him into action, pulling you back up to your feet. Despite that sudden motion, he seemed lost…as if he didn’t know what to do from here. 

“Where do you want me?” You spoke softly, hands nestled behind your back. He watched your eyelashes bat at him, the way they were intentionally spurring him on. 

You observed the way he remained in a shell—reacting to even the smallest of motions by you. His blinks were slow. His shoulders straightened, his posture stiffening. His breath even hitched at the way your chest rose slightly, a bit higher with your hands behind your back. 

Letting your voice lower and your head tilt, you looked him up and down slowly. “Where would you like me, Jayce?” You repeated it, keeping eye contact with him. Finally, you started to strip, removing all of your clothing. You backed up as you did so...legs eventually hitting the couch near the side of the room. 

He stayed stuck in place as he watched you. Jayce was entirely focused on your frame, how much more beautiful you looked than he could’ve imagine in his own mind. His knuckles paled, fists pressing in on themselves. You sat down into the couch cushions, then, not hesitating as you let your hands sink down to play with yourself. 

“Should I,” you hissed as you already felt yourself pulse around nothing. “Would you like to contribute or should I do this myself?” 

There wasn’t a sound in the room beyond the slick of you and the abrupt strides Jayce made across the room. The ran pattered to offset his movement. He was eager, immediately settling on the floor in front of you. 

The roles had reversed so fast. 

He pulled your hips slightly, earning a yelp from you, even more so when he immediately latched his lips onto your clit. It went on like that for a while until he flattened his tongue on you, moving up and down slowly. His nose pressed just beside your clit, a sensitive spot you didn’t know you had. 

It was his turn to look up at you and the way your head fell back. 

The air got stuck in your throat as you moved to grip his hair. The tug didn’t stop him, only motivated him more. The thought that his tongue alone could bring such aggressive reactions from you was the reward he needed. He clawed at your thighs, the softness there a grounding sensation so different from the sting as his scalp. 

He hummed into you, letting the vibration add to the feel of him on you. 

“F-fuck…” your voice dragged, stuttering over itself at that. You gulped as he did it again, a hand letting go of his head to wipe over your own—your palm hitting your face in surprise. 

He made a mental note at that, smiling briefly into you before pulling away. 

You looked around the room, mind spiraling at how he’d worked you up so well. Your sight settled on the clothes on the floor, his discarded tie in particular. You nudged Jayce, planting a soft kiss to his temple and moving him to lean back into the couch. He smiled to himself, at the fondness of such an action. 

He let himself be immersed in that feeling. You let the distraction work in your favor as the tie found its way around his wrists. You left some slack so he could be attached to the makeshift bars on your window. They sat just above your couch, a much needed addition to combat the weather and occasional rogue projectiles that seemed to make their way into fights. The Undercity was undeniably rough but it was home. The metal over your glass reminded you of that, how the path to something so amazing remained guarded at all times. 

The last bit of fabric rested in your hands as you moved to straddle Jayce, a strained hiss resounding from you at the sheer thickness of his thighs. You lifted yourself a bit before sliding over the back of him, not letting him into you just yet. You rutted over his tip, letting it swirl between your folds. He could only breathe into you as you raised his hands—relinquishing any control he had. 

You continued up and down him, pressing his wrists above his own head. He felt around, his fingers curling around the lowest horizontal bar. Jayce used it for stability but also as an outlet simultaneously. His grip was firm at the restriction. His arms were unable to move now that you’d tied a knot behind him—the realization only riled him up more. He was sensitive—he couldn’t take much more. 

You slid your hands on his shoulder, finally leveling yourself just above him. In a slow movement—eyes locked with him—you sunk onto him about an inch. Only letting in the head of his length was torture, an insatiable need only partially fulfilled. It was worth it, though. The lack of him was driving the man just as crazy, if not more so. Observing the pinch of his brows and the slack of his jaw, low whimpers now escaping him, was enough to make you hold out a bit longer. 

You smoothed a finger over the scar below his brow, an attempt to relieve the tension in him. “Be good,” you slid up and back down onto him. “Keep your hands there, okay?” 

His nods were fervent, his grasp holding tighter into the pole above him. 

Jayce’s words came out sort of erratic, an urgency you didn’t expect. “Please…just please,” he didn’t continue the thought—overwhelmed by you sliding down another inch onto him. “I just want to be in you…feel you.” 

That was enough for you. 

Inch by inch, you slowly sat into him. The mix of both your whines were almost drowned out by the rain; it was even louder now, the wind gusts swirling into a frenzy of sound. It didn’t compare, though. Not to the two of you completely wrapped in each other. 

You leaned down, letting your lips fall into the crook of his neck and his onto your chest. He sucked down with all he could, it being the only way he could touch you now. You leaned back at that, squeals escaping you as you writhed into him quicker now. Your chest reddened, the burst of heat traveling up your neck. He took advantage of your nipples in his face, alternating between both as he saw fit—only letting them go when he glanced up at you, how stunning you looked. 

There was a sheen of sweat on you now. You were feeling him everywhere, mostly just between your thighs where his girth filled you so much it burned. Despite this he was still long, hitting your guts with every motion into his lap. You were getting tired; the flapping of you onto his thighs became even more lewd, the space underneath you dripping in wetness from him and you. 

You could feel his stares on you but settled for keeping attention on his hands, the way they struggled to stay on the bar. You let your hands meet his, ignoring the tingle that sent through your own, and wrapped it around his own. Your hands were interlocked, keeping him on the metal. 

Your words slurred at him piercing into your groin over and over, that spongey spot feeling completely weak now. “C-close…are you?” 

“Almost,” his voiced bobbed. “Can’t go much longer—fuck.” 

The heat in you rose quickly at the weakened tone of his voice, the pure lack of control. Within a few more circles into him you were finishing, hand moving to your own clit to drag it out.

Jayce looked between you, the mess you made. He gasped at your hands soaked on yourself, applauding his own work—he was proud to serve you this way. You could use him, he didn’t care. Couldn’t care less, even. 

“Shit—“ a hiccup from Jayce, “Can’t—“ 

Reluctantly you slipped off of him, a whine filling the room. It didn’t last long, though. 

Suddenly your head was in his lap, bobbing up and down his length as you kept rubbing yourself. He heard your cries, muffled by the sound of your mouth wrapped around him. Your free hand pressed into his balls, urging him to let go. You hummed, too, letting the vibration touch his tip as it grazed the back of your throat. 

His hips snapped up into you, ropes shooting into your mouth and down your throat before you could even process. It didn’t afford you the time to taste him, really, but you’d assume it was sweet. Like him. 

Your legs shook beneath you as your hands slipped away. Letting yourself fall back, you surveyed your work—the consistent lingering pulse inside your walls and the way Jayce remained motionless. Your chest heaved, matching the way his rose and fell. 

Your eyes fell closed, allowing you to sit in the feeling of bliss within you now. On the floor, you started to drift—only cognizant of the warmth on you. 

The faint sparkle of the Sun began to shine onto your face and stirred you from sleep. Immediately grimacing, you looked over to the man beside you. He sat on the couch, not moving you from your spot but covering you snugly on the floor with a few of your blankets, a pillow under your head. 

Craning your neck back allowed you to see the puddle gone, too, his clothes hanging on your laundry line. 

“Hi.” He smiled, already awake and observing your every move. 

You didn’t reply but instead felt something brewing in you, disgust was the closest thing to come to mind. Disgust at how quickly you’d turned this around. The same day you found out—heart completely shattered by something you thought was real—you let yourself be with a man you hardly knew. It stood to reason then that this wasn’t and could never be real. Not when you so quickly fell into it. Not when you tainted any opportunity you had at building toward something healthy. 

You hated yourself, even more so that you could see a future with Jayce. The thought of him was so close, yet out of reach when you fully considered. You couldn’t do this, shouldn’t really. 

“You should go.”

Jayce moved to counter, to speak and question you. 

“Don’t come here anymore.” It sounded harsh. You didn’t mean for it to be. “Just…I’ll come to you, okay?” You nodded, assuring yourself that this was the right way to go—the way to be with him. “You can’t come back here, never again.” 

He moved slowly, clearly stunned by your abruptness. The motions with which he pulled his own clothes off of their hanging positions and onto his body was methodical. Jayce was a machine—working step by step and assembling pieces to get a final result. It was true, though, that he’d never be whole. He wouldn’t be himself again without you beside him and couldn’t explain why that was. 

He didn’t know you. 

He wanted to. 

He kneeled down as you sat up, slowly gliding his hand  into yours. He let his fingers rub over your skin; he fought to reassure you. 

The knot in your throat made you swallow and pull away.

There weren’t any words exchanged between you. You felt bad, but not enough to quell the sickening feeling in his stomach. Jayce looked at you with a clear hurt, like he’d been physically torn apart. 

He huffed at that and simply asked, “When can I see you again?” 

part one

[strawberriesoup]

umbrella٠࣪⭑

── .✦ A sudden storm causes your evening plans with Jisung to be canceled.

word count: 1.8k

genre: fluff/angst, jisung x female reader, established relationship, comfort

warnings: cursing, crying, reader has a hard time vocalizing her feelings, kisses, super fluffy, jisung is best boyfriend, hugs

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Normally, the slight pitter patter of rain tapping at your window wouldn’t bother you so much. The droplets racing down the glass were usually your cue to brew up some tea and clear your mind whilst watching the headlights of cars whoosh by on the street far below.

Right now your mind is anything but clear. You pull your hand away from the window, leaving a print of condensation behind as the chill in the air picks up, warning of the upcoming storm.

If nothing else, the weather instills in you a newfound hate for the weatherman and his deceitful games.

Why did everything have to go wrong? First your dinner plans with Jisung were canceled because of “renovations” and now this? The forecast predicts thunderstorms the rest of the day and through the night as well. The rain and your mood are getting worse by the minute.

You miss him. You just want to see him. Is that really too much to ask? But the universe— like always—has different plans.

It was about two months now since you had met Jisung. You had been thirsting over his best friend, Minho, and Jisung had stepped in as your wingman. Needless to say, you weren’t so interested in Minho anymore after getting to know Jisung.

Technically, you met him at a party — said party you had only attended to stalk Minho— so your first impressions of Jisung were understandably questionable. Come to find out later that his friend group forced him there and he’s actually just a cheesecake-loving homebody who’s afraid of pigeons (“Those damn birds know too much”) and likes the show Nana a little more than he probably should.

He’s cute as hell though.

Your couch squeaks as you throw yourself down on it. That stupid squeaking. It incites more violence in you than it probably should, and you take that as a sign to take a deep breath and try to think positively.

Unfortunately you just end up thinking of Jisung and how, if he were here, he would be able to cheer you up with one of his stupid jokes and that goddamn pretty smile. Ugh.

Should you call him? Would asking him to come over be too much? It was raining exponentially hard and he probably wouldn’t want to bother. There’s always another day. But still. Your mind is hyper-fixated on the thought of him, his presence, his laughter, the way his eyes seem to sparkle when he rants about his latest obsession…

Fuck this. You’ll just go over to his place.

By now, the downpour is in full swing and practically roaring against the side of the building, the sound blocking out even the rush of traffic building on the road below. You feel a chill run through your limbs at the thought of trekking through that mess with only your umbrella as a shield.

Through the clamor of the rain outside, you swear you hear a soft knocking. Are you imagining things? You must be. It was probably just thunder.

After a beat, you hear the knocking again. Louder this time.

Yeah, that was definitely your door. You jump up from the couch, heart leaping hopefully into your throat as you rush to unlock the door. It can’t be.

It was.

There stands Jisung, sporting a soaked umbrella, tousled hair, flushed cheeks, and a grin.

You must stare at him with an open mouth for longer than you thought because his brows furrow and he bursts out into a laugh.

“No ‘Hi Jisung’? No ‘Oh, how I missed you, I’m so glad you’re here Jisung’?”

He wraps his arms around you, his soaked umbrella thumping against your back. You return the hug tightly, coming back to your senses. He’s here! Wait, he’s actually here? The dots don’t seem to connect in your mind, but the arms around you, slowly rocking you back and forth in a warm embrace finally convince your stubborn mind that this is real.

“You came? But—“

“Yeah, duh! The rain’s pretty crazy isn’t it? Still sucks we couldn’t go to dinner, but look I brought snacks!”

He pulls away from you to shake the plastic convenience store bag in front of your face and sets it on the counter, the contents spilling out over the surface. All your favorite snacks. You feel tears prick at your eyes.

No. You are not going to cry right now. You clench your fists by your sides, trying to will the tears back into your skull. Unaware of your internal conflict, Jisung hums absentmindedly to himself while he shrugs off his drenched jacket and stows away his umbrella on the rack by the door.

“So what are we thinking?” Jisung’s voice cuts through your thoughts, “Youtube? Card game?” He turns his attention towards you. The second he sees you, his eyes widen in confusion. Are you okay? What happened?

Before he has a chance to ask anything, the dam cracks and you break down into tears.

He’s right there by your side, following you down to the floor and kneeling in front of you. He takes your hand between both of his own.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Can you tell me?” He speaks in such a soft tone, but the worry in his voice leaks through. It just makes you sob harder. You bury your face in your knees. Stop crying. Stop it right now, this is ridiculous.

He squeezes your hand before flattening your clenched fist and kissing your palm. He lingers there for a moment, a warm and steady presence, while you collect yourself.

Eventually, you bring yourself to meet his eyes. His eyes flitter between your own, laced with obvious concern. Which makes sense because who in their right mind just breaks down sobbing with zero explanation as soon as their boyfriend walks in the door.

“I.. It’s just— I can’t believe you actually came here. To.. to see me. It’s— I don’t know, it’s really not a big deal I’m so sorry—” You stammer pathetically between gasps, wiping your tears on your shirt sleeve. Damn it. Why can’t you just pull your self together?

“Shhh. It’s okay, just take your time. I’m listening.” He soothes, pressing his mouth against your knuckles. You can feel his teeth through the soft skin of his lip as his breath ghosts across your skin.

“I just missed you.” You finish plainly.

It’s true, you did miss him. But you can’t quite bring yourself to say the whole truth. You want to tell him how much him showing up means to you. You want to thank him for actually caring about you and wanting to be around you, even if that means he has to go out of his way to achieve that. Nobody had ever treated you this way before. They wanted you when you were convenient. When you were easy.

Jisung just isn’t like that. How could you think otherwise?

Jisung huffs out a fond laugh at your answer and breaks into a half smile. By the knowing look in his eye, you can tell he understands you without words.

“Yeah, well, I missed you too. Come here.” He folds you into his chest, one hand behind your head and the other tracing circles across your back. You could stay here like this with him forever. Except that you might be getting snot on his shirt right now.

“Hold on, I really need a tissue,”you admit, pulling away from him and giggling. You excuse yourself to the bathroom while Jisung gasps and dramatically “ewwwuhh”s after you.

You avoid making eye contact with your reflection in the mirror as you blow your nose. Eventually, you glance up to take in your appearance. God. You look a mess. Your puffy red eyes squinting back at you agree. You rinse your face with some cold water just for good measure.

After you had taken care of business, you emerge from the bathroom to find Jisung sprawled out on your couch, limbs dangling about haphazardly. When he spots you, he pouts and makes grabby hands.

Mock rolling your eyes, you go over and lay on top of him, your couch complaining at the added weight. Straddling your legs, you place both of your arms around his head, cradling it. The feeling of his body underneath yours, the steadiness of his heartbeat, the curve of his waist, It just feels right. Like it should always be this way.

“You want to kiss me sooo bad, huh?” Jisung teases. He cocks an eyebrow at you and makes a kissy face. You cant help but laugh while you grab his face between your palms.

“And so what if I do? Huh?” The grin is evident in your voice as you dip down to give him a peck on the lips. It proves to be a little difficult to give a proper kiss to someone who is giggling through their nose and fighting back a smile. You kiss him once, twice, three times.

“You know,” you comment, “this would be easier if you just stayed still—“ Jisung abruptly surges upwards into a sitting position, nearly bonking his head against yours in the process. You find yourself straddling his lap while his hands shift to support your thighs.

Eyes brimming with admiration, he simply stares at you for a moment. Taking in everything that makes you, you. You’re perfect. And he wants nothing more than for you to just be able to see what he sees.

He leans in, slowly closing the gap between you two. You feel your heart skip as you lean to meet him, your eyes fluttering shut.

A bright flash blinds you and before you could even draw in a gasp, a deafening crack of thunder consumes your senses.

You can feel Jisung jump beneath you, his hands tightening around your thighs. Both of you pull away from each other in shock. He stares at you with wide eyes and his mouth hanging open, looking so genuinely frazzled that you break into a fit of laughter and wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face in his shoulder. He laughs breathlessly in shock for a few moments, hand coming up to his heart to ground himself.

“You good?” You lean back and brush his back the hair that had fallen in his face, peering into his eyes.

“Mhm!” Jisung nods with a tight-mouthed smile, his voice an octave higher than normal.

“Awhhh my poor babyy,” You coo, returning to your previous position and rocking him back and forth.

Eventually, you two settle into a comfortable position on the couch. You had tucked yourself into Jisung’s side, resting your head on his chest. He had recovered from his little heart attack and is now rambling on about the lore of Hollow Knight, with the steady beat of the ever-pounding storm at your walls as accompaniment. You sigh in contentment, bathing in the sound of his voice.

“Hey, Jisung?” You ask, after a moment of silence.

“Hm?”

“Stay with me?”

“Always.”

[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.

[newkatzkafe2023]

Have ya ever play Cookie Run Kingdom????

If so...

Can ya please make a post about The Monkey Kings meeting a Y/N who's like Shadow Milk Cookie???? Little blue blob of a jester is so chaotic I love him

I will always remember cookie run kingdom they were all so cute😉

(Lmk Wukong) Wow you are just so tricky and can be obnoxious, as well as cruel however something tells him that's a front. Wukong eventually gets you to open up to him in your courting period and he learns about imprisonment and how it broke you that dispite your vast knowledge people still lied to themselves. Wukong hated how you were taken for granted and decided to ask you for another story making you fly into performer mode, acting eccentric and imaginative. Not to mention your constant story telling reminds him of macaque but somehow way more sinister.

(NR Wukong) Oh Wukong adores you more then anything in the world, you were always Quirky and imaginative so it's fun spending time with you. Your loud, silly, and full of chaos your his dream gal getting into all sorts of trouble and mayhem together. Dispite You both would share depressive days together because of you remembering your imprisonment in the silver tree and Wukong's disappointment in the world around him. So you cheer him and yourself up with some fun story telling about your handsome husband and his beautiful wife you.

(HIB Wukong) Oh jeez, Wukong thinks you're a whole ass clown literally, with your tricks and dramatic ass storytelling. It gets worse when you involve Luier and Silly Girl, often inviting the two to cause a bit of mischief with you. You can be a bit of a nuisance to Wukong but he learned about your backstory once, and well help you find some kind of peace and help you stay calm. He really loves you and your stories just has a hard time showing it. You can be a bit childish and cartoonish you can get serious and scary at the drop of your hat, your the only one who can trick and deceive your hubby but if anyone else dare to do that, well may God have mercy on there souls.

(MKR Wukong) You would drive him insain with your tricks and riddles, it pisses him off sometimes. Not to mention if Wukong were to make you angry well that's doomsday for him, you both would fight constantly but with this you both began to open up to each other. Sharing all the bad things that happened to you both especially the fact that you were both trapped by people stronger then you. Granted you both still taunt each other but over time you both grow closer and you get kinda kinder to him. Wukong deep down loves you even with your dramatic and eccentricity and besides what's wrong with a bit of chaos.

(Netflix Wukong) He always loves hearing your stories like a small child listening to your narration. Your both causing chaos and be a force to be reckon with especially on the battlefield, as we taunt and mess with your enemies and love to manipulate anyone who mess with you and your husband. You are smart enough to keep your cruelty hidden from Wukong especially when it's triggered by your wrath. You love to lovingly annoy Wukong with Riddles and Tricks but nothing horrible, just inconvenient. Your Wukong's partner in crime no matter what.

(BMW Wukong) Wow, he understands you better than anybody, especially with the whole being trapped it's a touchy subject, and you would get angry because of it. However, your husband is endlessly patient with you and loves to join you and causing chaos, not to mention your both story tellers. In fact you would always add flare and pizzazz to all his stories making your husband sound greater then ever, your husband loves your intelligence and imagination and he wouldn't change you for anything.

(Destined one) Yeah...the Destined one is the last demon to ever fall for your Deceit and Riddles. The Destined one very much loves your intelligence and all knowing knowledge but it's the fact that you, constantly Lie to him and try to deceive him. The Destined one is the only one who can come you down when you suddenly fly into a fit of rage, but the Destined one makes for a good listening ears for you and your stories. He also sympathies with you and tells you how his older brother Wukong was trapped under a mountain, and he becomes supporting system for you.

(Lotmk Wukong) Oh boi he honestly feels bad for you especially learning how you were trapped in a tree for a whole millennia. You can pretend to not be bothered by the whole thing but he's also someone who you can't easily lie too you know, Wukong would actively sit and listen to you tell your side of the stories. Dispite that he's sometimes easy for you to manipulate and you drag him to participate on in your storytelling, and eccentric behavior that would make Wukong's head spin at times but at least it's never a dull moment.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG🍪

[intuitively-her]

Weekly predictions🔮

💗You are leaving behind the things that once kept you stuck

💗There’s some drama going on within your family

💗You need to be more self-indulgent. Stop over giving to people, especially family

💗Beware of scams!🚫 I see someone wanting to collaborate with you, but this is only for their personal benefit. This is a deceitful male energy

💗Your former boss wishes that you would come back. Things flowed better when you were there

💗You are stepping into a new era. Expect more abundance and recognition within the next few days⭐️

💗Someone from your past wants new beginning with you. Don’t let them back in

💗Receiving more romantic offers. You’ve been looking good lately😍

💗Your hard work is paying off💰

💗Moving on from grief/ a loss💔

💗Gaining your spark back✨

💗Expect to hear some good news about work! This could be a promotion or call back from a job. They see your potential🙂

💗Trust your gut this week! You ain’t tripping

💗Feeling burdened with responsibilities/ like you can’t catch a break

💗Focusing on your happiness and pouring back into yourself🌞

💗Feeling sad about something💔

💗Being forced to make a decision about something

💗Birthing new ideas or someone could literally be giving birth soon. Congratulations!🤰🏽

💗You’re growing!⚡️

💗Taking some time to be alone and heal. This was much needed for you

💗Releasing blockages/ working through your fears/ breaking away from old mindsets

*Only take what resonates!*

Please DO NOT copy, repost, or steal my work. Thanks!💖