#obviously I want him to be ok I’ll be here for him tonight and for the next month I care so fucking much

[gutsby]

Stiff

Pairing: Old!Joel x Reader

Summary: At fifty-nine, Joel isn’t sure his dick can keep up with every day it’s going to take to get you pregnant. He seeks help from Jackson’s local apothecary and gets more than bargained for when that little blue pill kicks in.

Or, your old man wants to knock you up. Viagra helps.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v (obviously 😵‍💫🤙🏼). Breeding kink. Age gap. Peepaw Joel. Blue Pill Joel. Post-apocalyptic-Viagra-dosage-gone-horribly-wrong-and-now-his-dick-won’t-deflate-for-a-day…but it’s OK!

Note: This is the crackfic counterpart/sequel to ‘Make It Stick’

Word count: 2.9k

Forty-five minutes.

Forty-five minutes until his fate was sealed for the night. His pulse would quicken. His head would start to swim, and any last sliver of rational thought would be lost to the ether or the cold, snowy air around him. Joel Miller had to hurry now, because that bite-sized blue pill he’d just taken was in his belly, and if his dick didn’t find its way in you, he was fucked. Or at least huge and swollen and leaking out beads of hot desire the size of golf balls.

Well, maybe that was just his cock.

Joel looked down, scanning his pants.

Yeah…definitely just cock. He walked faster.

At home, he knew he’d find you curled up on the couch, nose in a book. What to Expect When You’re Expecting, if he had to guess. Then, sure enough, you’d lift your eyes and smile—‘Thank goodness you’re back, daddy’—and lift the hem of your night dress just slightly. Spread your legs and beckon him in. It was a nightly routine by now.

You wanted to be knocked up as fast as possible, after all

At almost sixty years old, Joel couldn’t believe he was actually saying these words aloud. But here he was—crawling overtop you on the couch, situating himself between your legs, and pulling his cock out, mumbling:

“Gonna let me put a baby in you tonight?”

You nodded sweetly—eagerly—every time.

Joel knew he could never resist that look. He was as good as finished the first second you let him sink inside your tight, weeping hole, and when he stretched it, he could already tell this was all he would ever want to do. Make you happy, fill you up, give you lots and lots of him.

It was why he’d stopped by the apothecary tonight. Why he’d hesitated only a moment before clearing his throat and asking for a pill like Viagra—Joel knew that the man behind the counter would flash him a wry, knowing grin.

Trouble keepin’ up with that sweet young thing’a yours?

David was a dick.

He wasn’t entirely wrong, either.

Ever since agreeing to start trying for a baby, Joel had become acutely aware of his own physical limitations in that department, and one of them was stamina. He could scarcely fuck twice in the same night without needing a long and rest-intensive breather. You were young and could roll over ready to go in five minutes.

It wasn’t fair to deprive you now on account of his age.

If you wanted his cum, you were getting it, no question.

Not just once, but multiple times. Again and again and—

“Again,” Joel grunted once he’d shot off his last spurt.

Fifty-eight minutes had passed since he’d taken that pill. It had fully kicked in, and his dick was still hard, even after finishing inside you with a sticky, white-hot flood.

You blinked dreamily up at him.

“You mean it, old man?” you teased him lightly.

I’ll show you what I mean, Joel thought to himself before flipping you over on the sofa. He had your hips tilted up and his cock driving back inside your freshly-fucked cunt in no time at all. He felt his spend coating your walls; it let him glide right in. Joel groaned and jerked himself back out, then fucked back in again and again and again.

“Again?”

Your word was exhaled in a laugh.

You stood in front of the bathroom sink, trying to tidy up the insides of your legs and push some more of Joel’s load back in, when you felt a presence at your back.

Stabbing your ass.

You started to turn then, puzzled.

“Bend over,” Joel commanded before you could.

You did as you were told because, frankly, you loved getting fucked wherever your old man wanted it—even if he had broken the sink one time he’d pounded you here.

But there was palpable confusion, too. How in the hell had Joel Miller, certified silver fox and owner of a dick old enough to remember Woodstock and the moon landing, managed to get his dick hard in the five minutes since he’d had you face-down, ass-up on the couch?

Or had his dick gotten soft at all?

You wanted to question him about it, or else give a long, hard look at his uncharacteristically long, hard friend, when the next moment had you gripping the counter. Stretching between the legs as Joel pushed back in.

“There she is,” he murmured affectionately.

Really, you’d never been wetter. Or warmer. Or filled to the brim with more sticky-white spend than you could ever hope to hold inside, it felt like. You bent at the waist and let him have his fill. You closed your eyes and rested your head on your forearms while Joel’s hot, bulbous tip grazed your cervix with dizzying alacrity. A smile crept in.

Whatever this was, you wanted more of it.

His dick was still hard.

Four mind-numbing fucks and another forty-five minutes later, Joel’s cock hadn’t deflated the tiniest bit.

The thing had hammered you so thoroughly he’d nearly destroyed the sink again. You’d whimpered, and whined, and warned him quietly, ‘We just fixed the porcelain, baby,’ and right before he’d painted your walls with his seed, you’d cum for him practically shrieking. Shaking.

Letting him turn you around for a kiss, only to mumble against his mouth with a sleepy, cockdrunk sort of lilt:

“I think you gave me twins.”

Then he’d fucked you in the shower to make it triplets.

Now you were laying out on the bed, truly spent, eyes following him in the semi-darkness of your bedroom after you’d toweled off and collapsed among the pillows.

“What’s gotten into you tonight, Miller?” you breathed.

Joel made it over to the dresser, back turned to you. He rifled through a drawer looking for something extra tight.

“Just missed you is all,” he said, shrugging.

What he needed right now was fabric that was very thick to hide the boner he was sporting. Joel could tell from the way you spoke that you were too tired for round five, and he didn’t want you feeling like you had to go again.

He would be fine.

His dick might not deflate until dawn, but that was okay.

“Wish you missed me like this every day,” you giggled.

When Joel turned around, he was shocked to find you sprawled out on the bed—hands between your legs.

There was a shy smile on your face.

“Baby…” he trailed off, watching your fingers flit through that sticky mess where he’d left it. Where you glistened.

Where you slid your index and middle fingers up and down your slit and drew circles on your clit, eyes shining.

“What? I missed you too,” you said, tone all faux protest.

You had no idea what you did to him when you talked like that. Especially when he was drowning in a state like this.

Hard as a rock.

Throbbing.

Needy.

Scarcely even knowing what he was doing, Joel found himself over by the foot of the bed in a second. Watching your every move with a wild, wipe-open stare he still couldn’t believe you found appealing. He swallowed.

He not only looked perverted, but he felt it, too. It rarely ever left his mind, save for the four or five seconds he spent in ecstasy emptying the contents of his balls inside your cunt, that he was his age, and you were yours. That perhaps the rest of Jackson was right, and he was wrong: he had no business being around a girl like you, much less getting off inside you every night. Was this really what you wanted? A bewildering mixture of guilt, lust, and love all circulated through his skull at that moment, and the longer he spent looking at your fingers, ogling the way you teased them through his cum between your legs, the more he felt certain he was bad.

No one corrupted a thing this sweet and got to call themselves good, anyway, he thought to himself idly.

“I keep gettin’ that…feelin’,” you said under your breath.

Joel’s hand tightened in a fist, and it was then that he realized it was wrapped around his cock. Still watching.

“Yeah, baby? What feelin’?” he returned, almost as quiet.

Still stroking himself up and down, up and down, softly.

You had your legs spread open—knees splayed wider than they’d been before. And your eyes had a tender, placid sheen to them, like they just might cry if they didn’t get release of some kind soon. Then you slowed.

Your touch slipped from your clit to the opaque, sticky globs between your thighs, and that look got even softer.

More desperate.

“Can’t…explain it.” You shook your head, as if pained, and then you sank two fingers inside. Joel could hear the tiny schlick from where he stood, and it almost did him in.

You sucked in a breath and added, “It’s a special feelin’.”

Joel’s fist had already worked its way up to a ridiculous speed. Again, he sensed this might be the worst and most pathetic he’d ever looked, but by the glint in your eyes and the way you kept holding him there, he also knew you weren’t asking him to stop, either. You were needing something else—something he could provide.

Thanks to that one stupid pill.

Joel’s smile was strained as he gripped the edge of the bed, like he was trying to assuage you and him at once.

“Try me, baby. Tell me ‘bout that special feelin’.”

Your middle and ring fingers disappeared inside you.

You whined, “Ain’t fair to say it now. You’re tired, daddy.”

Like hell he was. Joel crawled over the footboard and made his way straight to you, where your body was limp.

His breaths were coming in so fast and his pulse was thrumming so hard that he almost couldn’t hear himself talking. But he ventured to speak as gently as he could.

“I’m wide awake, sweet pea. I’m all ears. Talk to me.”

And if his words didn’t communicate as much, surely the look in his eyes would’ve told you all the rest. Quietly, he slipped his torso between your legs, where you’d inserted a third finger and were moving your hips again. You were fingering yourself, breathing shallow and quick.

“It’s a feelin’ like I wanna be…stuffed…a-and full’a you.”

Joel’s whole body could’ve liquified on the spot. His brain, presently, had all the consistency of a plate of scrambled eggs if he’d had to guess. Feeling his cock swell even bigger and his hips sink lower to yours of their own accord, he had only to grit his teeth and nod his head. He felt the tip of him bump your fingers, and the sensation and the expectation nearly drove him insane.

He mumbled quietly, “Then move your hand.”

You did. You winced again. You looked as though you might be ashamed for wanting him to fill you with his spend, and Joel simply wouldn’t allow that any longer.

Without saying another word, he slid back in.

Your cum and his facilitated the slide, and you opened right up for him. You whimpered, while Joel grunted like an animal. He couldn’t help it; it all felt so fucking primal.

How you could ever feel the need to apologize for wanting more of this was more than he could take.

“Every inch of me,” Joel said, rutting deeper, “is yours.”

He withdrew to the tip, and he could feel strings of arousal linking him to you in a sickeningly sweet way.

You could scarcely even nod, just waiting for him again.

When Joel plunged back in, he heard a feral little cry, and he felt your legs wrap around his waist. He went faster. You fisted the pillow behind your head in one hand, while the other laid flat on his chest, like you were checking for a heartbeat. You could probably hear it thudding a million miles per minute right now. Your hips collided in tandem.

“D— Daddy,” you whimpered.

“That’s it, open up for daddy. Good girl. It’s all yours.”

The sounds his thrusts were making were obscene.

“Every inch?” you breathed, “E-Every drop, too?”

“Every fiber of my fucking being, sweet girl.”

That made you smile, at length. Your hand slid from his chest, down his round belly, straight to a groin that was pounding hard and fast against your own. Joel groaned when he felt your touch sweep inside your legs—right in the space where his cum had come trickling out. You slid your fingers through that mess, then whimpered again.

Then you brought your hand up to your mouth.

You wrapped your lips around your cum-soaked fingers like they were the single sweetest thing, and you sucked.

Joel had no say after seeing that: he had to cum again.

It likely stunned you both—you more than him, by the look that crossed your eyes the second you felt him throb and pulse inside your cunt—but then it kept going.

Rather than stop, or slow down in the slightest, Joel found his hips pistoning faster than they had before. The whole bed frame shook, and your body trembled with every thrust, and the noises between your legs grew even louder; the sound of skin slapping skin was only amplified by the addition of Joel’s hot load in the mix.

The man was operating on impulse. You, through sheer awe and an animalistic need to have every crevice filled. You held him and you grit your teeth, and you let him keep using your body, while you used his. You kissed him.

“Go on, then—make me a daddy. Take my cum, baby,” Joel babbled, brainless, “Make your old man a daddy.”

He couldn’t tell if it were the words or the rhythm or the pleasure that had already been blossoming deep in your gut this whole time, but he felt you fall apart. You wrapped your legs tighter around his waist than you had all night, and you screamed his name. Begged for more.

“Cum in me, daddy—pleasepleaseplease just cum, ju—”

And there he went. Again. Flooding your insides with his warmth and letting his cock carve a wild, relentless path through your cunt like it was all the man knew how to do. He filled you up. He felt it leaking down his length with every stab of his hips, and frankly, he didn’t care what he looked like now. You were smiling big, drawing him in for more kisses as he panted and grunted and whimpered like he never had before. He kissed back. Slowed down.

Found himself lost in your mouth as your tongue wove delectably through his own and your hands made their way to his wild, greying hair. You tugged, and he moaned.

He fucked his spend deeper without even meaning to.

All instinct again, it seemed he couldn’t get enough.

Suddenly, he felt a new, strange urge bubble up.

“I-I-I took a pill tonight,” he blurted out, “Know how badly you want this baby, and I wanna give you one.”

Or two. Or twenty. He was barely capable of speech, let alone rational cognition, so he just spoke whatever came to his mind then, still snug inside your legs and panting.

“A pill?” you whispered back.

Joel’s gaze locked with yours.

He felt stupid for it all at once.

“Yeah. Yeah, I just— I know I’m gettin’ on in years, and I probably can’t fuck the way I used to. And you deserve someone who can…Maybe a guy your age, but that—”

“—is the single dumbest thing you have ever said to me,” you finished for him, eyes narrowing swiftly in a scowl.

When Joel tried talking again, you cut him off.

“I don’t care what any guy my age is doing, or could do. I want babies with you, and that includes every part, OK?”

Your look softened momentarily, seeing his lips twitch down—you could probably see he wasn’t believing you.

Then you cradled his face in your palms. You smiled. You brushed his nose with yours, and you kissed him again, and with what little strength you likely had left in your body, you dug your heels in his ass and pulled him deeper. Both of you let out soft, low grunts at the effort.

“If you fucked like this at twenty-five, my body wouldn’t have survived anyway,” you whispered in reassurance. Biting back a laugh as Joel smiled, too, “I like things just the way they are. Just like how I hope you like me, too.”

“No—I love you.” Joel shook his head, almost plaintive.

And for the first time that night, he felt himself soften.

Whether it was the pill wearing off or that first thread of vulnerability stretching out between your body and his, he didn’t really care. He kissed the tip of your nose and was about to say something more, when you cut back in.

“I love you more. And since we’re being honest tonight,” you started quietly, nipping at your bottom lip a second, “I might…need you back at the apothecary tomorrow.”

Joel’s face fell.

“Wh— is something wrong, baby?” His voice was tight.

He hated seeing David, but, of course, he’d go back there in a heartbeat if it meant getting you the medication you needed. His stomach was starting to churn, when you reached up to hold his face again. You shook your head.

“No, no, Joel, I’m fine. But I may need prenatal vitamins.”

Now his eyes were going wide. His cheeks heated under your palms, and his cock twitched inside you, reflexively.

“You mean…” he murmured, unable to finish. Swallowing.

Beneath him, he saw you smile and nod.

He nearly choked hearing what followed:

“I meant to tell you earlier, but…my period’s a little late.”

[stardust-thief]

look after you

an: this my first x reader fic LMAOO, i needed to write smth and this spencer was on my brain :// i am in the middle of a rly long donna fic but i cba this was much easier. also i absolutley have not proof read this sorry

synopsis: you get hurt while hunting down an unsub, after some reluctance (and kind words from papa rossi) you let spencer take care of you, 1.7k words

cw: descriptions of violence, panic attack, spencer swears and can drive (the most un-canon thing abt him) umm italians..., the rest is just fluffy, hurt/comfort, x reader but no y/n

masterlist

The unsub had his gun pointed at you, the cold press of the barrel against flesh. He was ranting and raving about needing to be seen and understood, having spent his childhood in emotional neglect. Teachers and parents failed him at every turn, it’s not his fault that this happened but he can fix it if he just drops the gun. Rossi tried to tell him this over and over, but he only got more angry, pushing the gun in harder and harder. 

If you were to open your eyes, you would’ve seen JJ and Luke there too, guns trained on the unsub. Their eyes glancing between you, the unsub, and the gun. But you didn’t. Not until the bang went off and you could breathe again. 

The flashing lights of the ambulance do nothing to dissuade the pressing headache you feel coming on, the movement of people helps even less. You watch as the EMT’s cart the unsub away on a gurney, sheet covering him. 

“You okay, kid?” Rossi asks from beside you, he had been hovering ever since the ambulance arrived. 

“I’m fine, just need a good night's rest. I’ll be good as new.” You hummed half-heartedly. 

David Rossi always knew when someone was lying to him, part of that talent comes from his job as a profiler, but it’s mostly because of some ancient Italian magic. “I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that to me. Look, Hotch is on his way with Reid and Emily. They’re gonna be taking some witness statements, but I imagine Boy Wonder will be a little distracted. I want you to let him take care of you, ok? You’ve been through hell tonight kid, let him worry.”

Italians never lie, although you wish they did. Spencer had very obviously caught feelings for you, everyone on the team could see it. Unfortunately, so could you. Spencer Reid was one of the kindest, most genuine people you had ever met, always putting other people's needs before his own. A voice in your head kept telling you that there is nothing you have done to deserve someone like him doting all over you? You had only brought trouble to the people who loved you. Eventually you learned that it was better to just keep everyone at a distance; if you don’t let them in, they can’t get hurt. Which worked well, up until Spencer.

He had such a wormy way of getting into your brain at the worst times; whether it was when you were alone in your kitchen, or at slightly dangerous, very inappropriate times on a case. You couldn’t stop thinking about him and his stupidly cute (and sometimes ill-timed) facts. Some part of you wanted to let him in, in the end the stubborn side always took over. 

Before long, you heard the worried cries of Spencer trying to find you in the chaos. Rossi called his name and gave you a pat on the shoulder, “Remember, you deserve to be looked after too.” and left to find Hotch.

“Oh my god, are you okay? We tried to get here as soon as we could, but they managed to take down the unsub right? What happened, did he hurt you? How did you get so close? Talk to me are-” Oh, how he rambles. 

“Spencer, I’m fine. I just need to… rest, you know. He didn’t hurt me that bad, just a sprained wrist, couple bruises. Could’ve been worse.”

He spluttered, “Could’ve- you know, that doesn’t make this any better, I was so worried about you. He had a fucking gun to your head, I was going insane thinking about what could’ve happened. What did the EMT say about your wrist?”

“Just to rest it, and use an ice pack if it starts to swell or hurt.” You couldn’t look him in the eye, he was so worried about you. It made butterflies dance in your belly, but there was a twinge of guilt there too. He was so busy, he worked so hard and then went home to look after his mom. He had too much on his plate, how could you add more to it? “Spence, I’m really sorry about worrying you. I should be fine to leave now, so I’ll just head home and sleep it off. Have a good night.” You pushed yourself off the ambulance, eyes focused downwards, restless fingers fidgeting with the already frayed bandage.

“No- wait what are you talking about? You’re gonna drive yourself home in this condition? I can’t let you do that, even thinking about it makes me feel sick.” He lowered his head to yours and spoke softer this time, “Please let me take you home. I don’t have to stay, I just want to make sure you’re ok, ok?”

Fuck that voice did things to you. Leaning from side to side, you thought about what Rossi had said earlier. Maybe, it was ok to let someone in? It would be cruel to let him suffer more, not knowing if you were ok or somehow got in a car crash with 5 other vehicles on your way home. Just this once, you think.

Looking up into his soft eyes, you give a small nod. His lips immediately turned up into a smile, his hand comes up to cup your head, fingers stroking your cheek. It felt… nice. His thumb was calloused but he still moisturised enough for it to feel smooth, and he smelled like lemongrass and ginger. His hand fell to the small of your back as he guided you to his car. Ever the gentlemen, he opened your door and softly placed his hand over your head as you got in. Manoeuvring himself into the driver's side, he pulled out his phone and typed something, then quickly stuffed it away into a pocket and turned on the engine.

The sky was dark when you woke up. The unsub had a gun to your head at dusk, and Spencer was walking into your apartment when the moon was out. He took off his shoes and the door, and walked into your living room.

“I’ve never been here before,” he mused. “I like it.”

He looked at ease wandering around your apartment, his shoulders had relaxed and he let out soft musings as he perused your photo collections.

“Oh Spencer, not that one, it’s embarrassing!” You tried (with not a lot of effort) to pull him away from the frame.

“No this is cute, was this when you were at University?” He asked, wrapping an arm around you.

Oh my god. “Yeah, um- those were some of my friends at the time. I try and keep in touch but, you know.”

He hummed, pulling you closer into him. Finally content, he looked down at you. “How’s your wrist?”

“It’s ok,” you shrugged, “just a little tender now.”

“Where’s your kitchen, I can get some ice.”

“Spence-” you wanted to tell him no, to go home and look after himself. But his body was so warm, having him so close to you melted your brain, leaving you unable to think of any good reason as to why he should leave. “It’s the first door on the right.”

His grip tightened for a moment before he swiftly navigated you to the sofa, and turned to leave for the kitchen. The cold of the apartment rushed to get you as soon as he unraveled his arms. You hadn’t been alone all day since the unsubs attack, it somehow felt more claustrophobic. His hand on your throat, squeezing the air from your lungs. The way he grabbed your arm, contorting it so he could throw you to the ground. The gun, pressed into your forehead. The knowledge that the only thing between you being alive, and you being in a ditch, was a madman's finger on the trigger. Reality faded as each memory pressed further and further into your mind. You weren’t in your apartment anymore, you could feel the cold concrete beneath your hands. The thick air in your lungs, Rossi and the unsub shouting.

A hand on your knee, a soft voice bringing you back. There was no unsub, no gun to your head. You were alive. You were alive and Spencer was in your apartment, wiping the tears that had fallen down your face.

“You with me?” His voice was so soft, you couldn’t recall ever hearing Spencer raise his voice in anger. He was so gentle when he touched you. 

The floodgates burst, choked sobs made their way past your lips. Your shoulder shook as you cried, pressing yourself into Spencer’s arms. “Oh honey,” He murmured, pressing his lips into your head, softly rocking you back and forth as you sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. It was too much. You could have died today. Very nearly did. You weren’t ready to die, not yet at least.

As your cries softened into hiccups, you pushed yourself back from Spencer. “I’m sorry, that was so disgusting. It just all- I don’t know.”

 “Hey, you don’t ever have to apologise to me ok? What you went through was really scary, I’d honestly be more shocked if you didn’t cry.” His hand moved to draw soothing shapes along your back as you leaned back into him. “You want to watch something to calm down? I brought you some water and an ice pack for your wrist.”

He would be the death of you. You nod and push yourself back into the sofa, moving your wrist to rest in your lap. Spencer gently places the ice pack across your wrist and grips the tips of your fingers. He leans forward to push your cup of water towards you and grabs the TV remote, then turns and leans back so your side is pressed into his front. Truthfully, Spencer didn’t seem like the type to watch cable TV but he navigated the menu with somewhat ease. 

“Look at what’s on! It’s your favourite isn’t it, you want me to put it on.” He said as he nudged your shoulder.

He remembered your favourite film, of course he would remember it he has an eidetic memory. You hummed a yes as you relaxed your body further into his, finally content. Maybe Rossi was right, having Spencer close really wasn’t so bad after all.

[itsmarsss]

Vulgar Display of Power [Miguel Diaz x fem!Reader] (Cobra Kai)

You can never fucking beat him in a fight and it's getting frustrating.

Request: omg more miguel please!!! smutty if u can xx already dating if you want? Fic title comes from my (second) favorite Pantera album. Word count: 4,350 Warnings: SMUT. established relationship, theres plot but it only serves to justify the sex lol, i use present tense in this, degrading, first time sub!miguel kind of, handjob, fingering, oral sex, penetration (p in v), semi-public sex (i guess? no one's around but the location isn't exactly private), a lot of use of pet names (baby, babe, love, mi amor), so much swearing. obviously no one is a minor here I don't mention much context but can be read as hs senior year or later, doesn't really matter. if you're a minor kindly keep away from my blog and this fic please

“Fuck!”  You yell out as Sensei Lawrence announces Miguel’s win. In turn of your frustration, Miguel sports a grin that playfully mocked you.

Now don’t get it twisted, you’re not a bad fighter. You’re not even a good one- you’re great. The best, except for…

“Diaz! Good one.” Sensei Lawrence praises.

“Nice, dude!” Hawk comes to fist bump him.

Tory comes to you. “Girl get it together! You’re better than that!”

“I’m fucking trying.”

Miguel hears the two of you talking and decides to insert himself into the conversation. “Come on, it’s not a big deal.”

“I say this with love but it is a big deal and I’m gonna find a way to beat you.”

“Okay. Whatever you say.”

[. . .]

“Hey,” you hear Miguel call from behind you, turning around for a split second to look at him before getting back to packing your stuff to leave the dojo. 

“Hey.”

“So, are we still on for tonight?”

“Yeah. I just wanna go home first and take a shower.”

He scratches the back of his neck. “Hey are you okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“Something seems… weird.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, babe,” you tell him, bringing a hand to his face and lightly tapping his cheek.

“You sure?”

“Yes! I just said it is!” You realize you blew up at him for no reason, immediately feeling bad for it and apologizing, not managing to look at him. “Sorry.”

“See? That’s what I mean!”

“I really am sorry.”

“Okay, but something’s clearly wrong.”

You stay silent, and he walks up to you, cornering you so you’d face him.

“What’s going on?”

Honestly, you don’t want to tell him. Because it would sound stupid. Because it is stupid. You don’t even exactly know why it had gotten so under your skin this time. 

“It’s fine. I’m just a bit off today.”

“You don’t have to talk about it, but you don't have to lie either.”

“Fine. You wanna know what’s wrong? I’m frustrated because you keep beating me.”

“What?”

“Every single time we’re picked to fight I just can’t fucking beat you. And yes, I’m glad you don’t go easy on me, cause that would be like a million times worse, but I'm frustrated with myself. You’re the only one I've never fully beat in a match. The closest I’ve ever gotten to that was a tie.”

“Well most of the time it ends up in a tie.” 

“Yeah but none of the time did it end with me winning.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset about this.”

“Of course you don’t. I just feel like if I still can’t beat you then have I really been getting better?”

“What? That’s nonsense, babe. You know that, right? Of course you’ve been getting better. We all have.”

“See I told you it would be stupid. I don't even know why I'm feeling this way.”

“That’s okay. We can just sort that out.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll ask sensei for the keys.”

“What?”

“We’re gonna stay here and fight and we’re not gonna leave until you win.”

“That’s really not what I was trying to get from this-”

“What, are you scared?” He knew just how to tug on your strings. 

“Oh fuck no.”

“Then we’re doing this.”

“But what about the date?”

“We can go tomorrow. If you need my help today, I'll help you today.”

“Okay.”

[. . .]

“Alright, ready?”

You only nod your head yes, too focused to even speak.

“Okay. Round one.”

You get a couple punches in, but he’s faster than most of your hits. He wins..

You huff, annoyed. “Again.”

“Again.”

“Again.”

“Again.”

“Again.”

“Okay that’s it. Again.”

This time, determination runs through your veins, as tired as you were. Every single moment of feeling weak or inferior or as though you were seen by others as basically the female equivalent of Miguel, and not yourself, not someone capable of being better than him in any way, channeled into this round. 

And you won. This time, you fucking won. 

“Wait that’s three,” you realize.

“Yeah! You won!” Miguel celebrates.

“What?”

“You won, babe!”

“Oh my God. Holy fucking shit. I won?!”

He laughs, coming up to you. “You did.” He places a quick kiss on your lips, but you’re taken over by the adrenaline, pulling him back to you by the collar of his shirt when he went to pull away, tangling him into another kiss, deeper and more passionate this time around. “That was hot,” he comments, as you finally did let him part ways with you to breathe, your bodies still flushed together. 

You feel your cheeks burn at his comment. “I just kicked your ass,” you joke.

He doesn’t even seem fazed by the comment. “Yeah you did,” he grins.

“I did not expect that to unlock some sort of loser kink in you.”

“Hey! That’s not what this is!”

You lift an eyebrow, amused. 

“What, you’re telling me it’s a crime if my insanely hot girlfriend looks insanely hot while kicking my ass?”

“Should I kick your ass more often then?”

“You’re welcome to.”

“You’re so weird.”

“Shut up,” he retorts, finally having enough of the playful bantering, unable to wait a second longer to have your lips on his again. 

Miguel pulls you even closer to him- if that were even possible- by pulling on your waist, not wasting a second more before diving in again, pulling you into a kiss that is much more feral this time around. His actions scream that he wants you, and the high from having reached your goal and beat him in the last round mixed with the lust forming in you from seeing him so affected, so attracted to this, it feels good.

You suppose some people would maybe come into an issue if they found themselves in your place. Men aren’t exactly known for being great at dealing with women being better than them in… well, anything. But Miguel acted genuinely proud of you. Hell, he’d canceled your date night to help you with this because he realized it was important to you. And more than being supportive, he was turned on by your display of power. 

His kisses start trailing out of your lips, to your jaw, to the space below your ear. “You did so well, love. You should get something in turn, huh?”

Your mind was getting a bit foggy. Still, you join in playing his game. “I suppose I should. What are you gonna do?”

“Whatever you want me to,” he breathes out. Oh. That was definitely new. 

“Whatever I want?” He only nods, looking up at you, waiting to be told what to do. Holy shit, that was hot. “That sounds good.”

“Just tell me, please, I’ll make you feel so good, I promise,” he pleads. It was almost pathetic. You decide you’d never get enough of hearing him plead like that. You loved the times in which he was more dominant, but you could definitely get behind this too, no issues whatsoever.

You pretend to think. “I don’t think I will.”

“What? Why not?”

“I want you to guess.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“I- Uh- Ih-” he takes a deep breath. He liked that. You smiled. “I can do that.”

“Good boy,” you try, hoping he didn’t find it weird. 

Apparently, he didn’t. “Fuck. Fuck,” he lets out in almost strangled sounds, wordlessly dropping himself to the floor. He looks up at you with doe eyes, as if pleading for permission. You smile at him, signaling everything was okay. You cage his jaw with both your hands, and he closes his eyes for a moment, letting you play with his hair.

“You look so pretty like this,” you coo, and he feels it down his spine, his eyes fluttering open. 

“Sit.”

“What?”

“Sit,” he repeats himself, but it isn’t demanding. Not this time. 

“I heard you.”

“Sit, please, baby.”

You grin. You didn’t know you’d like this this much. “Of course, baby.” You sit down on the bench, legs closed. He parts them confidently, eyes not leaving yours as he does so slowly, positioning his body between them. With his face mere inches from yours, he looks up at you again. 

“Do you want me to kiss you?” He guesses. His cheeks red, he clearly looks embarrassed. It turned him on and it turned you on too. 

You nod eagerly, signaling he’d guessed right. He smiles and closes the distance between you, pulling you down and attaching his lips to yours. It starts out slow, tender, experimental- testing the waters. He grows eager pretty fast, though, kissing you harder, his hands traveling to either of your thighs and planting themselves there firmly, squeezing in a way that makes you gasp slightly in surprise. 

He pulls away just to tease you about it. That’s the kind of little shit he is.

“What was that for?”

“Nothing.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” 

“Not this then?”

He squeezes your thigh again and you try to act unbothered.” He notices though, pleased with himself.

“Oh shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He pulls you into a kiss again with no warning, more feral than before, his hand traveling upwards, inside the legs of the shorts you were wearing. 

“Take it off,” you pant out, a stern tone overtaking your words, and he complies without questioning. You smile, pleased with that. You lift your hips slightly for him and he throws the shorts somewhere on the floor behind you. 

He stares at your underwear for a few moments, as if lost in a trance. You laugh. “Hello? You here?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this.”

“Used to what?” You move a hand to caress his face. 

“The fact that I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.”

“Aw, do you like that, baby? Does it turn you on?” You ask, your tone almost mocking him.

He only nods his head yes, looking embarrassed.

“That’s good.” You make a show to slowly take off your shirt, a sudden surge of confidence running through your veins at his words, discarding it along with the shorts behind you.  His eyes widen and he mumbles a few words, the volume of his words so low you couldn’t make it out for the life of you, before he just surges forward again, not aiming for your lips this time, but for your jaw. 

“What was that?” You manage to breathe out as he continues his trail of kisses along your jaw.

“What?”

“If you’re gonna talk you’re gonna let me hear it. Got it?”

“Oh-okay.” He continues to place quick, slight pecks along your jawline, but you know exactly what he’s doing.

“You’re not distracting me from that. I wanna know what you said, baby. Wanna hear you.”

“I said- I said uh-“ he gulps. “It’s dumb.”

“That’s okay.”

“I just said ‘fuck me’.”

You let out a small laugh. “Oh. It was dumb,” you mock him again, and you can see he didn’t expect that.

“What?”

“I though you wanted to fuck me,” you joke.

 He doesn’t take it as a joke. “I do. I do I just meant- it was just-“ oh. This was for real. 

“I know, love. I was just teasing you. Okay? You’re being so good to me.”

His eyes almost sparkle at the praise. 

“You know I think I changed my mind.”

“What?” 

“Maybe I should fuck you.”

“What do you mean?”

You look down on him and smile, a genuine sweet smile. “Get up.”

“But-“

“I thought you said you’d do whatever i wanted you to,” you fake-pout. 

He doesn’t say a word before standing back up. You do the same, keeping your body flushed to his. You slowly turn the two of you around, cornering him until the back of his knees hit the bench and pushing him to sit down on it. 

Standing in front of him, you tilt your head to the side as you take in the view. He looked disheveled as ever. You loved it. “I think you’re wearing too many clothes.

“I- I can take it off.”

“Yeah I think you should.”

“What… what do you want me to take off?”

“Let’s go with the shirt first, baby. How about that?”

He nods furiously. “Yeah I can do that,” he takes his shirt off in a millisecond, throwing it with your clothes on the floor. 

“Oh, you look so pretty,” you coo, stepping closer to him and lifting his chin up to look at you. You make your way around the bench to be behind him, and you can see him gulp in anticipation. Fuck, you were loving this a little too much. You trace his biceps with your finger. “Your arms, I love your arms, you know that? So big and strong,” you exaggerate, and he quirks an eyebrow at the suspicious comment. This doesn’t sound like it was getting to a nice praising place. “And your body, I mean your abs. Your thighs, your thighs are so pretty, baby,” you crouch a bit, still behind him, wrapping yourself around his back so you could snake your arms to his thighs, still only tracing them with a single finger. “So how come you lost to me like a bitch?”

That seems to remind him very well of what was happening.

“It- it was one time.”

“One time you lost to me. But you’ve barely ever won, have you?”

He stays quiet. 

“Come on, baby, talk to me…” you pout, snaking your arms around his torso and kissing his neck.

“N-no.”

“Did you like that you lost to me baby?”

Quiet again.

“Did it turn you on?” You whisper in his ear and you can feel him take in big a breath. .

He couldn’t even look at you .

“Oh, pretty boy, I wanna hear your voice!”

He gulps again. “It- it turned me on,” he confesses. 

“I never knew you were into this sort of thing.”

“Me- me neither.”

“Do you like it when I’m stronger than you? When I tell you what to do?”

You remove yourself from his body entirely, and he whips his head at record speed to look at you, desperate for your touch again. You circle the bench once again, standing in front of him. You grab his jaw and lifts his head up to look at you, your other hand messing with his hair. “So pathetic. I’ve barely done anything to you and you’re this hard.”

You finally sit yourself down on his thighs, legs on either side of his torso, and he immediately and instinctively grabs your ass ‘for support’ as he’s always insisted with a grin. 

“You’re so fucking pathetic you’ll do anything I tell you to. Won’t you?” You pout, tilting your head.

“I’ll- I’ll do anything you want.” 

“That’s a good boy,” you mess with and pet his hair again. You loved it when it was just long enough for his curls to appear. 

He shivers. “Can you say it again?”

“Oh, no can do, baby. You’ll have to keep being a good boy to earn it.”

“I’ll- I’ll be a good boy, okay?”

You nod silently, your arms draped around his neck, and you pull yourself closer to get access to his face. You kiss along his jawline slowly, paying extra attention to the spots just under his ears, which made him shiver like crazy. When you find it sufficient, you move down to his neck, and he lets you, tilting his head to the side. You kiss down his neck, trying your best to not leave any marks. He’s still shivering now, and you know him well enough to know he’s okay, but can’t resist teasing him a bit more. 

“Oh no, baby, you’re trembling! Is everything okay?” You feign ignorance.  He doesn’t reply. “Aw are you too horny to speak to me? Is that the issue?” You mock.

He lifts his hips for some friction, an involuntary tell that he was enjoying this too. “Aw, do you like it when I’m mean to you? Huh?” You lift his chin again. He begrudgingly nods his head yes. You smile and move your hand from his chin to his cheeks, squeezing both off them. “Does my baby like it when I’m in control? When I handle you like this? When I call you names?” 

He tries to reply, but can’t really with you squeezing his face like that. 

“Oh I can’t hear you baby!” You let go of his face. “You’re gonna have to say it again.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, I- I like it when you’re mean to me.” 

“I know, baby boy. I can feel it.” With no other warning, you palm him through his shorts. He was impossibly hard. Knowing he was liking this was for sure improving your confidence. The moment your hand meets his crotch his breathing becomes unsteady and he thrusts his hips up again, wanting more. You start kissing along his neck as you keep feeling him up through the shorts, and then he is gone. He lets himself let out delicious moans you would play on repeat if you could, tilting his head back to grant you better access to his neck. He wants more, and you know he does. But you want to hear him say it. 

After a few minutes, he does. 

“Please take it off.”

You press a gentle kiss to his neck, containing a grin. “What are you talking about, babe?”

“My shorts, take them off, please. Please, take them off.”

You press a quick peck on his lips this time. “You beg so pretty, baby. I think I’ll need more of that.”

He looks confused.

“Anything I tell you, right?” 

He nods. 

“Good. Eat me out.”

His eyes widen at the bluntness of it all. And then he realizes what you meant by needing more of his begging: you weren’t going to solve his little problem all that soon. 

“I- yes. Yeah.” 

You pull yourself off of him and he stands up as quickly as humanly possible, grabbing your hand and yanking you to Sensei’s office, rushing to move everything that was on his desk. You catch his drift and pull yourself up to sit on it. You’re so enthralled you don’t even really have the time to rethink what you’re doing and where you are. Miguel gets himself on his knees, and the sight of it from above is breathtaking. 

“Are you sure you wanna be on your knees? They’re gonna hurt.” You ask him, seriously this time.

“I don’t care,” is all he says, dismissing the thought. He pulls you closer to the edge of the desk, and you let yourself lean back on your elbows. He brings a hand up your thigh and takes off your underwear, you lift your hips up to help. 

He brings both his hands to your thighs, slowly pulling them apart, opening your legs. 

He wastes no time before diving in, startling you when, in a second, his head is between your thighs while his hands squeeze them hard and his mouth is suddenly on you. 

He moves his tongue up and down your clit, occasionally circling around it. Now and then he takes a long lick, from your hole to your clit, letting out a moan from time to time as he tastes you, and he picks up on the shaky breaths and loud moans you let out at that (and the way your hands fly to his hair, slightly pulling it.) 

He moves his tongue to your hole, licking and kissing around it before getting it inside.

It makes you almost want to scream out his name. 

“Oh my god. You’re being so good to me, baby. Please don’t stop-” 

You can feel his smile. 

He takes one of his hands off of your thigh and moves it to thumb at your clit as he keeps fucking you with his tongue. The feeling is heavenly, but you can’t help but want more. 

“Your fingers.” Is all you say, and he gets it.

Normally in a situation like this he’d be teasing you in some way, but right now just the thought of upsetting you with that and having you leaving him to finish himself off, or something down that lane, got him quiet. 

He changes what he’s doing, going back to flicking your clit with his tongue, and slowly inserting one of his fingers. You decide you want to tease a bit more. “That all you got?” You challenge him, knowing exactly what you’re doing. He inserts another finger, not taking the care to do it slowly this time, and he pushes them deep inside you, curling them upwards to make sure you felt it.

You let out a moan that’s so pornographic you’re almost embarrassed at it, but you can feel him grin at it, pleased with the reaction. He keeps on, but at a slow pace. In other instances, you didn’t mind some slow, passionate sex. You loved it, even. But right now you wanted to be fucked.

“Harder.”

He pulls his head up to kiss you. You let him. As you make out, your taste still on his tongue, his fingers thrust harder, deeper inside you, making you moan into his mouth, which Miguel seemed to enjoy a little too much.

You can feel yourself brimming an orgasm, and your words become nonsense as he keeps on, your noises becoming so higher-pitched you can barely register you’re the one making them. 

“Fuck I’m gonna cum. Baby, I’m gonna cum. Holy fucking-“

It hits you suddenly, killing your train of thought. Your body trembles as he keeps thrusting his fingers into you, letting you ride out your high. He laps it all up gladly, but you pull him away, your clit oversensitive. 

That doesn’t mean you didn’t want more.

“Everything okay?” 

“Yes, baby. You were such a good boy. But I want you to fuck me now.” 

Miguel was still not used to you being this blunt. And honestly neither were you, for the matter. The words just kept coming out. 

“What- what do you want me to do?” 

You get close to his ear and whisper. “Whatever you want, baby.”

His eyes widen. Whatever he wants. 

 He pulls you off the desk and wordlessly takes you back to the locker room. He leaves you for a second to retrieve a condom from his bag. A prepared man, you’d say.

You manage to take a better look at him and laugh. He furrows his eyebrows together. “What?”

“You look so fucked out right now.”

He rolls his eyes at you and takes off his shorts, kicking them away. He goes to pull his boxers down but you stop him, stroking him in an agonizingly slow pace. He lets out a groan. “Please stop, I’m not gonna last.”

“Oh poor you.” You yank his boxers down. His dick is so hard it must be painful. And all from losing a fight and being called mean names. He walks the two of you backwards until your back is against a wall. He puts the condom on and looks at you for a green light. 

“Go on, baby.” 

He nods, pressing his cock into your hole slowly, letting you adjust to the intrusion.

“Fuck.” You breathe out.

“Was that a good fuck or a bad fuck? Does it hurt?”

“I’m alright. It was a good fuck.”

“Okay.” He hikes up one of your legs to his waist, and you think he’ll be content with that position, but he hikes up your other leg too, pressing your back even more firmly to the wall and supporting your weight by holding firmly onto the back of your thighs. 

“Woah what are you doing?”

He doesn’t bother responding, thrusting into you experimentally. 

“Holy shit.”

That is enough for him. His thrusts become harder, deeper, faster. He hadn’t realized just how desperate he was until now. 

Hitting the spot inside you that made you see stars with every thrust, it doesn’t take long for his breath to quicken and his thrusts to become sloppier. “I’m gonna- can I-“

Was he trying to ask for permission to cum? Holy fucking shit, that was hot.

“Shh, it’s okay baby. You’ve been so good. You can cum.”

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou,” he chanted.

 You laugh as his desperation, but it quickly turns into a moan, with Miguel eager to cum and fucking you so hard now you can’t even understand how he could still hold up your weight while doing that. Bless you universe for giving you a strong, strong boyfriend. But all of that didn’t matter now, because he was fucking you so good you could feel the familiar sensation of an orgasm building again.

“Please don’t stop.” That was the first time you begged him for something the whole time.

“I won’t, mi amor.” Oh, that broke you. That one pet name didn’t come out all that frequently, so when it did, you felt giddy on the inside. 

With a few more thrusts, both of you reach your high, and at that point Miguel did have to pull you down, although your legs currently trembled so hard it was a little difficult to stand, but he helps you out after tying the condom up and throwing it away.

“Holy shit,” you finally let out. 

“Holy shit,” he agrees. 

“What were you saying about your loser kink again?”

“Will you shut up about that?” He smiles.

“Was I too mean to you? I might’ve gotten a little carried away."

He looks down to the floor in embarrassment as if he hadn’t just fucked you into oblivion. “I liked it.”

“That’s good baby. So, shower?”

“Yeah you stink,” he makes a disgusted face, plugging his nose and everything just to irritate you. 

You roll your eyes at him. 

A/N: pls be kind to me and cut me some slack i've never posted smut before 😭 i promise ive had sex before 😭 fighting for my life lmao

[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.”  

[eddiesxangel]

Fool Me Once | Eddie Munson x Reader

Anonymous Asked: Eddie being your first everything and first boyfriend and reader is like kinda awkward or something. Then Eddie gets really drunk and gets home to reader and starts yelling at her saying like “You’re only dating me because you don’t want to be a sad loser virgin.” and she gets really sad because she genuinely loves him so much and she starts thinking that he doesn’t love her at all… Then maybe the day after he can’t find reader anywhere and maybe she’s like with robin just crying her eyes out.

AN: IDK IDK it’s my first angsty thing I’ve done hope it’s ok 🫣

Cw: angst, hurt no comfort. Small bitty smut. Use of pet names, one use of reference to reader as “my girl”

“I love you, god, I love you” Eddie slowly pumped his swollen cock in and out of you.

You’ve never felt this wave of pleasure before; no wonder everyone was so hyped about sex.

“Fuck you’re so tight.”

“Baby, please.” You didn’t know what you were asking for, but the feeling in your lower stomach was starting to build more and more and more until! Euphoria. Euphoria fuelled your body. The wave of pleasure that Eddie just granted you felt indebted to him.

“I love you,” you sigh as your body melts into your boyfriend.

You’ve been with him for almost six months and finally felt ready to give himself to him. You hadn’t slept with anyone until now, and you were so happy you waited. You never felt so close, so in love, so unbelievably happy in this moment. Life was amazing; nothing could ever break this feeling you have.

Ring ring ring

You were abruptly awakened by the sound of your phone ringing. You were fast asleep, and now feeling disoriented, you looked at the clock. It was already 3:38am. You wondered who could be calling you at this late hour. Maybe it was an emergency? Your heart racing, you rushed over to the phone in a state of panic.

"Hello?"

"You little slut"

"Eddie?"

"Who else would it be? Are you expecting a booty call? another guy you want to fuck?"

"I don't understand? What's wrong."

“What's wrong? I'll tell ya what's wrong! You’re only with me, so you’re not some loser virgin, that’s what! Do you think all the guys will want you to know that your cherry is popped? Well, guess what, honey? Now you're just a sad little whore.” He slurred.

“Wha-“

“You think you’re hot shit now? Getting with the freak of Hawkins? Gonna brag about how you fucked the freak?”

“Eddie, what are you talking about?” your voice wobbled.

He was obviously drunk out of his mind, but as they all say, drunk words are a sober man’s thoughts.

“I know how this is going to go… well, not if I beat you to it.”

“I don't understand?”

“I don't understand?” He mocked you in a high-pitched voice. “I’ll tell you what I’m talking about!” He yelled, and you cowered. He didn’t care. His voice got louder and louder. “You were a sad loooooser virgin before me! And now you’re just a sad loser who fucked the freak,” he laughed. He actually laughed.

"Eddie-"

“So we are don-”

You hung up the phone before he could finish his sentence.

You couldn't believe this was happening? You gave Eddie everything. You thought he was your everything up until this point. You slept with Eddie for the first time a week ago. Things were good, great, even. Until he went to the hideout tonight without you.

You stayed up the rest of the night because you were in tears about what Eddie said. None of this makes any sense? You always loved Eddie, and you thought he loved you back? How could he be so cruel?

You were woken up from your daze by a knock on your apartment door. You stumbled out of your room, still in your sleep shirt, with puffy eyes from crying all night. Robin was here to pick you up for work.

"Good Mor-" Her smile dropped along with the cup of coffee she was handing you as she saw your appearance. "Oh my god! What happened?" she rushed inside to wrap her arms around you.

"Eddie. He-" You could hardly get the words out. You just crumpled into a ball on the floor and sobbed pathetically in front of Robin.

"I'm going to kill that son of a bitch" She let you cry into her on the floor. "Come on, you need to get out of here. Get changed. We are calling in sick, and we can return to my place."

Eddie woke up the morning after with a terrible hangover. It was already 12:35pm, and he couldn't remember how he got home. He suddenly felt an intense wave of nausea, which prompted him to hurry to the bathroom, where he vomited uncontrollably.

After the fifth shot, things in his memory become a little hazy. He was pretty hammered by then, but he still kept drinking with the boys. He vaguely remembered Jason being at the bar and making some leud comment about you, but other than that. Nothing.

He stumbled over to his answering machine to find it empty. That's weird? You always call him before your shift, and at least try to catch him on your lunch break. Today was Wednesday, right? You always work the morning shifts today.

Eddie tried calling your number, but he had no luck, so he tried calling your work, and when they said you called in sick, he got worried. So he tried your number again, and it still went to voice mail. Maybe you were sleeping? He tried calling back to see if Robin might know more. But when your annoyed coworker picked up the phone to tell him Robin also called in sick, he knew something was up.

Eddie rushed to his phone book to find Robin's number and called it. he waited for four rings until...

"Hello?"

"Hey! Rob it's Eddie, have you-"

"We are not speaking to you."

"We? Who's we?"

But it was too late. All he heard was the sound of the dial tone.

He tried again, no answer this time. He tried once more before getting pissed and decided to just go over to her place because what the fuck?

When Eddie got to Robin's, he pounded on the door like the pounding going on in his head.

"Robin! Open the door, please."

The door finally swung open to a very angry-looking Robin standing before him.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, Munson?!" She stepped outside and closed the door behind her so he couldn't come in.

"Robin, I'm extremely hungover and do not have the patience for your riddles. Do you know where my girl is or not? I'm worried sick."

"Oh, you can relax now since she is not your girl anymore, buddy." she poked his chest roughly. "you made that abundantly clear last night.

"Last night? I don't remember a thing from last night!"

"Well, think harder because she has been in there sobbing her eyes out from your little phone call."

"Phone call? What pho-" Then it all came rushing back to Eddie. It hit him like a Mack Truck.

"Yo Munson, where is that little whore of yours? Is she usually dangling off your arm like your little pet?" Jason snorted. "I bet she's off sucking another guy's cock; realized what a loser you are."

Jason didn't say much more to antagonize Eddie and get in his head, especially with the amount of alcohol he had consumed.

How could he be so stupid?

"Robin, oh my god, I fucked up. I fucked up big. Let me apologize."

"No. not now." She's a mess, as you can imagine-"

Robin was interrupted by the creek of the front door opening.

There you stood, looking as small as ever. Your eyes are still puffy, and your hair is a mess in your pyjamas at 1:30 in the afternoon.

"Baby, I-"

"Don't!" you cut him off, and Robin leaves to give you two spaces. "Don't you dare come here and think you can just take back what you said to me!" You had done a lot of crying; your anger was showing through.

"You don't understand, Jason was-"

"Jason?! What the fuck does Jason have to do with this? You hurt me, Eddie! I gave you everything! And then you throw it back in my face, accusing me of sleeping around? Are you insane? I've been in love with you for the last year and give myself to you, and you just throw that all away because of Jason Fucking Carver?"

"Baby, please, I'm so sorry; I'll do anything!"

"You've done enough." You turn and slam the door. That's it. You were done. Your heart felt so heavy… like it was just smashed into a million pieces. You were so close to caving when you saw the look of sorrow in those puppy dog eyes. But he had hurt you so bad you couldn’t believe he felt an ounce of pain he had inflicted upon you.

You and Eddie were officially done.

You have been radio silent. You were held up in your room, and you refused to do anything other than go to work.

Eddie called you excessively. It was every day, multiple times a day. His messages made your heartache as you played them back. You could hear in his voice how broken he was. He had fucked up so bad you didn’t know if you should give him another chance. For two weeks, you refused to answer your phone. You were so sick of it ringing you eventually took it off the line.

Eddie did everything he could think of to try and win you back. He sent you flowers to your work every single shift. He called, wrote love letters, and just needed you to speak to him. He was a desperate mess without you. Eddie’s heart, like not, was ripped into shreds, and it was all his fault.

You’ve been in his life since high school since he met you in hellfire freshman year. Then, once you finally confessed your feelings for one another, he couldn’t believe his luck. You said you wanted to be with him, that you wanted him to be the only one you give yourself to. He never thought that he would be so lucky... And here he was, shooting himself in the foot. He even tried to go to your apartment a few times. But you would never answer the door. He would leave a note each time he showed up unannounced. It would say how sorry he was and how much he loved you, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to believe him.

The slurred words repeatedly played in your head, and you couldn’t make it stop. No matter how much he apologized, nothing he could say could make you forget. Your chest felt like it had a fifty-pound weight sitting right on your heart. Your eyes were permanently swollen from the continuous crying you couldn’t seem to stop. He had stolen your heart and then stomped on it until it seized to beat.

The first month after the breakup was rough, but avoiding Eddie seemed to be easy enough. He eventually got the message by month two and stopped trying altogether.

As time went on, you slowly started to heal. Eventually, your constant thoughts about Eddie subsided. Eventually, they stopped. You never thought you would get over the hurt, but the distance helped. You were getting on your merry way by month three. Finally, feeling like yourself again, eating regularly, sleeping regularly. You hadn’t heard or seen him, and you were finally freed from the prison sentence that was Eddie Munson.

Time spent with your friends and family was exactly what you needed. Even though Robin saw Eddie regularly, she never forgave him for what he did to you. Their friendship was strained, which strained his friendship with Steve as well as Nancy. They wanted to take his side, but once they heard what he had said to you, they couldn’t simply look the other way. So you would hang out with them when Eddie wasn’t there and vice versa. They made sure you never had to encounter one another for the time being. However, it was getting more and more difficult to have two separate schedules to appease you both.

You were to go to Steve’s for dinner with everyone, pizza and movie night. When you arrived, everyone was tense. Lines got crossed, miscommunication ensued, and as you walked through to the kitchen, he was sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of water in his hand, almost slipping from his grip as his Bambi eyes widened at the sight of you.

“Oh shit!” You hear Steve curse when he realizes the mistake that has been made.

“I’m going to go.” You turn and sprint to the door.

“Not wait!l You can hear Eddie shuffle off the chair behind you, but you refuse to look back.

“Please! Wait!”

Threatening tears sting your eyes, and you rush out the front door.

“Sweetheart, wait.” You feel his hand hook your elbow as your body is jerked in the opposite direction in which you’re running.

“What!” You yell, but then you see his eyes. You really look at him for the first time in three months. He had bags under his eyes, and the dark circles extenuated the deep chocolate of his eyes.

“I-I uh,” he lets out a deep breath, “I wanted to say I’m sorry I’m so sorry. I was so god damn stupid, so so stupid, the dumbest guy on the planet. I can’t believe I fucked this up so badly; I love you. I love you so much. I can’t do this anymore without you, baby. Please.” He was on his knees, begging, literally on his knees, grovelling.

“Eddie, get up.”

“No, I don’t deserve it.” He was so pathetic, but he didn’t care. “I love you, please, just please. I need you in my life.”

“I don’t know Eddie…”

“So that’s not a no?!” He popped up like an excited little bunny, the silver oh hope he needed to get by.

“Eddie…” you sigh.

“No, no, you said maybe! You don’t know. You haven’t decided. Please, baby, I love you.”

“This is too hard.” Your lip wobbles as you try walking away again, but he interlocks your hand with his.

“Please, can I at least just hold you?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You let your hand slip from his grip, and he unwillingly let go.

Eddie felt you slipping through his fingers, literally. The hope he had moments ago was gone.

“I’m sorry”

“So am I…” without another look back, you walked away.

[latin5mamii]

Angel - Jude Bellingham

|WARNINGS: nsfw (not too much you'll have to wait😉) Previous part |SUMMARY:How could you know that a stupid nickname could change everything? |AUTHOR'S NOTE: Long chapter (I know you love me😌) enjoy!

“Girl he’s literally the love of your life, what’s wrong?”

YES, maybe you were overthinking on Jobe's warning. You know that he, being your best friend forever, has always been protective of you. If there had been something wrong he would have told you right away, right?

The first thing you did after Jude left was call your best friend, who was sure to attack you in any way possible. So now you find yourself talking about it with her, and she thinks you're stupid, obviously, but maybe you too start to think that you're a little paranoid.

“You're right, maybe? I don't know what to think either and I'm not even sure I realized what happened."

That kiss, God, couldn't get out of your head. You'd probably been waiting for this moment since middle school, yet you managed to ruin it from your thoughts. You try to practice one of the therapies to banish bad thoughts but it obviously doesn't work.

“Y/N, let me be honest with you: just trust Jude, you know your bond is very strong and I think he wouldn't have kissed you if he didn't want to”

But that's not what you meant, unfortunately. It's obvious that if he hadn't wanted to kiss you he wouldn't have even stayed at your house to sleep, because let's face it, you both knew what would happen. What if he didn't have to leave? You know very well what would happen after that kiss. You didn't even want to confront Jude because you didn't want him to think that you don't trust him. He said he would write to you as soon as possible. Maybe you have nothing left but to trust him. Ok that you study psychology , but not everyone is definitely crazy or plotting behind your back. And anyway you had other things to think about: You probably didn't forget that he invited you to one of his games, right?

"He also invited me to one of his matches, the one in two weeks, I think"

You can hear your friend gasp in amazement, you can hear an envious but playful tone in her voice.

"Are you fucking serious? Lucky you!"

The day continued in a calm, but boring way. You were waiting for a message from him, that's the truth.

 You even thought about sending him a message, but would you seriously have done it? So you tried to distract yourself: reading, studying , trying to do anything not to think about him, about that kiss and the way he could make you feel butterflies in your stomach at any moment. 

(Seriously, could you stop thinking about him for just one minute? It’s like he’s the only thing on your mind. Oh wait, he probably is.)

The moment you finally stopped thinking about it (Or at least you think) your phone buzzed, and you, as if you've been waiting for years, take it right away, and when you read Jude's name on the screen, you can't help but smile and your heart skips a beat.

Jude: Hey Angel, hope your day was as good as mine. I can't stop thinking about you. Lunch was a drag without you.

You couldn't help but smile as you typed back.

You: Hey, lunch was boring here too. I missed you.

(You missed him? It’s only been a few hours. But hey, who am I to judge?)

A few moments later, your phone buzzed again.

Jude: Let’s make up for it then. Are you free tonight?

Your heart raced at the thought of seeing him again so soon.

You: Definitely. What do you have in mind?

Jude: How about we take a trip to the lake? We can have a picnic and watch the sunset.

You:You always know how to make me smile, what time?

Okay, maybe this message was a bit stupid, but as soon as he replies, you can see that this message was appreciated.

Jude:Built for this, ain’t I? I’ll come pick you up at 6?

You: I can’t wait

Jude:See you soon then, Angel.

You spent the next few hours getting ready, packing a small bag with everything you might need for the lake. The excitement built with each passing minute, your heart racing at the thought of spending the evening with Jude.

As the clock neared 6, you were ready and waiting. Jude arrived right on time, his eyes lighting up as he saw you.

“Hey, beautiful,” he said, pulling you into a warm embrace. 

"Beautiful?" You say with a slightly embarrassed tone as you rest your head on his chest.

"I can't deny it" An embarrassed smile appears on your face.

The car ride was pretty quiet, but also stressful because of all those awkward silences that happened because of what happened earlier at your house.

When you got to the lake, you settled on a towel and he started staring at you again, not that you didn't like it.

Jude’s eyes lit up with mischief. “Ready for a swim?” he asked, his voice dripping with playfulness.

“Absolutely,” you replied, slipping off your shoes and heading towards the water. Jude followed close behind, his gaze never leaving you.

Once in the lake, you splashed him playfully, laughing as he blinked in surprise. “Oh, it’s on now,” he said, closing the distance between you with a few swift strokes.

Before you could react, he scooped you up, water dripping from both of you. “Put me down!” you protested, giggling.

“Not a chance,” he replied, his voice low and teasing. He twirled you around before gently setting you back in the water, his hands lingering on your waist.

“Alright, alright, you win,” you said, breathless from laughter.

He grinned, his eyes locking onto yours. “I always do.”

His fingers lightly tracing patterns on your skin under the water, sending shivers up your spine.

“Jude…” you began, but his name on your lips seemed to ignite something in him. His gaze darkened with desire as he moved even closer, his breath hot against your neck.

“You’re driving me crazy, you know that?” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours. The kiss was searing, his hands gripping your waist tightly as if he never wanted to let go. You responded eagerly, your arms wrapping around his neck as you pulled him closer.

The water lapped around you as the kiss deepened, growing more passionate by the second. Jude’s hands roamed over your back, pulling you against him as if he couldn’t get enough. You felt his heart pounding against your chest, matching the frantic beat of your own.

You broke the kiss for a brief moment, gasping for air. But the second you met his eyes, filled with an intensity that took your breath away, you were drawn back together. His hands moved to your hips, lifting you slightly as you wrapped your legs around his waist, anchoring yourself to him.

"We gotta pick up where we left off this morning, yeah?" he groaned against your lips, his voice rough with need.

You nodded quickly and in an instant his lips were on your neck, leaving significant marks. You let a soft moan from your lips and you know that this is driving him even more crazy. His lips are now on your lips again, in a kiss with hunger. You have been waiting for this moment for a long time, and it has finally arrived.

The feel of his skin against yours, the taste of his lips, the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the universe,it was intoxicating.

Jude’s hands moved up and down your body, exploring every curve, every inch of you, as if he couldn’t get enough. You matched his intensity, your own hands tangling in his hair, pulling him even closer.

After what felt like both an eternity and no time at all, you finally pulled back, both of you breathless and flushed. Jude rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath.

You both stayed there for a moment, just holding each other, the water gently rocking you. When you finally made your way back to the towel, he started talking to you.

"My mom... she’s been asking about you. She wants you to come to dinner tomorrow night. She misses you,a lot."

Your heart warmed at the thought. Jude's family had always been like a second family to you, and the invitation really warmed your heart, "I'd love to come," you replied, smiling.

“She’ll be happy to hear that”

He said, caressing your cheek. “Anyway, there's one more thing I wanted to ask you.” A sense of anxiety made you laugh nervously. He looked slightly more serious.

"I have to go back to Madrid the day after tomorrow," After a short pause, he continues, "And I was wondering, if maybe you wanted to come with me."

Now you are sure of the fact that most likely, at this request, your eyes widened and perhaps, your heart might have missed more than a beat. Did it mean that you would sleep together every night? Did it mean that perhaps you were his girlfriend? A question now kept bombarding your head: What are you two?

A couple? Best friends who have gone too far? You don't know how long you've been staring at him without giving him a response, but just the thought of actually staring at him shocked embarrasses you so much that it makes you want to disappear.

"I mean, I want to" You are still slightly shocked by the proposal and can't form a sensible sentence.

Jude starts chuckling at your form of communication.

"You want to? Okay, that's a good start"

"But I'll let you know tomorrow for sure, okay?"

"It's more than okay, angel"

After spending a little more time at the lake, enjoying the sunset and each other’s company, you and Jude eventually packed up and headed back to his car. The drive back was filled with comfortable silence and soft music, your hand resting in his, little stolen glances that made you giggle, is this what it feels like when you're in love?When you reached your house, Jude walked you to your door, his arm draped around your shoulders. As you turned to face him, he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Goodnight, beautiful,” he whispered, his eyes twinkling under the porch light.

“Goodnight, Jude,” you replied softly, your heart full as you watched him walk back to his car.

A smile played on your lips and you couldn’t be more excited for what was about to come. You giggled all the way to your apartment and as soon as you got in you flopped onto the bed, stomping your feet excitedly. How can I blame you? You've been waiting for this your whole life.

[corynation]

OMG NO 😂😂

From what i saw from greys he isnt dereks brother i think ??

Also... Mark slept with dereks sister in the show so i thought it was ok to ask?

Sorry if i didnt make myself clear tho 😂

But she can totally not be dereks sister

Anyway sorry for the confusion

New Beginnings

alex karev x reader

tags : angst, some fluff, uhhh more tags, this is a little everywhere but i hope its okay, not that sad but enough to need a part 2

“Derek? Wha-“

“I need to stay here tonight.” He kept his head down as he shuffled his way through the door, water drops flowing off his hair.

“Is everything okay? Where’s Addison?” The look Derek gave you was almost enough to answer every question that was running through your head. You stood silently as he threw his duffel bag on the couch, his soaked jacket following. He plopped down in the arm chair, palms rubbing his face.

“I’ll get you some hot cocoa to warm up.”

“No don’t I’m fine.”

Your eyebrow raised at his poor attempt in deterring your concern.

“Oh god you look like mom.” Derek chuckled, lighting the heaviness in the room.

“What happened with Addison Derek? Why are you here?”

His face dropped once more almost immediately. The change drawing regret straight out of your core. “I found her sleeping with Sloan.”

“Mark!?” Hearing the most unexpected name come out your stomach churned in a way that made you swear you were about to hurl. The barriers around your emotions all crumbling at once.

“Are we really surprised.” Derek sighed, flattening himself out onto the couch.

“I mean? Yes? No? I don’t.. I mean he’s your best friend?” Surely it wasn’t out of character for Marks sexual.. tendencies to say the least. But still there was a part of you that couldn’t believe he’d sleep with the wife of the man he practically called a brother. Especially after growing so close to him in the past months. You shared everything together and nothing that was said or done could’ve prepared you for this. Your heart ached more then it ever did before, both for Derek but also yourself. Mark was your first, and you had naively convinced yourself he’d be the last. And though you wanted more than anything to curl up in a ball on the floor with Derek and sob your eyes out until the numb feeling that soared through your nerve endings disappeared, Derek didn’t know anything about you and Mark, and you sure as hell weren’t about to have this be the time he finds out. It took more then you thought you had in you to conceal your emotions. Fighting back the familiar sting of tears became a war for the first time, but you stood your ground against it. Sure you and Mark hadn’t taken the time to talk about making things exclusive, but really you didn’t think you needed to. What you felt with Mark was enough to flood your senses full, not able to even consider someone else entering the picture.

And maybe you were stupid to think he felt the same.

It felt futile to hide the burn in your chest, knowing it was evident in your face. But still you tried to mask your feelings, hoping it would be seen as nothing but compassion towards your brother. You’d drag the sun out by your bare hands to bring sunshine after a life of darkness if it meant the best for Derek.

“Yeah well obviously that doesn’t mean much.” The scene of Derek face down on the couch with his arms dangling at weird angles was almost comical enough to bring you out of your anger. In a sad attempt to stifle your laugh, a small giggle escaped your lips. Derek just looked up from his resting spot and gave you the warmest smile you’ve seen from him all night, the picture perfect resemblance of a child.

“Derek I don’t-“ You were cut off mid sentence by the ringing of Dereks phone. He was hesitant to pick it up, most likely praying to himself it wasn’t the two talks of the night.

“Hold that thought I have to take this.” He cleared his throat before answering the phone, his eyebrows stiffening. “Hi Richard, sorry for emailing so late..” Was all you caught as he stepped out of the room.

The anticipation building in you was almost enough to drive you mad. Derek had been on the phone for ten minutes now and you weren’t able to hear any of it. You had began your (what felt like at least) 100th lap around the room, as Derek finally stepped back in. The suspense in the room falling instantly as his demeanor brought nothing but a strange joy.

“Richard Webber from Seattle Grace just called.”

“Okay..?” You sat down on the couch, Derek following.

“He found us both a job, very well pay, I’d be head of neuro, and you’ll be a trauma attending ! It’s perfect! He said he could even throw in a sign on bonus for you for the sudden notice! We start Monday.”

“At Seattle Grace?”

“Well obviously.”

“Derek? Are you insane? Like are you actually going insane because if you are I can understand why.”

“Am I.. Are you going insane? Y/n this is the perfect job opportunity! It’s everything you’ve worked for come on!”

There was a shared silence between the two of you, you each studying the other trying to feel out the mix of emotions you both had been throwing out into the room. Derek looked at you with eyes of an insane man, his lips a curl of typical mischief.

“Derek. This job is in Seattle. Seattle Washington! We live in New York! You can not bring in a life changing job, and move, that I have to do in two days and expect me to jump at it! I know you want to get away from Addison right now but Seattle seriously? Don’t you think that’s taking it a little far?”

“Yes! That’s the point. Come with me or don’t but you’ll sure as hell look idiotic for not.” You let out a sigh at his words, your jaw tensing.

“Derek we’re talking about both of our whole lives right now. Our family is here, our homes, hell our jobs!”

~

“Y/n! welcome to Seattle Grace. I know the offer was a short notice but I appreciate you coming.” Richard Webber, the chief of Seattle Grace, greeted you at the entrance. A great smile plastered across his face as he reached out to shake your hand.

“Of course Richard. Thank you for the offer. I know you wanted me out sooner but like I told Derek, it was insane for me to do the move in two days. So I really do appreciate the exception, it was more than generous of you.” You smiled, accepting the greeting.

“Oh i know it was. But anything for an old friend’s family. And it would be great to have another genius on hand.”

“Old friend?”

“Oh yes, Dr. Shepherd and I have worked on a few cases together in the past. I’ve spent my fair share of time in New York.” Richard spoke as he began to walk through the hospital, his hand reaching behind him to motion for you to follow. “Now I know Derek has been working here for a week now, and could show you around, but I’m going to go ahead and assign you an intern for the day. Someone to show you around and have do all the unnecessary paperwork for you.”

“Oh no Dr. Webber, no need to do that. You’ve already accommodated so much around me. Surely I can find my way around today.”

“Absolutely no need for that Dr. Shepherd. Let me make the day easier for you please.” You smiled at Richard and nodded, fully appreciating the gesture. He nodded and turned around, his finger pointing to a shorter woman across the room at the nurses station.

“Bailey!” The woman whipped her head around, eyebrows raised and an unfazed expression spread on her face. She began walking towards you and Richard, five other doctors following her lead almost immediately. You giggled to yourself as they all looked like a scene of baby ducks following their mom; though these baby ducks did look particularly tired and worn.

“Can you give me one of your children please. I need someone to be with Dr. Shepherd for the day while she settles in. You know like show her around yada yada.”

“Karev go.” Dr. Bailey ordered turning around and beginning to walk back to what she was doing.

“Me? But I’ve got-“ One of the doctors that had been following Bailey began saying, walking backwards to keep up with her in order to plea.

“Karev. GO.”

He stood in the middle of the room, arms up in defeat. You almost felt bad for him until he turned to face you, eyes narrowed and lips pursed as if this was somehow your fault.

“Come on lets get this over with.” He snarled while walking back towards you.

“Hey don’t be pissed at me, I sure as hell didn’t want you to be the one showing me around.” Karev stopped to take a good look at you, almost completely dumbfounded after your response. He scanned your face, either trying to decide who you were to talk to him like that, or the opposite of the spectrum and he was just trying to hide his admiration.

Your grand hospital tour was finally coming to an end after almost two hours. Alex had taken the time to show you each wing, introduce you to each head of department, and even showed you the vending machines that are least likely to scam you. At first he had seemed like a nightmare to be around, almost like a brooding angsty teenager who didn’t like anyone, but after warming up to him (or maybe him warming up to you?) Alex actually seemed more then tolerable. He made you laugh more then you have in awhile. His presence lighting you more than you’ve felt since your first night with Mark, which in all honesty bewildered you more then you imagined. Questioning yourself on how, or why you had become so comfortable around Alex in such little of time.

Honestly he felt like Mark felt. But for some sick reason, that maybe was just a play on your emotions, the man you had just met three hours ago made you feel lighter then Mark had in 20 years. He felt like a flow of fresh rain water after a drought, cleansing you of all toxins and slowly making you new. He was rain and you were the starved flower.

Yet Mark felt like the water saved from the last rain. Still coursing through your veins and settling into your heart and soul. Something that once kept you alive, was once your everything, now something you couldn’t get out of your system without feeling like you were sucked dry, moments away from an inevitable end.

It hadn’t quite struck you how much the Mark situation had hit you before now. Really you hadn’t had time to feel how the situation made you feel. The thought of butterflies returning to you uncovered a deep empty void that was quick to cover your senses.

The sudden wave of emotions hit you hard, but still you tried to remain as unaffected by it as possible. Though you knew you had done quite the shitty job of that after you caught Alex glancing at you with concern from the corner of your eye.

“So,” he coughed, obviously trying to diffuse the odd tension that had began. “What department do you plan to work in after residency?”

“Well actually I’m a trauma attending.”

“Attending? You look younger than me!”

“Well I am 24.” You giggled at the widened eyes of Alex, his jaw practically on the floor.

“24!?”

“Yep! Baby of the family.”

“Baby of the entire hospital! I mean how’d you even get here?”

“Well Dr. Karev that is a long story we could discuss over coffee tomorrow morning.” It was out your mouth before you could even sit to consider it. Alex looked taken aback for a moment, obviously not expecting that just as much as you were.

“Deal.” Alex warmly smiled, his eyes gleaming with something more than before.

okay hii!!! this req is so late im so sorry😭 also this isnt the og post but i cant find that one so I am using this!!! im gonna be honest ive wrote this little by little over the past few months so i really hope its all somewhat cohesive ????? idk atleast readable but im also crossing my fingers that this is okay cause its my first req :)

so without being said i hope you guys enjoyed and i will be making a part two trust 🙏🏻

and listen i know being 24 and being an attending is like damn near impossible but its greys. there was literally a unfazed bazooka in a guys chest.

[stylespresleyhearted]

CCG — NEW BEGINNINGS

masterlist can be found here

note: @blainesebastian only has herself to blame for allowing me to spiral in the dm’s. dad! austin blurb all the way at the bottom based on ccg universe hope you don’t mind mccall. 😭🥹🫶🏻

-

hollywoodreporter Divorce rumors continue to swirl as Austin Butler is spotted catching a Broadway play with younger actress Kaia Gerber.

view all comments

butlerfam This means nothing. He is allowed to have female friends.

fan13 I’m scared but it might be true even @jillian.mua unfollowed him

butlerfam She unfollowed everyone who didn’t follow her back not just him.

hater101 i always knew she wasn’t the one for him lmaooo good for you austin! kaia is way prettier!

ccgupdates We don’t know anything and we should focus on being respectful, for their sake and especially Luci’s.

people Austin Butler and @coffeegirl spotted running errands in Los Angeles separately. Despite them being in the same city no photos of the two of them have been captured and divorce rumors continue building. This marks the first time she is spotted publicly in two months. Their reps refused to comment.

view all comments

fan23 cmon @people be better than this. i expect this shit from dailymail but not ya’ll

user12 PSA: husbands and wives DO NOT have to do everything together.

hater101 okay but he had a date w a model ten years his junior who is way prettier lol they’re so over

fan12 Starting to believe it’s true because why wouldn’t they just deny the rumors?

fan13 she looks like she’s crying

fan24 yeah looks like it might be true … i’ll never forgive austin if it is she’s perfect for him and that means he left his family for a nepo baby

hater2 Finally I was tired of her using him for fame he is going to be so much better off with Kaia she actually is on his level

liked by ashleybee, coffeegirl, and 98267 others

austinbutler ✈️

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ashleybee Favorite girl always ❤️‍🔥

fan23 does this mean he got custody

fan13 THEY AREN’T DIVORCED 🙄

user11 lmao ok that’s why he’s all over kaia gerber and if they were still together he would have posted @coffeegirl too but he didn’t and he liked kaia’s recent ig post

fan13 yeah bc they’re friends thats it

user11 they were spotted hanging out alone again on deuxmoi’s sunday spotted

hater101 @coffeegirl he left you so now all you can do is like his posts 🤣

austinbutler has disabled comments

tmz BREAKING NEWS: @coffeegirl spotted with mystery man in New York City confirming divorce rumors with Austin Butler.

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hater101 lmaooo what a slut

butlerfam You’re ridiculous. You praise Austin for being seen with a model and bring her down for being seen with a friend.

user13 that doesn’t look like a friendly touch

fan43 I’m so disappointed. No photo of her for three months and when we finally do get one she’s with another man.

ccgupdates She’s been hiding from the public, she’s obviously going through something. And that’s a co-worker, Ronald, he’s worked with her on multiple projects.

user41 isn’t that guy ronald someone austin hates bc he’s always overly friendly w her??? and she allows this ???

liked by fan11, fan12, and 714 others

austinupdates At tonight’s screening Austin talked about how his daughter Luci changed his life positively in every way possible. He didn’t mention his wife.

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ccgupdates That last sentence is so unnecessary.

fan13 he usually always thanks her though

butlerfamily In the past seven months she’s only been seen publicly twice. It’s obvious she doesn’t want attention right now for some reason and maybe he’s respecting that.

fan13 what could possibly be the reason? why the 360 all of a sudden?

hater101 he left her and she can’t accept that

liked by hater1, hater2, and 59176 others

dailymail After a decade together it seems Austin and his wife have divorced. He is seen solo with their daughter, Luci, once again. It has been nine months since the couple have been photographed together and @coffeegirl has chosen to deal with it privately, according to sources as she has only been seen publicly twice this past year.

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fan14 I refuse to believe it until it comes directly from them.

ccgupdates That is not confirmation.

hater101 all these weirdos in denial still GTFO IT

user12 I am so heartbroken. I thought they were forever.

austinupdates All we can do now is respect their privacy and support them. I’m sure Luci remains their top priority.

jillian.mua You lot are ridiculous.

coffeegirl and austinbutler posted

austinbutler and coffeegirl I took some time for myself to ensure the safe arrival of our baby boy. Our family has never been happier than now for the next chapter in our lives.

I understand this can be hard for some to process. Sending you all love.

view all comments

ccgfan OH MY GOD IM SO HAPPY ??!! 🥹🥹❤️❤️ CONGRATS !

jillian.mua I beg you guys to never stop collaborating 🫶🏻

ashleytisdale LOL YES! Love you guys!

ashleybee Having you in Arizona while you were growing the little bean was magical. We miss you already. I love you guys, thank you for making me an auntie again. I’m proud of you, Austin, and I see Mom in those little angels. 🪽 

austinbutler I love you Ash ❤️

coffeegirl All your love and support was essential, thank you. Luci and baby boy are begging to call tonight.

tomhardy Congratulations 🎉❤️

florencepugh Going to do another movie with you for some more baby time 👀💗

jodiecomer Fuck yes, so much love ❣️

pollybennett So happy for your family! Real ones always knew the thought of you divorcing was absurd 😉

~ comment liked by austinbutler and 17891 others 

butlerfamily I knew it was all bullshit. Their love is true. They’ve stated they only wanted one child previously so I wonder if this was a surprise or plan, but whatever it was, I’m so happy for their family.

coffeegirl Surprise LOL 😂🫶🏻 but we appreciate the constant support from your page. We see your love ❤️

blainesebastian HAHA take that haters!!

-

She lays her feet on his lap, head thrown back in exhaustion and finally content to have some relief. She’d been swelling all day and her skin felt tight.

“What bullshit,” Austin says, pausing his ministrations to glare at the TV. She wiggles her toes to get him to continue, sighing contently when he does so.

She thinks of the past year and the rumors that have swirled. At first it began small as fandom drama and as time went on media outlets began to pick up on her absence as well. She and Austin were aware that there’d be some push back but it never occurred to her the length people would go to proving they weren’t together and had both seemingly moved on.

Arizona had been her safe haven. She was thankful for Ashley being willing to watch Luci at any time, for Austin’s grandparents who cooked her favorite foods every single day, and his father and step-mom who bought her body pillows and slippers and anything she may need to feel better.

She thinks of Austin and what he must have had to face bouncing back and forth between Los Angeles and New York and Arizona to keep her happy and relaxed. She hadn’t faced the paparazzi or the fans but he had multiple times and he remained patient and understanding of her needing to grow their baby away from the public eye.

Peeking an eye open, she finds him still glaring at the TV. She’s unsure why they’re even watching but she’s too lazy to reach for the control. He’s got on his grey sweatpants, soft against the skin of her legs, and white T-Shirt with his thin gold chain. She smiles, feeling love and gratitude and disbelief swell in her chest that this was her life, this wonderful man was her husband, and they were going to welcome another baby together.

It may not have been planned but it was a happy occasion all the same.

She sits up, planting a big kiss against his cheek. Austin turns, eyes crinkled with his smile.

“What was that for?” He plants his own kiss on her forehead.

She shrugs, “Just felt like it.” Her eyes are welling with tears and she’s sure if she begins expressing her gratitude to him the waterworks would fall. She hopes he knows though, hopes he can feel it radiating off her.

She thinks he must, because he pulls her in closer with an arm around her shoulder, tucking her face into his neck. She presses another kiss to his collarbone as he places his other hand against her belly. Immediately there’s a kick.

She grunts. “He always knows when it’s you.” When Austin had to travel it’s like their baby boy knew and he wasn’t happy, he’d begin spinning and fluttering in what she assumed was his version of a tantrum.

“Mom-eeee.” Luci joins them, pointing to the TV where her face is gracing them. She grimaces at the photo chosen and Austin laughs, kissing her hair. “Say hi to brother.” Luci falls to her mom’s lap to press a kiss on the belly, right above Austin’s hand, and begins mumbling secrets. She feels more fluttering in her belly and by Austin’s smile she’s sure he felt it too.

“I love you.” She says, peering up to him. He hums, leaning down to steal a kiss.

[cheolhub]

YOUR MINE AND I TAKE CARE OF WHAT BELONGS TO ME + CHEOL

Also happy cheolhubversary <333 IM NOT YET DONE READING UR POST i just ran as fast as i could here when yew said ure only taking the first 5-10 reqs hajdjdjsk

12:37 a.m. — choi seungcheol

prompt. “you’re mine and i take care of what belongs to me.”

wc. ~1.4k

warnings. established relationship, frat boy!cheol, cheeky!reader, slight possessiveness, choking, pet names [baby, angel], doggy style? (idk, it’s against the door 😅) dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie – MINORS DNI 18+

note. ok so ik i said my limit was 1k for these drabbles, but plz understand i can’t hold back when it comes to cheol. ANYWAY!! kai <3 thank u for sending an ask !! ^^ i know this is kinda… meh,, but i hope u enjoy it a little bit anyway  >< (def not proofread… sorry)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ join the birthday bash!  ࿐ྂ

seungcheol dragging you through a sea of sweaty bodies was the last thing you wanted. 

well, no actually… it’s exactly what you wanted. your plan worked out just the way you knew it would. 

your attempts to get cheol’s attention at the start of the night proved to be futile as he had to make sure tonight’s party was in order. “the frat might get suspended if another one of our parties gets out of control,” he’d said. you could care less about the frat. not with the way your panties were glued to your needy, needy core. “i just gotta make sure everything is okay. just mingle for a bit, ‘kay?”

and you definitely weren’t the happiest when he told you to wait till the night was over, so you did what you do best. 

piss him the fuck off.

by the time the party was in full swing, you’d asked at least 3 of seungcheol’s frat brothers the same question. “this party is so lame,” you’d said through a sad sigh. “can you do something for me?” the question always came out so…suggestively. it was obvious you were plotting something and looking for someone to do the dirty work.

but soonyoung was too drunk to comprehend your words and wonwoo knew the second you’d walked up to him with a frown on your face. he said he’s not getting in between you and seungcheol after the last time he fell for your antics. 

but vernon… vernon was the perfect prospect. he would get the job done perfectly. 

“nonnie,” you pouted, much too pretty for his liking. “will you do me a favor?”

and vernon, ever the sweet angel, replied with, “anything. what’s up?”

you leaned in and ghosted your lips over the shell of his ear, “will you tell cheol that this party fucking sucks?” you felt his body vibrate against yours as he let out a soft laugh. “and tell him that if he doesn’t come fuck me, i’ll find someone that will.”

vernon pulled back and wearily raised an eyebrow at you.

“i’m not actually going to,” you explained through a laugh. “but if i tell him, he’ll know i'm bluffing. but if you tell him while also mentioning you heard this from wonwoo and soonyoung, then… you know. i get what i want and everyone’s happy.” you corrected yourself, “well, i’ll be happy.” 

the thing you love the most about vernon is he doesn’t ask very many questions. you could ask him to help you bury a body and he probably wouldn’t even bat an eye, just do as you ask with a nod and a careless shrug.

he went off and did exactly that. and you didn’t regret making him do it at all.

how could you when seungcheol was seething, practically shoving everyone out of his way to find you after hearing that you needed someone at this shitty party to fuck you? you’ll have to find the loose-lipped vernon later and thank him for relaying the rumor to your busy boyfriend.

honestly, you weren’t expecting him to drop everything– to stop running the party which was the whole reason he left you hanging in the first place– just to pull you into his room, wrap his hand around your throat, and slam you against the door. 

“you’re a little slut,” he chuckles, obviously amused. you smile back at him cheekily, eyes glazing over. “you think i don’t know what you’re up to?”

“what ever do you mean, cheollie?” you ask innocently, still smiling like a devil in disguise.

he leans in, lips ghosting over yours as he asks, “i mean, you really think anyone at this party can fuck you like i do? make you cum like i can?” 

his voice is low and hushed and it’s making your head spin. even over the booming music from outside his door, all you can hear is your heart pounding in your ears and his slight pants.

“you’re mine.” he says without a shadow of a doubt. “and i take care of what belongs to me. got that?”

you don’t have a chance to reply when he’s tightening his grip around your throat and smashing his lips against yours. he laughs against your mouth when you let out a choked moan into his, easing his hold on you. 

his free hand finds its way under your skirt, rubbing your cunt through your embarrassingly wet panties. seungcheol moans when he feels it. the lace growing wetter with every movement.

he pulls back, observing your glassy eyes and the way your wet, swollen lips part to emit a whine. his cock can’t help but twitch under the confinement of his jeans. “don’t even need me to prep you, do you, baby?” he breathily asks. “you’re soaking my hand through your panties, poor thing.”

you shake your head fervently, “just need you inside of me. please.”

“i know you do, such a needy baby. going around and telling everyone how you need someone to fuck you.” he coos, fingers catching your clit and rubbing into the sensitive clothed bud. your hands grasp at the hem of his shirt, trying to gyrate your hips for more, but you fail miserably. “impatient, too.” he hums. 

“fuck, cheol, please!” you whine desperately. 

he groans, ripping his hands away from you entirely before spinning you around and pressing your front against the door. you softly gasp as your cheek smooshes against the wooden door.

you hear the clanking of his belt and the zip of his zipper and you can barely contain your excitement. you flatten your palms on the door, arching your back and wiggling your ass in front of him.

he grunts at the sight, flipping your dress up and pulling your panties to the side. he slots his heavy tip between your lips and runs it through your drenched folds.

a mewl erupts in your chest when you finally feel the fat head of his cock slip into you, stretching you open as he pushes himself deeper and deeper till he’s fully sheathed inside of you. he grazes right against your spongy spot and it has your hands clawing at the door. 

seungcheol lets you adjust to the sheer size of him for all but a minute before he’s pulling out and thrusting back into you. 

and when his arm wraps around your middle, fingers diligently rubbing into your clit, you can’t hold the cry back. his name leaves your mouth rather loudly and you’re starting to feel grateful for the rambunctious party. 

his laughs airly, “this what you wanted, baby? wanted to get fucked, yeah?”

pained pleasure shoots through your body with every thrust, every bump to your cervix, every dirty word he grunts into the hot room, and it feels fucking fantastic. you clench around him, velvet walls squeezing him tight as if they’re trying to mold to the shape of him. 

“cheol!” is the only coherent thing that you can get out as his balls lewdly and rapidly slap against your cunt. 

“getting close? you ‘bout ready to cum for me?” he groans, mercilessly driving into you. you probably can’t hear him over the sounds of your moans, so he just rubs circles deeper into your clit, feeling you clamp around his cock for the nth time. 

you sob, a coil in your tummy getting tighter and tighter before you jerk. your walls flutter and pulse around him as you let go, creaming his dick just like you’ve wanted to all night long. you practically go limp in his arms, orgasm turning your entire body to jelly. 

he groans, both of his arms now around your middle as he uses you till he reaches his own high. he’s moaning out your name as he shoots his load into your battered cunt, his warmth overflowing inside of you. 

and when he draws out of you, still panting and on a high, he pulls your panties back over your cunt and stands you up straight.

you look breathless and dazed and he can’t help but grin at you.  

“now why don’t we go back downstairs and enjoy the lame party?”

© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.

[concreteangel92]

Do you want to be a good girl for me?

Noah Sebastian x fem!reader

TW: mentions of dom/sub relationships, getting turned on? Honestly nothing is too graphic here

A/N: So I had this idea in my head today after wondering how the conversation would go with Noah about him being a dom while you’re in the early dating stages.

This has definitely been inspired by watching him spanking the air during IDWT$ the other day which I have yet to recover from 🥵

I haven’t wrote any type of fanfiction in about 7/8 years! I used to write a lot when I was younger but stopped due to adult life haha so I do feel incredibly rusty but Noah and reading everyone else’s stories on here over the last few months has definitely inspired me but please be kind as it’s been so long 😂

I am half way through a smut filled Noah one shot atm so hopefully if this goes well then I’ll be posting that soon!

Masterlist

• So far you were on date number 3 with the Noah Sebastian Davis.

• Tonight was a home cooked dinner and movie night at yours

• Currently sitting together on the sofa, chatting after dinner

• You had both agreed to take things slow-ish to begin with so you could really get to know each other

• Noah being aware that you were a fan of the band prior to these dates

• The most you guys had done so far was holding hands, cuddling and a lot of kissing

• Now you know there is more to a relationship then sex but let’s be honest, it’s pretty important and it’s important to be compatible

• You hadn’t mentioned anything to Noah about the kinks or kind of relationships that you were into but it was definitely the time to see if things could progress

• “so I feel these dates have gone really well and that we appear to be really compatible”

• “so do I”

• “but there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you…”

* Noah would definitely be more intrigued when he sees a small blush forming

• “ask away”

• Noah, as ever, would be very collected with a calm expression that you can’t read

• “Umm, well the thing is….I just wondered….”

• “Don’t be shy y/n, if the blush on your cheeks is anything to go by then I can only assume it’s more of a private question?”

• Noah’s eyes never leaving your face and of course he would have a small smirk on his lips

• “right ok….so obviously you know I’ve been a fan of the band for a while before this….so I’ve seen certain videos online of you performing….and….and seeing the way you present yourself or the way you do certain things…”

• “What things?”

• Noah interrupting with an even bigger smirk, clearly catching on to where the conversation was headed

• You would definitely be blushing a bright shade of red at this point and trying not to do your nervous laugh and you most certainly can’t look him in the eyes

• “The videos of you spanking the air and the way you come across….I just have to ask….are you really the dom that you appear to be?”

• That whole sentence would have been said extremely quickly

• You would feel the need to ‘shy away’ from him after being so bold, eyes looking down at your lap

• Until you feel his fingers brushing your hair off your shoulder

• “why? Do you want to be a good girl for me?”

• You would instantly feel your tummy do a flip and have an instant ache in between your legs

• The latter would have you squirming ever so slightly on the spot and clenching your thighs together

• Something Noah of course does not miss

• “ your reaction just then tells me everything I need to know about you”

• You’d look at him with big eyes, a knowing smile on your face

• “I just needed to make sure that we were compatible in that area, most guys I’ve met aren’t into what I am”

• Noah would be tracing small patterns on your neck, his intense gaze never leaving yours

• “We can discuss what we like or don’t like, make sure that there is a safe word or a colour system in place but I do think we are going to be more then compatible”

• The ache would start to become very prominent to you at this point

• “Just to warn you, I’m not always very well behaved”

• You stare into his eyes, heart rate accelerating and you most certainly had a wet spot on your underwear at this stage

• “Good. Because I love my subs to have a bit of bite to them”

• You would unconsciously move closer to him while his hand gently wraps around the back of your neck

• “Can we just skip the movie now please?”

• Noah also moving closer “please what?”

• “please sir”

• “there’s my good girl”

• The kiss that happens after this would be messy and desperate and a small indication of what was to come

• The film definitely being forgotten about for the rest of the evening

[leroiestmortvivelareine]

On the corner - Chapter 3

Wymack meets Andrew when he's still a kid.

(Trigger Warning - see intro post)

(all chapters)

---------------------------------

The man went into the boy’s room, as he had done a hundred times before. As he had done a hundred times before, he stripped off and bent down to the bed.

Except this time was different. This time a piercing spotlight flooded the room, along with half a dozen voices shouting for him to stop, it was the police, a room full of police, and somehow Coach was with them, tailing behind them grim and unsmiling, and when he caught the kid’s eye he gave him a brief nod, as though fulfilling his end of a promise the boy hadn’t known was made. Then the cops brought out their handcuffs and suddenly the tall terrifying monster was a broken terrified wreck, gibbering with fear as they led him away.

Coach came to stand in front of the kid.

"You," said Drew.

"I told you," Coach smiled. "You’re not alone."

Some of the cops and an on-call social worker stay in the kid's room to interview him. Others have taken the wife into the kitchen. The other, older foster kids aren't home, but the house still feels full of people. An officer holds the door open for Coach.

The kid looks up apprehensively. "Can he stay?"

The social worker, Valerie, glances enquiringly at Coach, who shrugs.

The senior officer introduces himself to Drew, speaking in a quiet and respectful tone. "Can you tell us what happened?"

Coach gives Drew a brief smile. "It’s ok. Just tell them like you told me. They all saw him come for you tonight. They know you’re not lying."

They ask him about it - how often it happened, when it started, when was the last time. Facts and figures as though it was sport stats or something, listening seriously while they write it all down.

It gets difficult again when they ask about his foster-mother.

Drew is silent for a while, then blurts out, his eyes on Coach:

"She’s just as bad. She lets him in."

In another sudden rush he adds: "She enjoys it. She sends him in to punish me."

They take notes until they have enough to go on with, then the officer puts his book away with a supportive smile. "Thanks Drew. You did great."

He gets to his feet. "So how do you know Coach?"

The kid opens his mouth, then closes it again.

Coach says easily: "We know each other from around the neighbourhood. He’s interested in my team."

Valerie half smiles at this. "Couldn’t find an excuse to get away, huh."

The cops grin a bit too. It's a small town, and Coach’s passion for sport is obviously an old joke.

Another cop sticks his head into the bedroom.

"Ambulance is here. We’ll get him checked out just to be sure."

"Ok, good."

"They’ll probably need to do a thorough check," Coach murmurs in an undertone. "You understand? Just let them do their job, ok? I’ll be here when you’re done."

Drew looks worried but nods tensely.

"If you need to distract yourself, look around the ambulance and try to commit all the details you see to memory. You can give me the list later."

"Ok." The boy leaves with the police.

Coach stands up, peering through the doorway to the kitchen. "Are they charging her too?"

Valerie shrugs. "Not sure. But it’s not safe for him to stay here. She’s barely coherent."

"He won’t have to come back here, will he?"

"We’ll make sure he doesn’t."

"He doesn’t seem to have much stuff." Coach glances around. "Maybe we should pack it up." He pulls down a suitcase from a shelf and begins stuffing items into it. There's not enough room for the clothes.

"Can you see if there are some trash bags in the kitchen?" he asks Valerie before she could offer a half-hearted protest. Besides, he doesn't want to go out there. He doesn't trust what he’ll do if he sees that woman.

Valerie returns with a handful of black bags and they stuff the meagre collection of clothes into them.

A battered duffle and two plastic bags. Coach can't believe this is a child’s life.

"Anything that looks like his in the den?"

"No. I think you should leave it at that now."

The paramedic returns with the kid in tow. "He’s fine. A decent feed wouldn’t hurt."

Drew sits down beside Coach.

"How you holding up, kid?"

The boy sends an apprehensive glance towards the kitchen.

"They can’t trouble you any more." Coach is unhappily aware this won't fix the next 'they' he’ll have to deal with. "That asshole will never bother anyone again."

"He was crying." Drew sounds unbelieving.

"Cops probably painted a picture of what prison will be like. Like I said, everyone hates them."

"Coach? How did you know to get here in time?"

"You told me, kid. You told me what he was going to do. The time, the address on your ID." He smiles encouragingly. "You did one of the smartest things a person can do. You asked for help. You trusted your instincts and that takes courage. I’m proud of you."

It’s not hard to imagine those words have been in short supply during his life, but the boy’s expression doesn’t change. He doesn’t take his eyes off Coach, though.

"What’s going to happen now?"

The social worker answers. "We’ll take you into protective custody for tonight. They'll take more formal statements tomorrow."

Drew freaks. "You mean lock me up? Where he is?"

"Hey." Coach’s voice is reassuring. "You’d be kept separate. It’s the safest place in town. You’ll be completely surrounded by cops."

"No!"

"It's too late tonight to organise an alternative. No one’s saying you’ve done anything wrong. It’s just... there isn’t anywhere else…"

"Can’t I stay with you?"

Coach is at a loss. He turns to Valerie with a question on his face, not sure if the question is Can he? or Can you explain to him why not?

She is silent a moment, then gets up to find her colleagues.

The kid turns to Coach, his eyes desperate.

"I can’t be locked up."

"Well, you can’t stay here. And I’m by myself, you understand. I don’t exactly represent a family home."

"What about your wife?"

Coach’s eyes lower. "My wife died many years ago."

For some reason the kid finds this more reassuring, not less. His foster-mother must have been a piece of work. Or maybe in the kid's mind betraying him to a monster is worse than a monster simply being itself.

Coach goes on, gently: "Seriously, would you want to be alone with a strange man after all this?"

Drew nods. "If it’s you. I’ve been in three other places before this. I always know the ones who are going to be a problem."

Hearing this makes Coach feel sick.

"They don’t just let random strangers take abused kids."

The kid made a face. "Yeah, their due diligence is fantastic. Anyway, they know you, don’t they? Didn’t you say the police work with you, with runaways and whatever? I mean, you got the cops to come here."

"I got them to come here because I told them I was going to investigate an abuse allegation, and if it turned out to be true I would be breaking in and using my firearm against civilians." Coach shrugs. "Like you said, they know me."

Drew’s mouth falls open, but he manages to turn it into a wry smile. "So they knew you were joking."

Coach just looks at him. The smile vanishes. "You weren't."

Valerie reappears at that moment, swinging tiredly in the doorway. "It’s ok with us, Coach. You’re certified for working with kids, and the damn night’s almost over anyway."

She turns to Drew. "You sure you want to go with him?"

The boy nods, then says aloud: "Yes. I do."

Coach gives him a frustrated look.

Drew insists: "Didn’t you say that trusting my instincts and asking for help is smart?"

Coach grumbles, but he knows he’s lost.

"Ok then. Bring him in tomorrow morning, we’ll sort everything out," Valerie added.

"Sure."

—

(< prev , next >)

(all chapters)

[somanyratsinthewalls]

omg I am a SUCKER for the one bed trope 😭 with sanji, please? 🙏🏼

congrats on 300 followers!! 🎉 you deserve it all and more! 💕

S A M E ! I'm such a loser it's my FAVORITE TROPE!

Pairing: Sanji x afab!reader

WC: 15000

Prompt: "We aren't sharing a bed. I'll sleep on the floor."

Pairing: Sanji x Afab!Reader

Prompt: “We aren’t sharing a bed. I’ll sleep on the floor.” 

— — 

*wheeze*

“No, no please! Tell me again, HOW exactly you beat that sea king?” You laugh out while you clutch your beer to your chest on your barstool. 

“See this? It’s a very special exploding star! And you just-“ Usopp grabs a small bundle out of his satchel and moves to show you while you wipe tears from your eyes. 

“Wait I thought I slammed the thing and we ate it for dinner last night?” Your sweet, naive captain chimes in as he over hears your conversation with sniper at the end of the bar. 

“No, you’re remembering it wrong!” Usopp crosses his arms over his chest and huffs. You take another sip of your drink and snort. Another voice booms from the other end of the bar. 

“You had the rest of the beast for lunch, and yes, Luffy punched it in the face.” Sanji slurped the rest of his red wine and placed his glass on the bar top. 

“Well, if your stomach isn’t growling, we have our answer then?” You held back your giggles over the top of your beer glass as you looked at Usopp. 

The rest of your crew surrounding you at the bar laughed. 

— — 

“You’re a fucking idiot you want to put Maldon salt in an apple pie?! Get off your fucking high horse!” You slurred your words as your pointed your beer bottle in Sanji’s chest.

“Mon cherie, I am not arguing with you tonight about the integrity of a pie crust.” Sanji smiles as he takes your hand on your beer in his and lowers it back down to the bar at your side. The rest of your crew had retreated to their rooms at the inn you had all chosen to stay at for the night… minus you, Sanji and Zoro. 

“Holy shit… you guys are like… so boring?… woah…” Zoro claimed from his horizontal position on several barstools next to yours. You and Sanji were drawn out of your conversation and looked down at the blacked out swordsman. 

“We should leave him here, right?” You smirked up at the blonde man in front of you. 

“Obviously.” Sanji smiled as he reached out to grab your hand and helped you down from your tall bar stool. He leads you towards the innkeeper’s desk with your hand still in his. 

“We’re part of the Straw Hats. We’d like our room keys, please.” Sanji politely says to the innkeeper. 

The innkeeper shuffles through a large, leather bound book of reservations and stops on a certain page. “I-..I’m sorry sir bit it seems we only have one room left available.” The nervous innkeeper sputters out, afraid to offend a group of such powerful pirates. 

“What? You’re telling me that you can’t-“ Sanji begins to become upset. 

“That’s fine.” You interject. “No need to make a fuss.” You assumed it would be a typical room with twin beds and a couch. You and Sanji could sleep easily and if Zoro got his shit together he could end up on the sofa. You didn’t feel like fighting an elderly innkeeper in order just to have a private room to yourself. You were a pirate, there were much bigger issues in the grand scheme of things. 

The innkeeper gave you a thankful smile and gave you the key to your room. You and Sanji head up the wooden stairs and arrive at the door of your room. Number 17. You turn the key in the lock and enter the candle lit hotel room. To your dismay there was one queen sized bed and no other large furniture in the room other than a bear skin rug. 

You and Sanji stood in the doorway of your newly minted hotel room. 

“Shit.” The both of you said together. 

“We aren’t sharing a bed. I’ll sleep on the floor.” Sanji immediately retorts as he enters the room and begins stripping himself of his suit jacket. He takes it off and drapes it over the chair in the entryway of the room.

“Oh…. Uh… Ok…. I’ll get ready for bed then…” You head into the ensuite bathroom and prepare yourself for bed. You strip yourself to your panties, and take off your bra underneath your shirt after washing your face and brushing your teeth. After getting ready for bed, you exit the bathroom and quickly slide your body under the covers of the bed. Sanji awkwardly and wordlessly slides past you into the bathroom and you hear the shower start to run. 

In the darkness of of the bedroom you lay back on the bed. You were just a bit drunk, you felt your head buzz as it hit the softness of your pillow. You listened to the sounds of the shower and couldn’t help but think about how close Sanji was to you, completely naked. Your mind wandered… You thought about how his blonde hair might plaster his forehead under the shower stream… you thought about how the soap would foam and drip down his toned abs… You felt yourself start to become wet… you slipped off your panties and discarded them somewhere underneath the covers. 

Your right hand slid under the sheets and crept towards your cunt. Your delicate fingers began to circle your clit just the way you know you like and you breathed out in pleasure. You find yourself becoming lost in the pleasure when you hear the bathroom door swing open. 

“Y/n?” Sanji emerged from the bathroom clad in just a towel wrapped around his waist. 

“Oh! Sanji! Sorry I was… distracted….” You curl the covers up under your chin. 

Sanji stands at the foot of the bed, seemingly assessing the situation in front of him. 

“Y/n… were you… touching yourself?” Sanji cocks his head and asks you while standing over you. 

“I… I was…” You sheepishly looked down at the top of the comforter, too embarrassed to make eye contact even in your drunken state. “Can we just forget about this?” You lifted your head. 

“Y/n… I could… help… if you want? I mean… you probably didn’t finish… right?” Sanji met your gaze.

Your stare met his and your mind went through a laundry list of better ideas before you settled on the act you chose to take next. You lifted your shirt over your head and leaned up towards Sanji and placed a chase kiss on his lips. Fully naked you pulled back from him. 

“Fuck me, Sanji.” You whispered with his head in your hands. 

At the speed of light, Sanji shed the towel and landed on top of you again. He smashes his lips into yours with a hunger you had never experienced. He pressed his tongue fervently into your mouth, like you’d never give him this opportunity again. You felt the velvet tip of his cock brush against your hot sex. 

“Let me just put it in… please, y/n?” Sanji moves his lips to mewl into your neck as he nips and sucks at your nape. He begs you so cutely and desperately while he grinds his hard cock into your wet center, there’s no way you could say no. 

“Please Sanji, want to feel you…” You move your right hand down to position his cock at your hole. You grope sensually at his cock and try to push it inside of you. “Sanji, want you inside of me, please…” You whimper out in his ear as he pushed his face further into your neck. 

Sanji obliges and pushes himself balls-deep inside your waiting hole. He lets out a high pitched whine as he bottoms out. 

“Y/n…” Sanji lifts his hands and starts pinching at your sensitive nipples below him. Sanji leans backwards and looks at your wrecked body beneath him, tight hole enveloping his throbbing cock. “Pretty girl needs to cum… let me help…” Sanji plants one hand on your hip and the other on your throat. 

Sanji uses the thumb of his hand on your hip to stroke your clit and the applies pressure with the hand on your neck so that your airway is perfectly restricted. 

“San-….. ji!….” You choke out against your lovers grip as you cum on his hand that was deeply stroking your sex. Sanji’s soft, deft fingers swirl around your clit and spasming, stuffed hole. The feeling of Sanji’s thick cock buried deep inside you and the stimulation from his hands on your bud was too much as you felt your eyes roll back into your skull… 

“You’re so pretty mon Cherie, I want to cum in you baby…” Your head shoots up and Sanji slams his hips deeply into yours. “You’re mine now, sweetheart…” 

Sanji plows his slender hips into yours as he cums deep inside your raw walls. 

“Ah!-“ You squeeze and cream all over your lover, eliciting a pathetic whine from the spent lovecook who was still inside of you. You try to catch your breath and flop your head back on the pillow. Sanji gently pulls out of you and lays himself down next to you. You toss and turn on your stomach for a moment before settling in and Sanji moves to sit up.

“Let me clean you up, beautiful angel…”

 “Can we just sleep tonight, this bed is really comfy…”   You whisper as you stroke Sanji’s cheek, keeping him in bed with you.

“Im certainly glad I’m not on the floor, ma belle.” Sanji wrapped his arm around your torso and promptly began snoring. 

xx Mo

[mvltisstuff]

head over heels - e.b

summary: after y/n rescues an abandoned puppy, she brings it home to buck who slowly falls in love with it

evan buckley x reader

y/n was busy driving home after her shift, and she was calling hen, who was busy ranting about something someone did at work. obviously focused on the road, she was also listening to the story hen was telling her.

“i mean it’s ridiculous! i told him several times to do it and he never did!” hen yells through the phone onto y/n’s speaker. “i don’t know if he’s just bad at his job or what.”

“he might just be adjusting to working here. that was not a normal thing, though.”

“i guess, but still.”

y/n was on an almost empty side road, the lack of other vehicles was definitely noticeable. the sides were just tall grass and dirt with a few pieces of trash someone threw out their window. she was looking around in the wet dirt and saw something almost completely blending in, but there was certainly something there. it was breathing a bit, it’s chest rising suspiciously slow. she thought about just driving away, it was probably just a squirrel or something. but it looked to big to be a squirrel. y/n saw it’s little head peek out, and it looked like a more domestic animal. her focus on hens words had become faint because she was paying attention to something else. something was telling her that something was wrong. she felt like this animal was not supposed to be there. no animal should be there, sad and alone on the side of the road, but this one felt particularly worse.

“hey, hen?” y/n starts, cutting her off. “i’ve gotta go.” she pulls over to the side of the street, checking her blind spots and grabbing her phone before leaving her car. when she walks out, she slowly walks up to the sad creature that was still laying in the mud. the small animal was a puppy, couldn’t be older than a few months. the poor thing was whining and making small whimpers. y/n was shocked, not really knowing what to do. of course everyone has seen videos of animals being rescued, but once you’re in that position, you don’t know what to do. she doesn’t make any abrupt moves or sounds so she doesn’t scare the already traumatized dog. y/n could tell by its eyes that it had seen some things.

“ok, buddy,” she begins. “stay here, you’ll be ok.” she walks back to her car, taking out an old t-shirt and carefully wrapping the puppy up in it. the white whisps of fur were almost completely concealed by the pileup of dirt on his itchy skin. y/n checked around for any extra abandoned animals before bringing him to her car. she made a few phone calls before bringing him into a local emergency vet. he had no collar or tag, and clearly he was not wanted if he got out so young and no one looked for him. he was incredibly light, despite being so young. his tiny body was strong, though, being able to move around. he was scared and y/n wanted to cry and scream for this poor dog who couldn’t advocate or save himself.

“he seems alright,” the vet says. “we gave him some food and medication to make him feel a bit better, but there aren’t really any medical concerns for him. he’s going to be on edge for a bit, but he seems like he’ll be healthy.”

it seemed like a miracle, which is hard to see with these situations. the tiny puppy was a fighter for sure, and was so lucky that y/n had found him. “so, what should i do now?”

“you can bring him to a shelter if you don’t want him, or-“

“no, i don’t want him going to a bad shelter here in LA.” y/n looks at the little guy, wrapped up in a clean blanket and smelling around on the table. her heart melted a bit at this adorable puppy, wanting to just scoop him up and never look back. “i’ll take him home. i’ll figure something out.”

on the way home, y/n had stopped at the local pet shop to pick up a few small things. she figured he would stay tonight, so she gathered things like food and a bed for him and a few toys to make him feel more safe and happy. she had drawn a warm bath for him to get any extra dirt off, which revealed his shiny, white coat and he was already looking much happier. she worked on building trust, but had already forgotten about her second companion at home. she lives in bucks apartment with him. she didn’t think he would be upset, but a complicated schedule would probably stray him away from a young puppy. however, that wasn’t going to stop her from caring for this helpless puppy.

y/n had been brushing his coat and playing with him a bit, trying to warm him up with some food. he was still a bit scared from loud noises of neighbors and quick movements, but he was in much better condition than when he was discovered.

“y/n?” buck starts walking around, placing his things on the counter and slipping off his shoes. “y/n? i’m home.” he doesn’t hear a reply, but he surely noticed the scattered dog toys and the water bowl. he sighs and prepares himself for what is likely in his apartment.

“shoot, i didn’t text him!” y/n says, cleaning up the mess in the bathroom from cleaning him up. she hears bucks footsteps walking up the stairs, and she knows she’s in for an earful.

“hey, y/n, what’s all that pet st-“ buck stops in his tracks when he sees a small puppy in y/n’s arms, cradling him like a baby. the tub was draining dirty water, and the white bundle was in a towel. now it was his turn to be speechless. buck loves animals, but he definitely would’ve liked some warning before she bought she dog.

“before you say anything or get mad,” y/n interrupts. “i was driving home from work, and i saw his little body on the side of the road. i couldn’t leave him, buck! it was so sad, he was so scared and i couldn’t just drive away!”

“baby, i am not mad,” buck smiles and walks closer, placing a hand on her shoulder. “i was just not expecting this today, that’s all. but are you sure he wasn’t just lost?”

“he had no collar or tag on him. it was also in the middle of nowhere, he couldn’t have gotten there on his own and made it that far.”

“i don’t- can we take care of a dog? he’s going to need attention and all that stuff.”

“we know a lot of people who can watch him when one of us can’t. we’ll be here most of the time for him, too. i know you can’t say no to this face!” she babies her voice at the end, looking at the puppy and facing him toward buck. he gives him a quick scratch behind his big ears.

“fine, he’s cute,” he finally admits. y/n gives him a confused look and the puppy gives him those eyes. “ok well when he looks at me like that, how can i say no? he’s adorable!”

“that’s why i brought him home! he’s all healthy and all he needs is a few vaccinations.”

“does he have a name?”

“no, i’ve been calling him boy for the past hour. i wanted to wait for you.”

“did you have anything in mind?” he says, leading everyone out to the bed.

“i think apollo was cute, greek fighter, destroyer.”

“is he going to destroy our house?”

“no! but he’s a little fighter guy, he’s tough, aren’t you?” she says, picking him up and holding him in the air.

the next few days had been long, staying up with a crying puppy at night and trying to make him comfortable in a new home. they were just glad he wasn’t anywhere else, like some abusive home or neglectful shelter.

after a night out with some of her friends, y/n had come home at around 10:30. she had put her purse on the table, and expected her boyfriend to come up and greet her. all she heard were deep snores from the bed upstairs. all of the lights were on, so buck probably just fell asleep watching TV.

y/n walked up the stairs only to be confronted by her boyfriend and apollo, who was snuggled into bucks arms and peacefully sleeping. she covered her mouth and let out quiet giggles, taking a picture to show buck in the morning. she walks over and scoops up the young dog. he groaned and yawned in her arms. “apollo, i bought you a nice bed for a reason!” she whispers and places him in his crate, closing the door so he wouldn’t get hurt roaming around the apartment. “goodnight, buddy.” she says to the already sleeping puppy.

y/n had just stepped out of the shower, changing into a pair of clothes and brushing out her wet hair. “y/n!” buck yells. “come here!”

oh god, she thinks. either the two of them got into mischief together, or apollo did something wrong and buck summoned y/n to fix it. her worries are settled when she sees apollo on the floor in front of buck, who was dangling a treat. “look what he learned! apollo, sit.” he obeyed bucks words, and buck cheers him on with a huge smile before looking at y/n. “he’s learning! you’re a good dog, pollo.”

“you know, when i brought him home i definitely didn’t expect you two to become best friends.”

“well you know what they say,” buck says, pecking y/n’s lips as she sits down next to him.

after a normal day, y/n and buck were upstairs on their shared bed. y/n was straddling buck, both of them making out. they were fully dressed, finally out of work clothes and being able to spend time together. “you’re so beautiful, buck.” y/n says, before realizing how distracted he is. “you ok?”

“y-yeah! i’m great, it’s just him,” he says pointing to apollo. “we can’t have sex in front of him, he’s our child!”

“do you want me to put him in the bathroom or something? he can’t get into anything in there.”

buck thinks about it, ready to say yes, but apollo had other plans. he leaps onto the bed, giving small licks to both of their faces. y/n looks at buck, who has an apologetic look on his face. “alright, buddy. you win!” y/n says, slightly defeated by the little guy. “but you are not ruining my sex life.”

“honey, don’t say that in front of him!” buck shouts under his breath.

“it’s not like he heard me!”

“still, his ears are too innocent for that.” y/n rolls her eyes and moves apollo in between them as she moves to the side.

apollo had gotten significantly bigger, now in his awkward puppy stage. his legs were a little too long, his coat was growing in a weird way, but he was still the same old apollo. y/n and buck had brought apollo to the dog park, along with christopher and eddie. christoper adores apollo, taking any opportunity to watch him play around. eddie was throwing a ball around with chris and apollo, watching the dog run after it and bringing to back again. they took turns throwing it so he could fetch it, chris had even been throwing sticks for apollo to run after.

y/n and buck watched from the side, their dog running back up the them every time, jumping up in excitement. they gave him encouraging words with high pitched voices, like he just graduated high school. they were offering him treats and water, and asking him questions like he could answer. eddie mockingly asks them, “why do you guys treat him like he’s royalty?”

“because he runs our house?” buck retorts back at him in question form.

“you wouldn’t get it, dad,” says christopher.

“get what? we don’t even have a dog, how do you get it?”

“i just do, okay?” eddie shakes his head and lets them praise this dog like he just won an academy award.

buck wraps his arm around y/n’s waist, standing behind her and placing his chin on her shoulder. “i think you found a good dog, y/n.”

“i think he found us. plus i called it, i knew you’d fall in love with him immediately.” they watched their no longer tiny dog run around with his friends, his new red collar and bone shaped name tag. apollo didn’t care how they lived their life, because dogs will love people as long as they’re good to them, and they saved his life.

bonus w buck and apollo 🥲:

y/n had come upstairs after cleaning up the living room a bit, just reorganizing some of her stuff and fixing bucks things. when she walked up, she saw buck and apollo on the floor. apollo was dressed up in one of bucks shirts with LAFD and his name on the back. “look! he’s a fire dog!” y/n was laughing hysterically at what they’d gotten into. she left him alone for two minutes and he had already dresses him in human clothes.

“buck, he looks pissed,” y/n says. “he looks like he’s ready to bite your fingers off.”

“he would never! he looks great! maybe he should work at the station.”

“you’d get fired from being a disturbance to the dog,” y/n jokes, thinking of how buck will always just walk up to him and talk to apollo like a toddler and giving him gentle pets and scratches.

“you’re a hypocrite, you would do the same thing.”

“touché,” she says kissing his forehead, smiling at buck and his best friend.

[angelasscribbles]

65 Poly Asks Part 1

I was super stoked to stumble across these asks specifically for polycules!!

I saved these asks two months ago and am just now finding the time and energy to sit and answer them.

I haven’t been that active lately but suddenly tonight I had a bit of free time and started reading through these and got so excited to answer them!

There are 65 questions and I tend to be long winded, so I’m going to do them a few at a time so you’re not reading a book by the time I’m done.

Ok, let’s dig in!!

I’m answering for my Bad Romance gang, obviously. Here are the first ten questions.

How many members are in the polycule? How are they related to each other? Feel free to draw a flowchart. I think that I already answered this here in depth, so I’ll try to stay brief. There are five primary members: Liam, Drake, Max, Riley, and Rashad. Six if you count Siobhan, an OC I made up that in my mind is still around, but I haven’t really written much about her. Riley and Liam are married and they are the king and queen of Cordonia. Riley, Max, and Liam are a throuple. Max is officially Riley’s personal assistant and top royal advisor. Drake is only with Riley romantically. Drake and Liam are best friends and have been since childhood. Drake is the head of Riley’s Queen’s Guard. Rashad was originally Liam’s friend but is now Riley’s lover and her personal lawyer. Liam and Rashad are still friendly, but Drake and Rashad do not like each other. Siobhan is Riley’s friend with benefits. Siobhan and Drake have been intimate with each other in a threesome with Riley. I might expand on that relationship, eventually. Hana is Riley’s best friend. They slept together once, but it didn’t affect their friendship. Hana is aromantic. She and Liam actively dislike each other, but try to get along for Riley’s sake.

Did the relationship start polyamorous, or was it a monogamous relationship that eventually opened? Oh, it started monogamously with Riley breaking up with Max to date Liam, then descended into a toxic hot mess when Liam broke her heart but then refused to let her go (there was an iron-clad marriage contract involved).

If it started monogamous, how did the process of opening the relationship go? Well, basically Riley just did whatever she wanted and tried her best to push Liam away. He refused to be pushed though and eventually agreed to a Cordonian Arrangement (a clause added to the marriage contract that legally opens it). Once he developed his own feelings for Max, and realized that you can, in fact, love more than one person at the same time, he chilled out a lot with the jealousy.

Are there any mono-poly relationships in the polycule? Aaaghh! Yes!! Drake remains mostly monogamous (he has engaged in a threesome, but he doesn’t think that counts since Riley was one of the participants; it was her idea, and she chose the other person).

What “shape” is the polycule? A triad, a “V”, a straight line of metamours, or incomprehensible? Listen. It’s complicated lol. Again, I went into great detail here. Basically63, Liam, Max, and Riley are a triad and they are nesting partners. But since Drake is also a nesting partner, even though he’s mono and only with Riley, I count them as a quad. Rashad is Riley’s lover and he is solo-poly with lots of other partners, so he is not a nesting partner but part of the extended polycule.

Where do each of the members land on the “solo poly” to “entwined” spectrum? As stated above, Rashad is solo poly. He dates very casually but is married to his job. His only deep emotional entanglement is Riley but even for her, he wouldn’t change his lifestyle. They work because she would never ask him nor want him to. After all, she has (functionally) three husbands already. Riley, Drake, Liam, and Max are about as entangled as it gets. They live together, work together, and often share a bed.

Where do each of the members land on the “free agent” to “community oriented” spectrum? Rashad and Riley are free agents. Siobhan too. Max and Liam are very community oriented. And, despite the grumpy exterior and being annoyed a lot by Max, Drake is pretty community oriented as well.

How did each member realize they were polyamorous? Did they always know, or was there some sort of epiphany? Max always knew…  he was poly before he met Riley. He’s the one who told her about it when she asked him what was wrong with her for having feelings for more than one person at a time. Riley figured it out quickly. Liam took a little longer, but he got there eventually. What started as a one-time threesome with Riley and Max turned out to be a potent combination of physical attraction and a lifelong friendship that ended with him falling hard and fast for Max, with Riley’s enthusiastic blessing.

Do any of the current members practice hierarchical polyamory? Who are the primary partners? Oh, yes. I understand that a lot of people find hierarchy unethical but if you ask Liam, he will tell you that he is Riley’s husband and furthermore, he is the king and Riley is his queen making their marriage and the ruling of Cordonia the first priority. Mostly everyone is on board with that and it works. Not always though. Riley would say she loves each of them differently but she does not love one more than another. Max is pretty submissive in personality, and since he’s in love with both Riley and Max, he would not dispute that Liam and Riley’s relationship is primary, he’s just happy to be part of it. Drake’s biggest issue in the beginning was seeing himself as NOT primary. Being monogamous, he saw her marrying Liam as her choosing Liam over him, and it took him leaving for a while to come to terms with it. He still struggles with it from time to time, but now they have open communication and are always able to work through it.

If the polycule is hierarchical, what differs in the boundaries set for primary vs secondary partners? Tertiary partners? Drake doesn’t have other partners. Liam does casual hookups when he travels. Riley occasionally does. Protection is a huge thing that everyone must use if they are going outside the primary quad. I haven’t explored this issue much but I have thought about writing some one-shots around this issue. Since they are pretty closed, catching feelings for someone outside the established polycule might be an issue. This question is making me think I need to explore this in some one-shots.

[1-800-imagines]

the party. part 2 |r.c.|

series masterlist

after talking about it with sarah the two of you had decided that just you would be going to the party. sarah didn’t want to add any more drama especially since it was at topper's house. 

sarah was reluctant to just let you lose on the party without her for backup but you had reassured her that you would text her if you needed anything. 

sarah wasn’t going to completely ditch you. she was going with you to your house to help you get ready. then she would most likely be going to be with john b but still accessible if they needed to come wreck havoc at the party. 

you had asked sarah multiple times if she thought rafe actually meant it about taking you alone to which sarah had said, “yes. he likes you more than he likes me.” she was currently doing your hair. then she added, “he always asks about you, especially once you started dating that dick bag and didn’t come over as much.” she paused for a moment and said, “honestly surprised rafe hasn’t literally killed him.”

you didn’t know how to react to what sarah had just said. she went into your closet to pick something out for you to wear so you took that moment to text rafe and make sure he was okay with just you going.  he hadn’t been back at sarah’s when you made the decision. so, you texted rafe to tell him and make extra sure he meant it and said ‘hey, just me tonight. that still ok?’

he had texted you back in minutes saying, ‘course it is kiddo. i’ll pick you up around 9.’

your heart did a small backflip and sarah walked back in the room, holding up a variety of outfits. you shook your head a little and smiled at her, “you’re really putting a lot of thought into this sare.”

“duh, we gotta make you look hotter than you usually look to make that douche realized how bad he fucked up.” she quipped, grabbing your hand and pulling you to a stand so you could try on the different outfits. 

——

after what seemed to be forever, sarah had finally chosen the ‘perfect outfit’ according to her. 

it was a light pink mini dress that had a v neck. “don’t you think this is a little much? i mean it’s just topper's house.”

“no it’s perfect. you look smokin.” sarah said smiling. “now, do you want me to wait till rafe gets here? to make sure he shows up? coz if he doesn’t, i’ll take you. ”

you shook your head, “nah it’s okay. i’ll let you know when i get to the party.” you had to admit you did have a small amount of doubt that rafe would change his mind and not want to bring you after all. 

but sure enough, at 8:50, he had texted you that he was on his way. 

but at 8:55, your doorbell rang and a minute later your mom called out to you, “sweetie! rafe is here to pick you up.” 

your eyebrows furrowed together as you walked down the stairs, unsure why rafe was at your front door, much less talking to your mom. 

“don’t worry miss y/l/n, i’ll make sure she gets home safe.” you heard rafe say. 

you bit down on your lip to keep from smiling. you finally stepped up to the door and you felt rafe’s eyes rake down your body. 

you blushed and looked at your mom to hide it. she smiled at you, “have fun. be safe.” she kissed your cheek and you walked out the door. “bye rafe honey.” your mom added as the two of you walked towards his truck. 

rafe got to the passenger side and started to open the door for you. you thanked him and got in. 

when he got in the drivers seat, he paused before starting the truck, and turned towards you, “you look really great kid.”

you blushed again, “thanks.“ your eyes looked out the window, not wanting to look directly at him. 

he obviously saw this and patted your thigh then giving it a little squeeze. this shot electricity through your entire body. 

you did turn back towards him, without looking at him, but you could just tell he was smirking. 

after an agonizingly long car ride (less than 10 minutes), you had made it to toppers house. 

when rafe got out of the truck, you took a second to text sarah that you had made it. he walked around to your side and opened the car door for you. he also put out his hand to help you hop down. when you were standing, he turned towards you and gently lifted your chin up, “how do you wanna play this?”

you gave him a puzzled look, “what do you mean?”

“well. we could be here as friends or we could be here on a date. or i could get topper to hit on you. any of the above.”

you contemplated before saying, “i think he’d be the most pissed if it was us on a date.”

“gotcha sweetheart. tell me if it’s too much and i’ll back off.” he said, closing the car door and putting his arm around you to walk inside.  

----

comment to be tagged for part 3!!

[moonlight0934]

Persuasion

Bruce types, his eyes burning. He knows that he should have given up on his work and gone to bed hours ago. Especially with Tim sitting in the corner, working on cold cases. He hasn’t even stopped to make Tim go home like he normally would, but he just wants to be done with it so badly. At least done with enough that he won’t have to get up quite so early later this morning. He glances at the clock in the corner of the screen.

Shit, it’s three a.m. already.

“Tim, you should go home.”

Tim hums without even looking up. Bruce pinches his nose, forcing himself not to roll his eyes at the kid across the room from him who is far too similar to Bruce for his own good. Bruce stands up, stretching.

“Tim, did you hear me?”

Tim hums again, even though he’s obviously not paying attention.

“Tim!”

Tim looks up.

“Yeah, Bruce?”

“You need to go home. It’s late.”

“Can I crash here tonight?”

It’s not the first time Tim has asked Bruce that, but Bruce is always tempted to say no. He knows that Alfred will be angry if he makes Tim go back to his empty house, or make him risk sneaking in if his parents are there. Especially since it’s so late.

“Fine, you can. You’re still sleeping on the couch though.”

Tim nods, and stands up. He stretches, his joints popping. Bruce winces slightly as he grabs his stuff to go up the stairs with him. He heads straight to bed, turning his phone and JL communicator off. He falls asleep almost immediately because of how absolutely exhausted he is. He wakes up a few hours later feeling sore and still so tired.

Why am I awake? I haven’t been asleep long enough.

Then he realizes that there’s a small hand shaking his arm.

Jason?

He’s half-way through asking if Jason had a nightmare when he realizes that it’s Tim standing beside his bed.

“Bruce.”

“What do you want?”

“Someone named Clark is calling the house phone. Is Superman calling you?”

“How do you know that?”

“I’m smart.”

“Did you answer, or did he leave a message?”

“He left two messages, and then I answered. He said that he wanted to talk to you, but your phone was going straight to voicemail. He tried to make it seem like it was something normal, but since I figured that it was Superman, I also figured that it was something to do with Batman.”

“Get out. I’ll be down in a second.”

Tim nods, and runs out. Bruce pulls on a hoodie, and follows Tim down the stairs. Tim is on the phone, smiling.

“What are you doing?”

“Making him uncomfortable by making small talk without divulging anything about myself. I haven’t even told him my name. He’s unnerved, probably because I’m in your house.”

Bruce takes the phone.

“What do you want, Clarke?”

“We need your help. There’s an alien that’s trashing Central right now, and it’s calling for all hands on deck.”

“I can’t. Robin is at my house right now, and I can’t just leave him here.”

“Bring him for all I care. We just really need your intelligence for this. Wait, was I talking to Robin while actively trying not to die?”

“Yep.”

“He’s suited for you, isn’t he? Anyway, I won’t call you for a week if you come down here.”

“Alfred isn’t here to watch Robin, I seriously can’t just leave him.”

“I’m serious too, just bring him. It’ll be fine. He seems smart, so he could even be helpful.”

“Fine, but you’re not calling or talking to me for a week and a half.”

“Sure thing. I got him to come, and he’s bringing his newest kid. I told you I’m persuasive,” Clark yells.

Bruce hangs up.

“I hate my life. Ok, come on. We’re suiting up, and heading down to Central in the plane.”

Tim nods.

“Am I going to meet the Justice League?”

“Yes, unfortunately. There’s an alien that they can’t figure out how to deal with. They’re idiots.”

“I assume you have to play babysitter and save them a lot,” Tim says as he follows Bruce down to the cave.

“Yep.”

Tim snickers. They both get suited up, and fly over to Central. Most of the Justice League is there, flying around this giant blob alien. Bruce lands the plane, and walks out.

“Ok, stay safe, and try not to talk to any of the Justice League members. They haven’t met you, and they’re easily distracted.”

“Oh, that is not how I thought that was going to go. So I can go near them, but I can’t talk to them?”

“Exactly. Just stay safe, ok?”

“I will be super careful with the giant alien blob. It’s like the blue thing off of Monster Vs. Aliens.”

“I don’t know what you’re saying, but ok.”

Bruce grapples over to Clark, leaving Tim by the plane. A wad of alien goo flies towards them immediately, but Bruce just ducks out of the way.

“What’s the situation?” he asks, sounding annoyed and tired.

Clark opens his mouth to respond, but then Tim lands next to them.

“B.”

“What Robin?”

“I figured out the monster’s weakness.”

“Hi, Robin. It’s nice to meet you,” Clark says.

Tim looks at him, cocking his head to the side.

“I’m not allowed to talk to you. Anyway-”

“Robin, what is it?”

“Water. It screamed and started to dissolve when I threw water at it.”

“Why were you doing that?”

Tim just stares at Bruce until Bruce turns back to Clark.

“Well, you heard him. Try to throw a lot of water at it, and see what happens.”

Clark nods, and flies away to tell the others.

“Why were you throwing water at it?”

“I didn’t mean to actually. I was drinking some water by the plane while trying to figure out what I needed to do. Then it started spitting goo at me, and I dropped my water. It spilled everywhere, including on the goo that had already hit the ground. It was hilarious.”

Bruce nods, too tired to care. He grapples over to where the League is congregating.

“Ok, we tried it, and it worked. So, now we have to figure out how to get it over to the water, or we can fill that giant crater with water. We’d have to work on distracting it at the same time, then we’d have to lure it over there,” Clark says.

“Where did this thing even come from?” Barry asks.

“I don’t know. This is your city. Anyway, we can figure that out later,” Hal replies, folding his arms.

“Lantern, fill up the crater. Superman, Flash, you’re with me,” Bruce says, then walks past them.

It’s not a hard process to keep the thing chasing them, and it falls right into the crater when they lead it over there. It’s completely dissolved within three minutes. Bruce turns to say something to Clark when he sees Robin fly past. It looks like something tossed him, and slams into the wall of a building a few feet away.

“Robin!” Bruce yells, taking off towards him.

There’s still no visible threat. Tim’s head is bleeding heavily, and he doesn’t focus on Bruce when Bruce sits him up.

“Robin, status report.”

Tim just blinks lethargically.

“Mh, he hit his head pretty hard.”

“Who is that?” Hal demands.

“That’s Bat’s new Robin. He’s the one who figured out the water,” Clark says.

“Ooooh, you hit Bat’s kid,” Barry says.

Bruce turns around so quickly.

“You did this?”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t even aware you had a new sidekick. He just popped up out of nowhere, and scared me.”

“What are you? A toddler?”

Bruce picks Tim up.

“I’m taking him home. We’re going to be talking about this at the next meeting. Also, you are not “persuading me” into taking him anywhere near you guys again,” Bruce growls, cradling Tim against his chest.

He still doesn’t get much of a response from Tim, so he sits Tim right next to him. He watches him the entire flight home. Leslie is waiting when he gets there, and she checks Tim over. Bruce leaves him there, and goes to his room. He can’t stand to wait around like he’s done so many times before. So, he waits in his room until Leslie comes up to tell him that Tim will be fine.

“Ok, good. Thank you, Leslie.”

Leslie nods, and walks back out. Bruce puts his head in his hands.

I can’t believe that I let my teammates hurt my partner. What would I have even done if he hadn’t been ok?

Bruce spends the rest of the night overthinking with his anxiety overcoming all of his rational thoughts.