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earlysunshines · 4 months ago

Text

just pretend(?)

danielle marsh x fem!reader ; angst, fluff

synopsis: your coworker can’t seem to fall out of love with you so you convince your best friend to fake date you. sometimes the “fake” seems a little too real.

warnings: PINING!!! ; danielle is touchy and wonderful and reader is a mess ; kinda all over the place?? I'm also a bit iffy ab the pacing on this one ; bit of angst near the end ; alcohol ; anything else not mentioned ; not proofread… none of my fics are…

a/n: this is based off my life rn bc my friend and i r literally fake dating so my coworker can stop being in love w me and i just HAD to turn this into a fic like what (but most of this is exaggerated ofc esp the whole coworker thing I made her a little over the top on purpose for the plotLOL)

"absolutely not." hanni looks disgusted, almost appalled with that stupid expression on her face. “you’re crazy.”

"please, i'll pay you." you beg, clasping your hands together and giving her your best puppy eyes.

"you're going to scare the hoes away... no, no, and no.”

"what ‘hoes’ hanni? when is the last time you've talked to a girl." you groan and pinch the bridge of your nose.

she sticks her tongue out at you, then responds, “you wouldn’t know…”

“dumbass the only reason i’m begging is because women do want me. please, it’s not going to be serious or anything—“

“i don’t care, the answer is no. ask someone else!”

you’re currently perched on the edge of your best friend's bed, practically begging for help. you seem to have a knack for attracting the strangest types of people, and this time, it’s your coworker who’s got severe attachment issues and an unhealthy level of codependency. all you wanted was a paycheck and simplicity, but now you find yourself in a situation you never asked for.

your best friend groans again, “you and your flirting… it gets you into this shit time and time again and the way you act… you know what you’re doing.”

“what?”

“shut up, you act gay and you know people fall for that. i’m not gonna help you because you want to be an asshole, if you could just be normal for once—“

“fuck you.” you flop onto her bed, shutting your eyes and rubbing your face. “i’m just nice and it’s fun to flirt! it’s nothing. i flirt with my friends and you all the time, they’re fine with it.”

“that’s because they’re straight, y/n. gay people are very vulnerable – except me.”

“you would know.” you retort, earning a glare from hanni. “who the hell do i ask then?”

“haerin?”

“she wouldn’t.”

“yunjin?”

“we don’t match, plus, she dates around.”

“sakura?”

“edating someone right now, some girl in france?”

“the hell?”

“i know.” you sigh louder and hanni just looks at you with slight, playful disgust. “what do i do.” you flop your hands onto the mattress and stare up. “dude, she’s too obsessed, i’m flattered because i mean, maybe i’m attractive and whatnot but this is just–”

“--delusion at its peak.” hanni clicks her tongue, now smiling at you; an idea pops up in your best friend's big head. you turn to face her, raising a brow. “how about dani? she’s literally perfect.”

danielle marsh is perfect, that’s the problem.

she’s a biology major whose ipad pro notes are so neat and pleasing to the eye that they genuinely keep you awake at night – most of it being because you’re leeching off her, but they’re so neat it really has you thinking how she does it all.

to make things even more bewildering (and impressive), she’s one of two people you know – you’re unsure whether your cousin hyein counts, high school is nothing compared to what you endure – who manages to get at least eight hours of sleep daily. in contrast, everyone else in your circle, including yourself, is barely hanging on by a thread.

yet, danielle seems to have cracked the code. she even finds time to volunteer at the library where she works, making you wonder if she’s some sort of extraordinary being. her ability to balance everything so effortlessly leaves you in awe, often questioning if she’s even real considering how remarkable she is.

the worst part is that she’s your best friend, right after hanni, and the person you’ve been crushing on since your first semester of university.

it’s impossible not to have a crush on her—she’s gorgeous, sweet, and embodies everything you could ever want and more. she’s captivating, and every time you see her she flashes that stupid, adorable smile that makes your heart do a flip regardless of how many times you’ve convinced yourself that she’s unattainable and that there’s no way and that you don’t even like her and–

“i couldn’t.” you shut hanni down, quick. “she’s… you know.”

hanni furrows both brows, turning her head. “she’s what?”

“you know.” you make some strange gesture with your hands that only confuse hanni further.

“i don’t, just fake date her.”

“she wouldn’t agree.”

“sure she would, let me call her!”

you shoot up and look at hanni with an expression that screams ‘are you out of your mind?’ as she finds danielle’s contact on her phone.

before you can stop her, you hear a ringing sound and feel your body give up. hanni grins at you when danielle picks up five seconds later, both of you hearing a friendly, “hi!” as you back away from her.

“hey mo dani!” hanni greets, giving you a shit eating smirk. “miss l/n has a question for you.”

“she’s with you?” danielle’s voice is sweet like honey even from the phone. “hi!”

“hey!” you greet a little awkwardly, glaring at hanni.

“y/n was wondering if you could date her.”

eyes widening, you leap and grab the phone from hanni immediately, sputtering out jumbles of words nervously, “n-no! i mean, yeah… but not for real.”

“oh,” you hear danielle respond lowly from the end of the phone. “wait, i’m confused.”

hanni watches you close your eyes tightly, clearly flustered and thrown off by her little antics.

“y/n came over to ask me to date her, not actually, but just like, pretend.” hanni explains, “her coworker is still in love with her.”

“sarah?” you hear from the other end of the phone. “i thought you rejected her like, three months ago.”

“i did, but she’s still… ugh.” you flop onto the bed again and danielle hears hanni laughing in the background. “she’s still stuck on me i think, i don’t know, she’s been so…”

“if it’ll stop bothering you then i’ll help!”

“you will?” you respond, shocked. hanni mouths an i told you, then gets shoved.

“yeah! i don’t want my best friend being so bothered, it must make you uncomfy too, right? working with someone who likes you?”

you start to wonder if danielle would be uncomfortable in a similar situation, maybe in one where she’s friends with someone who likes her, but she’s unaware of that. you shake your head, clearing your mind and staying present.

“kind of, it’s just… extra stress.”

“okay, then let’s date!” she beams, you can picture her eyes scrunching and smile growing. you want to die (affectionate) just thinking of it. “this should be fun!”

“thanks for helping out dani, thanks so much. i’ll let you be, okay? gotta go um… run errands.”

“alright! just text me, bye, love you.” the call ends and you sigh again, feeling yourself sink deeper into hanni’s sheets.

hanni is very much your mortal enemy, she still doesn’t know why you’re so distraught because of danielle. whatever the reason may be, it makes her cackle next to you.

–

it’s nine in the morning, you didn’t have time to pregame the lecture on microbiology with at least three shots of espresso, and you’re yawning as you leave the room.

you hear your name being called out and turn to see no one other than the feeling of hot chocolate on a cold, snowy day turned into a person walking towards you – danielle.

“hey! hi.” she greets, smiling wide. her hair is clipped up and small strands of her hair stick out cutely. “hey baby.”

you almost choke. “what?”

“did you forget we’re dating now?”

“oh.” dating, but is it even that if it’s not real? “um, hey babe?” it comes out uncertain and danielle laughs.

“wow, you suck at this – it’s okay, we’ll work on it.” she giggles, then links her arms with you. “let’s go get coffee, i need it in my system right now. oh my god, it’s our first date!”

laughing to hopefully fade away all signs of being flustered to oblivion, you tighten your arm that’s locked with hers. “right, yeah.”

you’re going on a ‘date’ with the prettiest girl on campus, she’s paying for your iced americano with oat milk splashed into it, and she’s smiling at you like you’re laughter in the rain. this can’t be good for you, it can’t be — it’s not. you wonder whether this will be worth it in the end because your coworker doesn’t even know about any of it.

(yet.)

–

before your next shift with your delusional coworker, you and danielle have already conjured up a storyline and backstory for your whole arrangement.

you two conversed for an hour after walking towards the park near her apartment and sitting down next to each other on the swings like kids. danielle was giggling and you were smiling at how charming she looked. unfortunately, you found yourself falling even harder for her just from making up the whole fake story.

danielle suggested keeping it simple, but cute: you two met at the library she worked at, you found her cute and exchanged numbers, went on a few dates, and have been girlfriends for nearly two months.

“but i literally told sarah that i wasn’t looking for anything.” you explain, sighing as you kick the mulch on the ground. that’s what you had said, but what you meant was that you’ve been looking for danielle the whole time. “she won’t believe it.”

“well,” danielle gives you a cheeky look and giggles. “i managed to charm you in a way that pushed that whole idea aside. that’s not too unbelievable, right?” she winks at you and you feel your heart stop momentarily.

you scoff playfully and snicker, “oh shut up.”

“it’s part of the story! are you saying i have no charm…”

she has too much charm.

“dani, you’re such a dork.”

“a dork that caught your heart! i think this story is perfect.”

pushing aside the slight ache in your heart and the flush in your cheeks, the two of you formulate a first date story: you took her out bowling, where you lost terribly to her (danielle insisted this detail had to be included), and then you both had dessert together at your place.

it’s not a terrible story, not at all. even hanni would be impressed, but you’re not going to tell her because she’d tease you both relentlessly, and you’re not sure your heart could handle that.

–

danielle walks you into work holding your hand, your coworker, sarah, watches the whole thing.

a pretty girl (pretty is an understatement in your opinion) smiles at you while walking you in, she’s telling you about the little kids she read to the other day and you can’t help but marvel at the excitement coursing through her.

she drops you off near the register right before the small ��employees only’ sign, then holds both of your hands and looks at you like you’re a flower that’s just bloomed beautifully.

she pauses, observing you closely, then smiles wider. “okay, i’ll get going sweetheart.” the pet name makes you swallow subtly. “have fun at work!”

she takes her hands away from yours, making your skin feel a little colder. “bye, see you.”

danielle glances at your coworker, who’s looking at her with something mixed with confusion, anger, and a hint of disgust. she then looks back at you – a better sight in her opinion – smiling and waving once more before walking away.

you stay there, frozen for a few seconds, before walking behind the counter and setting your bag down.

as you grab your apron, you catch sarah in your peripheral and turn to greet her. “oh, hey.”

“who was that?” she asks immediately. “what’s up with the ‘sweetheart?’”

you grin as while tightening the lace of your apron, then respond, “my girlfriend.” and it feels wonderful rolling off your tongue.

“what? i thought you didn’t want anything?”

“you still in love with me or something?”

she feels her throat dry as she looks at you pat down your apron. “w-what?” she stutters, shaking her head. “no, why would i be…” her tone isn’t convincing, and neither is she when she adds, “it’s just… what’s with the change of heart?”

“she’s really charming,” the thought of danielle begging you to mention that makes you blush. “i like her a lot.”

sarah fights back a frown, instead, her lips twitch into a forced smile as she walks past you to tend to a customer.

–

danielle picks you up from work just to tighten the knot, and sarah also witnesses all of it.

both you and your coworker get off at closing, and after locking the doors, you run into danielle.

she’s standing outside in a baby tee and jeans, a cap perched jauntily on her head. the moment she sees you, her face lights up into a pretty smile, and you instinctively return it. she rushes over, wrapping her arms around you in a warm hug. as she pulls back, she scans you with a playful yet affectionate gaze, her eyes lingering on you with a mixture of admiration and curiosity.

“sweetheart! i missed you.”

“i missed you too dani– baby…” you mutter the last part shyly, making danielle giggle. “you came? it’s late.”

“i wanted to pick you up, can your girlfriend not do that?”

it still sends a shiver down your spine – hearing danielle call you that. you rub the back of your neck and look away nervously, then respond, “of course not, i’m just surprised.”

sarah looks at the two of you, scoffing under her breath. danielle hears it, turning to look at her and grin, raising her brows along with it before meeting you again. she places a hand on your shoulder, then mumbles, “well, hanni called us over, i wanted to scoop you.”

“ohhh,” it makes sense now, she wouldn’t willingly pick you up just because of the whole ‘fake dating’ thing, there had to be a motive. “alright. i can drive? if you’d like, you know. you must be tired from work too.”

“aw, you’d do that?”

“i um,” you cough, avoiding her eyes again because she’s making you feel all flustered without doing much. “yeah, it’s nothing… baby…”

she grabs your hand, fingers intertwining before dragging you along to her small suv, then handing you her keys.

your coworker groans now that you two are further, narrowing her eyes at danielle when she turns back not so subtly to make sure sarah is looking. any normal person would back off, getting the hint that the person they want is unavailable, but sarah sees it as a challenge, somehow.

there’s nothing she can’t achieve when she puts her mind to it, that’s her mindset.

you’re oblivious to how insane she is, too clouded with how touchy and giggly danielle is after the whole interaction when teh two of you get in the car.

–

danielle sits besides you on hanni’s couch, leaning against you a bit. “yeah, she gave me a glare, it was kind of funny.”

“pftt– i guess it’s working then?” hanni asks, walking over to hand you two juice from her fridge. danielle takes it happily and it makes you smile a little.

“i hope so.” you sip on your peach juice. “but she’s like, clinically insane.”

“is she?” danielle questions, tilting her head as her hand finds its way to your bicep. you blush.

“dude, she was crazy.” hanni rubs her temple. “like, oh my god, she was going insane for a good while because y/n didn’t want her like that. i saw their messages and–”

“okay i’ll tell the story thank you.” you scoff. “she’s really competitive, and i guess new to romance? considering how she reacted i don’t know, she’s very…”

“sensitive?” danielle asks – you shake your head.

“i mean no, but kind of. she would get jealous over me really easily and was kind of codependent, like everything i do affects her or something. i’d just go on my day, but she’d always be so reliant on me and text me so often and i just… it’s so much.”

“ah, i see. how long has it been since you rejected her?”

“a few months. i thought she stopped liking me since it’s been so long, but lately there’s been tension and she’s looking at me how she used to…” hanni listens closely as she watches you rub your forehead, looking a little distraught. “i just, oh my god she has terrible attachment issues it’s concerning. the only thing i could think of was pretending to date someone.”

danielle nods in understanding.

“yeah, one time i went to see y/n at work and she looked so like… hostile. that’s not normal, we’re visibly friends.” hanni adds.

you know the exact afternoon that it happened, what hanni mentioned that is.

she had pulled up to drop something off, and you teasingly flirted with her, hugging her as thanks. afterward, you rang up one of her orders and played with her fingers, a little habit you had developed to annoy her. despite the evident look of disgust and annoyance on hanni’s face, your coworker—who allegedly liked you a bit too much—looked like hanni had just slapped you in the face or spat at you.

long story short, hanni glanced over to see the coworker glaring at her menacingly. in response, hanni poked at you once more before hurrying out with a latte in her hand, confused and slightly terrified.

“yeah she’s… got a bitch face.”

“it’s not normal to glare at people that simply interact with your coworker…” danielle mumbles. “i’m sorry to hear that.”

you wave your hand, giggling lightly. “it’s nothing, really. i mean, i just don’t want her to be so obsessed and stuck on me, i think us pretending to date should tame the fire.”

pretending.

the word makes both you and danielle tense up.

–

you clock in again, greeting sarah.

she smiles brightly at you, waving and you have to make a little gesture to remind her there’s a customer in line. sarah turns away bashfully, then takes the man’s order with a hint of attitude. you’re not very fond of that.

he orders an americano, so you immediately get to work, weighing out grinds of espresso, tamping it down, and pulling two shots. as you do so, sarah pulls up next to you and nudges your shoulder.

“hey,”

“hi.” you respond, not looking up from the cup in your hand. “did you need something?”

“that t-shirt looks good on you, have you been working out?”

you feel uneasy the moment she says it, swallowing a lump in your throat. you pour the two shots over the hot water and force a response, “thanks, and um, no.” before calling out the order.

sarah continues to watch you closely as you throw away the used espresso, then says, “your girlfriend didn’t drop you?”

“she’s working.”

“right. i’d find a way to drop off my girlfriend anytime that i could.”

“good for you?” you look her in the eye again, clenching your jaw.

“you don’t post her much on your socials either, are you guys really a thing?”

fuck.

you scoff, “what kind of question is that? of course… i just… don’t post much. we’re still kind of new to this.”

“right, she’s not even your lockscreen.”

“i’m going to grab some beans from the back,” you interrupt, redirecting the conversation away from the topic of your alleged girlfriend. sarah narrows her eyes at you as you turn away from her, stepping away and disappearing towards the storage area.

once you’re alone, you sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose, feeling the weight of the strange interrogation settle on you. there was an unmistakable hostility in sarah’s tone, a sharp edge that cut through the air. hanni’s right, she always is. the mere thought of enduring six more hours with sarah makes you want to crawl into a hole. her jealousy is palpable, and it eats away at you, gnawing at your nerves.

you pull out your phone and quickly dial danielle, pacing back and forth as you wait for her to pick up.

“hello?” she responds less than ten seconds later. “what’s up?”

“she’s catching on, kind of. i think she’s jealous.”

“sarah?”

“yes.” you groan, then lean your back against the wall. “i can’t work like this.”

“i’ll come over? do you need me to?”

“no, but can we meet after? i think we need to be more public, if that’s okay.”

you hear her confusion through the phone. “what? public?”

“like, soft launch or something. i just need to make it obvious that i’m quote on quote dating someone – you. and we need a lockscreen together.”

a giggle is heard on the other end of the line, “oh wow.” danielle mumbles teasingly, “this is pretty serious.”

“i hope i die.”

“aw, don’t say that babe. just come over to the library after, okay? good luck on your shift! i have to clock in soon too.”

“can we meet at my place?”

“anything is fine, that’s alright.”

“i literally owe you my first born, dani.”

“it’s nothing, this is quite entertaining.” she says, and you smile with the phone at your ear. “call me later, okay? send me updates.”

“right, yeah.” you almost whisper, “thank you.”

“it’s nothing, sweetheart.” her laugh is infused into the sentence, making your chest burn.

–

“this is so dumb.”

you are so dumb. this isn’t helping your case.

hanni and minji are fighting back laughter while you try to naturally rest your hand on danielles knuckles. you’re stiff and it looks anything but natural.

the angle you take the picture at makes it look awkward, and the picture’s quality sucks too.

“just relax.” danielle says, then holds your hand instead. “here, let me take the picture.”

you’re trying to keep your cool while minji and hanni watch and danielle, the prettiest girl you know, holds your hand and scoots closer to you in order to ‘soft launch’ your fraud of a relationship. her hand is nice in yours, her skin is soft, and she’s so close you can smell the vanilla fragrance she uses.

danielle snaps a quick picture, then the rest of the bunch – including you – scoot over to look at the picture.

“well would you look at that! it’s perfect.” danielle beams, grinning at her work. “post that one.”

“holy shit.” minji says in awe. “no yeah, you could fool me with that.”

“anyone could fool you, dumbass.” you snicker, looking up at her and smirking.

“i hate you.”

“oh, i guess you don’t want free food from my work…?”

minji groans, making you laugh.

danielle’s hand is still in yours, you don’t fully register it until you realize you need both hands to post a picture on your instagram story. she seems a bit disappointed when you let go, though you barely notice – and even if you did, you might just chalk it up to your imagination.

it's fun, no doubt about it. yet, you can’t help but wonder what it would be like to take pictures of you and danielle that aren’t staged or orchestrated. you long for authenticity, capturing moments that are mundane and candid.

the thought lingers in your mind the whole time, even as you pose with your back to the camera, pretending to cook alongside danielle. it's all set up and artificial, every movement planned out, yet danielle starts giggling and leaning into you – a spontaneous gesture not part of your last-minute brainstorming.

her laughter is genuine, her touch warm, and it makes you wonder if maybe, just maybe, not everything is as fake as it seems.

–

you wake up from your nap and groan as your ringtone renders you awake. blindly, you slap your hand in every direction on the bed until you feel it under your other pillow. someone’s calling you, that’s all you can make out since there’s a red and green circle.

tiredly, you mumble, “hello?”

“hi! are you busy?” it’s danielle’s voice responding, shaking you awake.

“oh, um, no.” you say as you sit up slowly, rubbing your eyes and running a hand through your hair. “are you okay? did something happen?”

“i’m fine! i was just wondering if you were free. you sound tired, were you sleeping?”

“i just took a power nap that’s all. what was it that you need?”

“oh, sorry to wake you.”

“it’s fine, seriously.”

“well,” she starts, “i was just wondering if you wanted to go out together?”

“oh, me?”

you hear her giggle through the phone and smile softly. “i mean, i am calling y/n, aren’t i?”

“yeah, you are.”

“and i’m asking you, my girlfriend, to hangout. it’s like a date!”

“we’re not actually dating danielle, you don’t have to pretend when we’re calling and alone.” you say quietly, pursing your lips.

it’s not that you hate it, danielle being all lovely and playing the role of your girlfriend too well. the thing is, it feels like you’re getting led on, and the way she is just gives you false hope to something real.

danielle feels a little ache in her heart when you respond like that, but she pushes it away for the time being.

“i don’t mind it, it’s fun!” she beams. “anyway, there’s free ice cream downtown for couples, do you want to grab some?”

“is there? yeah, i’m down. do you want to take the metro?”

“that’s perfect, there’s probably so much traffic.”

“alright, i can scoop you and take us to the station in fifteen minutes, okay?”

“perfect.” she closes the conversation, and the call ends.

you flop down on the bed again, just for a moment. your eyes are fixated on the ceiling above as you breathe in, thinking about everything.

you and danielle aren’t dating, not for real. it’s just a show, a sham. she simply wants to hang out for free ice cream, nothing more. you know this. you set yourself up for this whole fake dating thing—well, kind of, considering hanni was the culprit behind this whole arrangement.

it’s already been over a month, and danielle doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest, treating the whole thing as no big deal. you must be insane; you can’t keep doing this knowing your feelings are growing and she most definitely doesn’t feel anything real. it’s just to benefit you, and she’s a great friend who’s willing to help you out. yet, each time you pretend, it gets harder to separate your act from reality.

despite the turmoil, you’re up and finding a change of clothes in order to make danielle happy. because even if she’s not your girlfriend, she’s your friend and you love her regardless.

(sometimes the love you have claws you from the inside.)

–

danielle clings to your arm the whole way down to the city. sometimes she clings a little tighter than usual, then goes silent, and it makes you breathe deeply.

it takes a few wrong turns and teasing to get to the icecream place, there’s already a long line with actual couples. you feel out of place in a way; there’s partners holding the other by the waist from behind, setting their heads on top of the others. a few are just holding hands or lingering close and you can just sense all the love and adoration in the air.

you swallow shallowly, tensing your jaw because danielle is close to you, but not because you two are something more than friends.

“wow, so many lovebirds.” she says in awe, gazing around.

“uh huh.” you feel her hand slide down your forearm, then her fingers intertwine with yours as she looks up at you. “hm?”

“to seal the deal.” she shrugs, smiling. “plus, your hands are big… and warm.”

“you have small hands.”

“perfect fit for yours.” she giggles playfully, making you do the same. “what flavors did you want? it’s two scoops for free.”

“you can pick both, i don’t mind.”

“what? c’mon, you should pick one.”

“no, you wanted ice cream. i’m just here to make you happy.” you admit, tightening your grip on her hand.

she starts to respond, but stops for a few seconds. you watch her look away bashfully, staring at the ground and grinning to herself. she shakes her head, then says, “you’re so lovely…”

“pfttt, i just want you to be happy, seriously.”

“you know,” she begins, looking at you again. “whoever manages to become your girlfriend would be real lucky.”

“oh.” your lips twitch into less of a smile and you pause for a moment. “maybe.”

“this fake dating thing is making me realize that you’re such girlfriend material.”

a small laugh stifles the tension and awkwardness in you, “thanks? you are too.”

“am i?”

“yeah.” you stare into her eyes, shes everything you could wish for in a person. “very.”

before danielle can respond, the line moves, and it’s time for the two of you to decide on two flavors. it takes a while to do so, with you declining the offer to chime in and pick a flavor you want, danielle was the one to invite you out anyway. but she looks at you with puppy eyes, pouts, then puts a hand on the side of your bicep and it makes you cave in.

the final choices are salted caramel and coffee.

danielle holds the cup in one hand, drags you away from the area littered with lovey dovey couples – some being too lovey, considering they can’t seem to get away from each other – and leads you blindly towards a small alley in a neighborhood until a bench comes into view. she pulls you towards it eagerly, making you laugh until you’re both sitting next to each other.

you frown a little as you look at the ice cream in the cup. “some of it is melted.”

“not all of it!” danielle beams, then scroops a spoonful of the coffee side – the flavor you ended up choosing. “you have the first taste.” she says, bringing it closer to your mouth.

“wait, you should have it.”

“too late,” she starts to move it in a circular motion, saying, “ahhh~” as she does so.

you scoff, then lean forward and all of it is in your mouth in one bite. danielle watches your eyes light up.

“it’s good.” you mutter, then grab the other spoon to scoop the other flavor. you mirror what danielle did before, making her laugh just as much. “open wiiiiide~”

“ahhh~”

you snicker before moving the spoon into her mouth, she closes it and smiles immediately, melting in place despite the ice cream being pretty cold.

the street lights make her look precious, highlighting the satisfaction on her face because of some simple ice cream she’d gotten for free. you want to see her this happy everyday and as much as you can.

a small hint of ice cream is on the corner of her lips, it urges you to bring your hand over and wipe it off with your thumb. danielle stops savoring the dessert, instead, focusing on you.

“sorry, there was… yeah.”

“mhm.” danielle says, staring at your lips. “it’s really good.”

“i can tell.” you turn away, feeling flustered when she looks at you like that. “let me try your flavor.”

the two of you continue to eat ice cream together, subconsciously scooting closer and closer as you share it. danielle’s head ends up on your shoulder when the cup is empty in your hand, silent in her place.

you don’t budge, mainly because she seems comfortable and you don’t mind ruining your posture a bit if it’s for her. she sighs contentedly, moving her hand over to hold yours in the midst of the moment, slotting together effortlessly. she doesn’t say anything, but you feel her lean into you a little more.

“you okay?”

“just happy.”

“ah,” you rub your thumb against her skin. “that’s good.”

“being with you makes me really happy.”

“being with you makes me happier.” you say softly, staring at your hands aligned seamlessly. “do you want to stay here for a bit longer?”

“please.”

“it’s getting late.”

“i know, just a bit longer.” danielle says.

just a bit longer. if only the whole arrangement could last forever, if only you two could be this close and warm for lightyears.

minutes pass, and neither of you move, lost in the comforting silence. the only shift comes when you turn your head to press a gentle kiss into her hair. danielle feels perfectly in place, her heart fluttering at the tender gesture. a soft smile spreads across her face, a silent acknowledgment of the moment's sweetness.

–

the night prior had to be a dream, it was too perfect. it was the realest you’ve felt with danielle, the closest to something romantic. it was even enough to consider that she felt the same, and you’d love to revel in that possibility, but you have to restock the beans and cups quickly before tending to the drinks.

there’s only thirty more minutes until your shift ends, it feels like eternity.

sarah catches you smiling to yourself throughout the shift, biting the inside of her lip. she’s filled with all too much: anger, jealously, dissapointment, and really just everything that makes her uneasy.

she still can’t believe it, you had gone on a whole tangent telling her you couldn’t be in a relationship and now you’re being a complete loser in front of her. she hates it, she wants it to be her that makes you smile randomly throughout the day.

what pisses her off more, and truly makes her lose all hope, is when you go from looking tired and drained to bubbly and smiley as soon as a familiar figure starts walking toward the counter.

she watches you check the time on the register, your smile widening because you can clock out and be with danielle, who’s waiting just across the counter. the change in your demeanor is undeniable, and it stings sarah to see the joy that danielle effortlessly brings out in you.

you walk over to danielle, reaching for her hand. “hey.”

“hi.” the way danielle says it makes your chest warm and sarah nearly gags in return.

what makes sarah's shoulders sink, her heart drop, and her frown deepen is when danielle suddenly kisses your cheek.

the shock is evident on your face as you stand frozen, your hand instinctively moving to hover over the spot where danielle's lips had just been. the tenderness of the moment is overwhelming, and sarah can't help but feel a profound sense of loss. the realization that your heart belongs entirely to danielle crushes any lingering hopes she had, leaving her to face the painful truth.

“w-what was that for?” you look over and make eye contact with sarah, who’s grimacing. “there’s um, you know… bystanders.”

“i missed you, so much. i couldn’t stop thinking about you.” danielle says simply, not bothering that sarah is the only one who’s witnessing this, and from a few feet away too. “do you want to get dinner?”

“it’s three in the afternoon silly.”

“well, anything is fine. we should study before we eat! i heard the module mr. lee assigned us was really helpful for…”

the rest of what danielle says doesn’t register in your coworker’s mind. she studies you closely, her frown deepening with each passing second. it’s painfully clear to her now—you’re genuinely in love with danielle, and there's nothing she can do to change that. the way you look at danielle, like a child seeing a rainbow for the first time, leaves no room for doubt.

it dawns on her that giving up is the only option, and she feels a pang of resignation settling in her chest.

–

nearly three months have passed and both of you have still been ‘pretending.’

neither of you acknowledge that it’s fake, not during the weekly dates, study sessions, and late night walks or movie nights that end up in the two of you falling asleep together. danielle doesn’t think twice when kissing your cheek here and there, even your knuckles when she thinks you’re asleep.

you figure that maybe it’s okay to kiss her cheek too sometimes because she’s her lips turn each time. and when you pick her up for weekly dates, she happily jumps into the passengers seat of your car as if it weren’t just a mutual agreement. sarah has already given up, considering she seems defeated, and you wonder if you should too.

you can’t tell if it’s just how danielle is, which eats you inside. everything feels all too real, and your feelings only grow more unbearable.

–

you shouldn’t have let jimin drag you out to minjeong’s party. she’s already left the moment you stepped into the house, she’s probably gotten a hold of a drink already.

jimin had noticed how deeply stressed you've been lately. your responses were slower, your shoulders seemed permanently slumped, and the stress was practically etched into your face. being one of your closest friends, jimin decided that it was time for a change. she was determined to get you out and help you relax, knowing how crucial it was for your well-being (and social life, to be completely real).

walking around, you scan the crowd for a familiar face. unfortunately, the only people you recognize are sunghoon and jake, who have a history of hitting on you despite your clear disinterest. they still haven't grasped that you're a lesbian. you quickly decide to steer clear of them.

the only reason you’re here is because you’ve been throwing yourself into your studies, staying late at the gym, and doing too much to avoid danielle – or even the thought of her.

(which is unfortunately impossible since every little thing reminds you of her.

the flowers on the counter at your work remind you of her smile, the couch in your apartment is where you two have spent hours together, and really, you’re hopeless.)

you find jimin outside on the porch with her other friends that you’ve only talked to once or twice. they’re all talking about something, clearly tipsy, and you’re walking over to linger near your friend.

“y/n! oh my gosh girl, where have you been? come here, have a drink!” jimin grabs your arm, pulling you in and hugging you like she hasn’t seen you in forever. “here, take a shot.”

she hands you a shot of what you assume is some cheap vodka, you didn’t even have time to pregame for this. you’re not against drinking, not at all, if anything you’re all for it. there’s videos of you in groupchats shotgunning beer and finishing with barely any reaction – but tonight, you don’t know if you’re in the mood for it.

one won’t hurt, maybe it’ll erase danielle from your mind for a moment.

“fine.” you grab the small glass, then bring it to your lips and cock your head back, eyes pinching for a brief moment as you swallow. “shit,” you mumble, “give me another.”

you don’t know what has taken over, because you’re downing two more without hesitation. jimin laughs and smiles proudly at you.

for a brief moment, everything feels fine. the music blasting from inside the house, a mix of charli xcx and the chatter of your friends mocking one of your professors and jake, makes you laugh out loud. amidst the chaos, you find a beer in your hand, and somehow, you manage to tolerate the taste. wonyoung appears too, and hands you another after you quickly finish the first. you accept it, even though you're already starting to feel a bit fuzzy.

jimin looks at minjeong with a sparkle in her eyes, and you subtly push her a little closer until their shoulders touch. they exchange smiles, and you watch, feeling proud of your matchmaking.

your heart sinks as it suddenly reminds you all too much of danielle. the fondness and spark between jimin and minjeong make you frown, your grip on the beer tightening as the bittersweet memories flood back.

“fuck,” you practically whisper. “i need to, i’m going to get more um, drinks.”

“hm? okay.” jimin says quickly, then turns back to the girl she’s linking arms with.

your head pounds, so you gulp down the can of beer in your hand, then crumple it and toss it toward a trash bin in your line of sight.

as you make your way to the kitchen, you spot a bottle of vodka and pour yourself a shot into a plastic cup you found. the liquid burns your throat, intensifying the ache in your head. despite this, you pour another shot, perhaps a bit too generously, hoping to numb the growing pain and the emotions clawing at your heart.

the room feels like it’s spinning, you’re walking down some hall and blinking and blinking until you reach a bathroom. thankfully, no one is making out in it, but you check the shower for safety measures.

you’re finally alone, groaning as you fall against the wall of the bathroom and slide down until you’re sitting on the bathroom floor.

clumsily, you grab your phone from your back pocket. the screen lights up to a picture of you and danielle, cheeks squished together and smiling.

you stare at it for too long, your breath hitching and your vision blurring as the ache in your head intensifies. the happy memory contrasts sharply with the heaviness you feel now, making it all the more difficult to look away. she just looks so cute in it.

you tap your screen again, and another picture of her appears. it’s a picture of her asleep in the passengers seat, head tilted uncomfortably and lips parted slightly. you had set up your lock screen to cycle through images of danielle, initially to fool sarah, but also because seeing danielle’s face as soon as you pick up your phone makes you feel at ease. each photo captures her different expressions—laughing, pouting, lost in thought—and they all make you grin.

the happiness you feel is bittersweet, knowing it’s all part of an arrangement that feels increasingly real to you.

your vision is a little unclear, but somehow it sharpens just so you can see her perfectly.

“fuck,” you gasp out, unlocking your phone and trying to navigate to your recent calls. you had called hanni earlier and she had just been lounging at her place. you figure that she’d be able to take you away from here.

you squint, pressing on the contact that has a and n, assuming it’s hanni, then wait as the phone rings.

“hello?”

“hanni, i’m… can you pick me up?”

“y/n?” her voice is muffled when it reaches your ears, “are you okay? what happened, where are you?”

“jimin… dragged me out. i drank… soooo much.”

“y/n, oh my gosh.”

“hanni, stay on the line, please.”

“i’m not–” the voice cuts off, you drop your phone on the carpet. “hello?”

“you have my location… right.” you slur, head leaning against the wall even more. “hanni i can’t do it anymore.”

“y/n, i’m on my way. are you alright?”

“hanni, i can’t.” you groan, staring up into space. “i don’t want to fake date danielle anymore. it feels too real, i hate it.”

silence follows before you hear the voice on the other end of the phone.

“you can’t? why, why didn’t you tell her?”

“she seems happy, and… we just, don’t acknowledge that it’s not real.”

“y/n…”

danielle sits in her car, heart sinking.

you dialed her on accident, and it doesn't seem like you know it’s her.

“please come. please.”

danielle gulps, feeling tears forming in her eyes.

–

danielle scavenges through the house your location on her phone has brought you to, looking around for you helplessly.

she makes her way to the porch and spots jimin, who’s hands are on minjeongs neck as she holds her in place. danielle walks over, not wanting to disturb the intimacy, but you’re her biggest priority, so she’s willing to do so.

“jimin,”

she turns around, looking at danielle confusingly. “oh, when did you get here?”

“where’s y/n?”

“hmmm… she went to get drinks a while ago, she hasn’t come back yet. try the kitchen?”

“okay, thank you.” danielle says hurriedly, then rushes back inside.

she checks the kitchen, only to see jake and sunghoon with beers in their hands as they cackle loudly. you’re nowhere in sight, making her bite her lip in frustration.

danielle goes through every room on the first floor until she reaches a bathroom. she pushes the door open, and it suddenly stops, hitting someone. a groan escapes from behind the door.

"i'm so sorry!" danielle rushes out, peeking around the door to see who she’s just collided with. "y/n?" she gasps, eyes widening in recognition and concern.

you’re sitting against the wall, hair tousled and cheeks red. there’s a white tank top hugging you, the thin straps of it loose against your skin from your posture.

“hanni?” you look up, squinting. “i wanna go home.”

you see the figure move closer to you and close the door, then she squats down and you realize it’s not hanni. danielle comes into view, her eyebrows creased with concern. your cheeks flush even harder, and your lips part.

she puts a hand on your forehead, then cups her cheeks with both. “are you okay?”

“you’re not… hanni.”

danielle’s shoulders fall down a bit. “hanni um,” danielle hates lying, but she’s doing it now to save you from spiraling. “she sent me over.”

“oh.” the response from you cracks her heart slightly. “okay.”

"let's go," she says firmly, helping you up. despite being taller and more muscular than her, you lean on her for support. danielle manages to steady you with surprising ease, guiding you out of the bathroom and through the house, her grip strong and unwavering.

–

you collapse onto danielle’s couch and groan, your body is limp against the cushions.

a few moments later, she comes back with a cup of water, placing it on the coffee table before she sits you up. she tilts your chin up and you look at her with wonder as she grabs the cup and holds it to your lips, “drink.”

“mhm.” you mumble, sipping slowly and swallowing.

your vision clears slightly, though it might just be danielle who’s grounding you. her concerned eyes meet yours, and while guilt tugs at you, you're also captivated by her beauty in this moment. you're drunk and out of your mind, thoughts muddled and unfocused.

“pretty.” you sigh dreamily.

“y/n,” her voice is laced with uneasiness. “drink more water.”

“okay.”

“and stay the night, okay? you um, left…” she swallows hard, fighting back a frown. “you left your clothes here, i’ll go grab them.”

“can you stay with me though? will you? i really… just… i want you here.”

danielle bites the inside of her lip, her eyes wide with confusion. just moments ago, you had admitted that you wanted to stop the whole ‘relationship’—that it had become too intense, too overwhelming. and now, you’re asking her to stay? her mind spins with the jarring shift in emotions.

you lean in, clinging onto her. danielle feels the warmth of your breath and the softness of your nose brushing against her neck. the touch sends a shiver through her, and she swallows hard, struggling to steady her breathing. as you pull back, your faces are mere inches apart. you lock eyes with her, your gaze heavy with so much.

there’s a lump in her throat. “okay.”

–

danielle wakes up with you on top of her and your head in the crook of her neck. she hears you breathing softly and subconsciously, her hand slides into your hair.

why are you so confusing? danielle wonders, twirling your hair with her pointer finger. is this what you really want?

you’re incredibly considerate, a trait that’s always shone brightly. the way you go out of your way for her—planning dates, cherishing every moment together, simply because it makes her happy—fills her with a bittersweet feeling. she adores these shared moments, savoring the illusion of authenticity. but now that it’s clear that all of it strains you, it weighs heavily on her heart.

you stir awake, your breath warm and rhythmic against danielle's skin. as you hum softly, her cheeks flush a delicate pink. she feels the gentle pressure of your arms tightening around her, pulling her closer. you shift, nestling deeper into her, finding a more comfortable position. each movement sends a shiver through danielle, leaving her heart fluttering like crazy at eight in the morning.

she doesn’t know what to do.

–

danielle doesn’t ask you out or come over the whole week, excusing herself by saying she’s busy or caught up with things. of course, you don’t comment on it – she’s not really your girlfriend, you shouldn’t expect her time and affection.

but then another week passes by and you don’t get any texts back, sometimes she even leaves you on delivered for hours. that’s not like her at all.

you catch her in class and she’s still the same danielle you know – bubbly, pretty, and sweet – but that’s really the only time you see her these days.

it’s confusing, all too confusing, so you barge into hanni’s apartment on a thursday evening because she’s the only one you can rant to about this.

“you didn’t even text me–”

“oh my god i think danielle fucking hates me.”

hanni lets you storm in, walking towards her room and flop onto her own bed. you look devasted, especially when you rub your face in your hands and groan loudly.

“okay, first of all: why the hell would she? second of all: yeah, why… why would she…?”

“she’s been avoiding me and i have no fucking clue why.”

“dude what.”

you recount the entire story to hanni, animatedly illustrating every detail with exaggerated hand gestures. “so, jimin practically dragged me out to unwind, and i ended up drunk out of my mind!” you say. your hands wave dramatically, punctuating the story as you describe stumbling around, the room spinning, and how the whole ordeal felt like a whirlwind.

hanni watches, her amusement growing as you explain the night’s events. “jesus.”

“yeah, and then danielle came and picked me up.”

“she did?”

“yeah… you called her over… didn’t you?”

“dude, what are you talking about.”

you pause, looking at her with confusion evident all over your face. then grab your phone, heart feeling strained when you see danielle posing with a stuffed animal that one time – out of many – you two went to the mall together. you click on the phone app, looking at your recent calls and scrolling down to roughly two weeks ago.

you see hanni’s contact name, and then danielles after.

“hanni, did i… did i call you that night? two weeks ago, the friday night i went out.”

“dude you only called me that morning or something, you left something here.”

“oh my fucking god.” you gasp, putting a hand over your mouth. “oh my god.”

“y/n what.”

“i drunk dialed dani and i thought it was you. she told me you sent her to grab me…”

“what did you say to her?” hanni asks, looking at you with slight worry.

you groan, rubbing your face again. “i… i said i didn’t want to fake date her anymore.”

“oh, well that’s not too bad.”

“no, i remember it somehow. i said i hated it.”

your best friend looks at you, confused again. “you do?”

“yeah, but like, no?” you groan once more and fall onto the bed again. “hanni, i’ve… i’ve liked danielle since first semester.”

“oh.”

“yeah, oh.”

“you’ve been fake dating and simultaneously in love with her?”

you sigh. “yes.”

“holy shit.”

“yeah. i think she took it the wrong way, maybe she thinks i hate her?”

“you need to talk to her.”

“she doesn’t want to see me.”

“no, she’s so fond of you. i honestly think she likes you back.”

“okay it’s not the time for that–”

“shut the hell up bro.” hanni pinches your cheek and you slap her hand away. she begins again, “dude, she rambles about you and shit. there were times i actually thought you guys were really dating.”

“i wish.”

“then make it come true!” hanni groans. she pulls you up, then puts both hands on your shoulder. “you need to go talk to her, stop being a pussy.”

“it’s not that–”

your phone vibrates in your hand, snapping you out of your animated retelling. instinctively, you glance down and see a notification from danielle. hanni notices the shift in your expression, quirking an eyebrow as you stare at the screen, looking visibly distressed. she leans closer, peeking at the notification.

as your face unlocks the phone, the text is revealed: "can you come over? we should talk." your mouth drops open slightly in shock, and hanni mirrors your expression. the room suddenly feels heavy.

“dude.” hanni points at the screen – the obvious. “she–”

“fuck me.” you mutter, “fuck me.”

“dumbass,” hanni says, pushing you off her bed. you curse and look at her with “what the fuck?” written all over your face. hanni stands up and continues to push you out her room, saying, “go see your ‘girlfriend,’ even if it’s not real you better go talk to mo dani.”

you sigh, pushing her off you and grabbing your things before you walk towards hanni’s apartment door. you stare at the handle, then the text, and linger for a moment. hanni puts a hand on your shoulder and you look at her.

“i’m fucking terrified.”

“well you’ll feel even worse if you don’t go, so go.” hanni urges, opening the door and nudging you out.

–

the air is cold, it’s really just cold outside and it makes you shiver more than you already are just from the thought of the interaction.

you’re outside danielle’s work, sitting on the steps because you can’t bring yourself to go in and approach her directly. maybe it makes you a coward, but you’ve always been nervous about seeing her willingly and making the first move. the minutes stretch on, each one making you more anxious, but you can't help it. the thought of facing her, of initiating that crucial conversation, ties your stomach in knots. she called you out here anyway.

wind hits your cheeks and you bite your lip, walking around in your place in an attempt to warm up. then, you catch someone in the corner of your eye, so you turn around and meet danielle.

a loose sweater drapes over her frame, and wide-fit linen pants hide the shape of her legs. the wind tousles her hair just as it does yours, but she looks effortlessly angelic, stopping your heart for a moment. her hair, caught in the breeze, frames her face in a way that makes her seem almost ethereal, temporarily making you forget your worries.

then she’s walking toward you, and you remember why you’re here.

you swallow hard, body tensing.

“thank’s for coming, i’m sorry i haven’t been.. um, able to spend time with you.” she looks nervous, her eyes avoiding yours and hands fiddling with each other. she stares at your necklace instead as she continues, “i’ve just… i wanted to talk to you about what we have.”

“right, i wanted to talk to you about it too.”

“oh,” danielle says quietly. “i’m sorry, i didn’t want to be a burden. you called me instead of hanni the night you got drunk and i know how you feel about fake dating. i’m sorry that you had to do it with me and it caused you so much stress i just–”

your heart aches as you listen to her ramble, guilt evident in her voice for something that’s not her fault. you can't bear to hear her blame herself. your brows furrow with pity as you gently cut her off, “danielle, no, let me–”

“stop, i want to make myself clear. i want to explain a lot of things to you, you’re so lovely and sweet and you don’t deserve to be so stressed. it’s just, okay, wait.”

she pauses, breathing in, and looking at you with tears lining her eyes. your breath shakes looking at her like that, you can’t breathe or speak in the moment.

danielle purses her lips before continuing, “okay, when hanni first said you wanted to date me, i got so excited because well, i always thought you were cute.” she turns her head to the side and bites her lip before looking back at you. “and then you said it wasn’t an actual date, you wanted it to be fake. i don’t know i just, i felt really sad when it happened but at the same time the thought of fake dating you didn’t seem too bad because i’m selfish and i mean, i liked you a little and i thought i could just fake it and revel in the artificial aspect until i got over it but i ended up falling for you so much and i’m sorry. i don’t want you to think im anything like sarah–”

“danielle, stop.”

“no, y/n i just want to explain myself–”

“danielle, shut up, oh my god.” you gasp, looking at her in disbelief. “you, are you fucking with me?”

she looks at you, still feeling guilty. when she blinks, two tears fall down her cheeks and she inhales sharply as she conceals a sob. she turns away, then murmurs, “no, i’m so sorry.”

“n-no, no. dani, danielle.” you almost breathe it out, then bring both hands to hold her face. your hands cup her cheeks making her face you. “please stop crying, i’m sorry, baby, i’m sorry.”

“b-baby?” she says, confusing taking over her features. you had gotten so used to calling her endearing pet names that it slipped out so suddenly in the heat of the moment.

the lights outside shine just enough for you to see her clearly. her eyes are watery, tears staining her cheeks, and you use your thumb to gently wipe them away. her nose is a little pink, and so are her cheeks. of course, she’s a pretty crier too, but you look at her with guilt, shaking your head as you continue to stroke her cheeks with your thumb. the sight of her like this breaks your heart even more.

“i only said i hated it because it was all too real, but not in a bad way. not at all.”

“really?” she says between sniffles. “w-what do you mean?”

“i’m saying that,” you use your thumb to rub a tear threatening to fall from the corner of her eye. “i hated it because i couldn’t take the fact that it wasn’t real. i wanted it to be real. danielle, i’ve wanted to be yours since you first gave me the notes from the first lecture we had together.”

“what?”

“danielle,” you almost whisper, then kiss her forehead. “i like you so much. i don’t hate you, or this – i hate that it’s not real.”

her mouth opens in shock as she looks at you, sniffling. you anxiously wait for a response, hoping she'll say something, but she doesn’t. instead, she hugs you, wrapping her arms around you tightly. you return the embrace, holding her just as tight. the world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you in the nerveracking moment.

“i like you too – a lot. i was so scared when you said you hated it, i thought i was making you uncomfortable and gosh i just felt so bad and–”

you rub her back with your hand and cut her off, “i was anything but uncomfortable, i felt like i was living in a fantasy.”

“thank god.” danielle sighs in relief.

you pull away, looking at her again and wiping remnants of tears with your thumb again. “i’m sorry for making you cry.”

if you could go back and punch yourself for being stupid — you’d do it in a heartbeat. a dumb slip up and miscommunication from your lips is the reason danielle’s nose is still tinted pink from crying, you feel guilty as ever.

in your hands, it feels like you hold the world. she shakes her head in your hold, then smiles from relief.

“it’s okay.”

“are you busy after this?”

danielle giggles, shaking her head again. “if you’re asking me out on a date – a real one – then absolutely not.”

“dinner? it’s on me for being stupid that night, and this whole time.”

“perfect.”

you smile sweetly at her, your gaze lingering on her lips. before you know it, you lean in and boldly peck her right then and there. she gasps when you pull away, looking at you with widened eyes as you back off. but then, she reels you in again, leaning closer and kissing you once more. the kiss is soft and warm, filled with all the unspoken words and emotions that have built up between you. you feel her smile against your lips, and everything else fades away.

when you part again, you look at her fondly and ask, “wait, this is real, right? like, we’re…”

danielle laughs, hastily pecking you once more and lingering close.

“i don’t think it’s the alcohol that made you so dense and stupid.”

#kpop x reader #danielle marsh x reader #danielle x reader #danielle marsh #newjeans x reader #new jeans x reader #mo jihye #mo jihye x reader #newjeans fluff #newjeans danielle #newjeans imagines

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azuremist · 1 year ago

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Mainseries Pokemon characters who can be argued to be bisexual-coded (due to their implied crush on the player)

1. Shauna (Pokemon X and Y)

Kalos takes place in France, and Paris is the city of love. So, in the words of Junichi Masuda, "I wanted to implement some elements of romance with Shauna when playing as a boy and express a deep friendship when playing as a girl."

However, due to the VERY few dialogue changes between female vs male protags (as well as actions Shauna takes that are intended to imply romantic interest being the same across all player types, such as her staying behind with the player in the early-game forest), this can be argued to be unintentional bisexual-coding.

2. Lillie (Pokemon Sun and Moon)

Lillie is implied to have a crush on the player. When the player character is female, on Exeggutor Island, she says, "I want to become a Trainer, and learn all the things you know, Selene..." When the player character is male, she says, "I think... I'd like to become a Trainer, too. And travel together with you, Elio..."

Obviously, the difference between these two dialogues makes it pretty clear that they want her dialogue with Elio to be interpreted as more romantically-inclined. However, much like Shauna, Lillie's actions and dialogue varying VERY little otherwise between female vs male protags can be read as unintentional bisexual-coding.

3. Kieran

Kieran is the first character here to receive absolutely zero dialogue changes across player gender. Additionally, I'd say he's the character that we get the strongest hints regarding romantic feelings towards the player with.

Kieran has multiple moments where he's implied to feel romantically towards the player. These include, but are not limited to:

His sister saying that he's "been all googly-eyed over you" since you met, and that he "wouldn't stop talking about you - even at home. I seriously couldn't get him to shut up." Kieran reacts with embarrassment when she says this to the MC.

Him saying, "You're...you're special," before pausing, then getting embarrassed and rushing to change the subject.

When the MC calls him a friend, he responds, "What?! R-really?! We're friends? F-friends... I feel all tingly and funny hearing that... Ehehe..."

After the MC changes into their festival outfit, Kieran says, "Whoa...", when seeing them for the first time.

The player can even seemingly flirt with Kieran; when Kieran describes letting Ogerpon move into his home, the player can teasingly ask when they, themself, can move in with Kieran.

These are all very common romantic tropes. I think Kieran is the closest thing that we have to a canonically bisexual mainline character at this moment.

4. Carmine

Carmine has a fewer number of specific moments compared to her brother, but she can still be easily read as having feelings for the player.

Her extreme reaction to Drayton asking the player on a date is the best example, with her bringing her hands up to her face, and saying, "A wha-?!" Once Drayton leaves, Carmine continues fuming. (This can also be chalked up to her general dislike towards Drayton and how he can be manipulative, but the fact that it's that request that sets her off specifically makes this also easily read as jealousy.)

And speaking of...

5. Drayton

While, like Kieran and Carmine, Drayton doesn't have any dialogue changes between if the player is male and female, it's not really clear how he actually feels about them.

He tells the player, male or female, that they can go on a cafeteria date to talk, which the game fully acknowledges as a romantic phrase via Carmine's extreme reaction. He also tells the player, "From one charming catch to another..."

This is very obviously him flirting with the player, but, due to his laid-back and just-a-liiittle-bit-sleazy nature, this more so comes across as him trying to tease the player character, rather than anything earnest.

If nothing else, he's at least confirmed to be comfortable with romantically teasing male classmates, which I would consider a win.

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chlorinecake · 5 months ago

Text

— GYM BROS | 20th birthday special for @wonbinisbabygurl

⚡︎ PAIRINGS : fitness trainer!chaemin x gym rat!sungchan x subby!wonbin x desperate fem!reader

⚡︎ PLOT : in search for a hot body to match your plans for a hot girl summer, you seek out the council of your city’s most famous fitness trainer, Lee Chaemin… however, you never would’ve guessed that his intentions to get you in shape would turn out to be a team effort…

⚡ ︎WARNINGS : BIG DICK AGENDA, foursome, sungchan's kind of a perv in this, wonbin’s on the subby side, and chaemin's somewhat mean!dom coded, kissing, breath play, spanking/marking, dry humping, finger sucking, praise & degrading kink, oral (m. r) & fingering (f. r.), cum eating & breeding kink, ft. aespa’s ningning

⚡︎ WORD COUNT : 5.8k | co-written w/ the lovely @squoxle !

THERE HAD BEEN a time in your life where guys often threw themselves at you, gracing you with compliment after compliment in hopes that you’d spare them a prolonged glance… or perhaps, even a chance at hooking up with you somehow…

But then, your high school graduation happened, and coming up promptly on the adulthood menu, college applications and job searching.

Academia was simply something you weren’t interested in at the moment, so you took the work route, being employed at a 9-5 desk job until you got sick of that and terminated your contract before the summer.

Now, introducing your best friend Ningning Yizhou, someone you’ve known since high school yet only recently reconnected with within that past six months.

Your bond flourished as if time and personal journeys had never even separated you two, which is precisely why you found yourself where you were today:

Enjoying a sunny afternoon while walking arm-in-arm beside her, exploring the side shops of an outdoor strip mall from a distance…

The sunlight casted long shadows of the surrounding trees across the worn asphalt pathways trailing from the boutiques, the air meddling with scents of freshly cut grass, expensive perfumes, and tasty treats from the nearby food stands.

Back to Ningning though, the poor girl just wouldn’t stop raving about this new workout program she found online, excitedly informing you on all the details about this celebrity status fitness trainer who co-owned the company.

A strand of her long black hair danced in the wind as you both continued to stroll the area, her dainty sunglasses framing her round face as she nudged your shoulder slightly.

“Girl, you gotta try this with me,” she protested in between taking a sip of the fruit smoothie she held in her free grasp.

“Oh, come on ____,” Ningning whined this time, “how are we supposed to have a hot girl summer if we’re not looking like hot girls?!… The math is basic, to be honest…”

You let a soft sigh escape your lips as your gaze fell down towards the hoodie you wore, its fabric feeling heavier than usual, acting as a direct testament to your own lacking commitment to fitness.

“I’m just not too comfortable with the idea of wasting my money on some poor excuse for a fitness trainer,” you sulked, the sweet and icy nectar of your berry blast smoothie providing you with an extra layer of comfort beneath the blazing afternoon heat.

It had been far too long since you’d laced up your sneakers to exercise, your body looking a little too soft for your liking especially on top of the sedentary job you worked for months.

“Well, the lady who runs the program says that her trainers are licensed professionals,” Ningning continued passionately, despite the uninterested look on your face.

“Uh huh,” you nodded plainly, “and by that, you mean she hires people who wasted their money getting a license to help people do push ups, right?”

“Look, if we sign up now, we can get our first month free,” she stated, halting the pace of her steps to turn and face you directly this time, “so do you wanna do this with me or not?…”

The pressure was starting to kick in now, and although you had been trying to keep up your stubborn act for as long as you could, all of Ningning’s talk about sculpted abs, toned legs, and the perfect bubble butt was enough to spark even the smallest flicker of appeal within you.

It was a simple fact, really… like most women, you wanted to get in the best shape of your life this summer, possibly granting you a much needed injection of excitement into your otherwise mundane single life.

“Fine, I’ll join the stupid program,” you rolled your eyes sarcastically, a bright smile creeping across Ningning’s lips as she cheered for joy, exposing her cute round teeth.

“Yes! Hot girl summer, here we come!”

You let yourself giggle at your friends enthusiasm, her energetic aura always having a way of radiating onto you anyways…

And yes, you still felt a bit hesitant about venturing back into the gym after such a long hiatus, but with a little push, a little sweat, and a little confidence, you were ready to accept that maybe this whole workout thing was exactly what you both needed…

AFTER AGREEING TO enroll into the program, you decided to do a little research on your own back at home, and from what you could tell, the website looked fairly promising.

“Once I joined, I just couldn’t stop coming,” one review read, another following comment stating that they couldn’t remember the last time their bodies looked 'this great.'

And strangely enough, you found yourself convinced from that alone, jotting in your name, age, and other necessary credentials on the website's "SIGN UP" front page.

Wrapping a hoodie around your waist, you slipped into your fitness shoes, tossing your gym bag over your shoulder and making your way to your first fitness class.

Initially, you were under the impression that your trainer would be another girl by default, so you didn’t put too much effort into your appearance.

To be honest, your outfit was giving more of a “I just fell out of bed on a lazy sunday and decided to go for a jog” look rather than “Oh my God, this is my first workout class and I wanna make a good impression!”

Not like you cared all that stuff anyways, though... you were here to work up a sweat and get your dream body, not win a fashion competition.

Sprinkling a peach flavored electrolyte pack into your 40 ounce water bottle, you gave it a few shakes in your hand, watching closely as the powder dissolved before taking a sip and walking into the daunting building ahead of you—

“Alrighty, it looks like you’re all set, Miss ____. Your personal trainer will be waiting for you in the Private Training Room, code number 210B,” the older lady at the front desk smiled, straightening out the consumer information sheet you had just filled out and sliding it into the file drawer beside her.

“Ok, cool! And I'm sorry, but where do I go from here?”

“Just take that elevator to the second floor, hun. From there, you're gonna need to take a right, and room 10 should be right there!”

“Ok, thanks,” you nodded in a friendly voice before walking off, deciding within yourself that you'd take the stairwell instead of the elevator given the long line of people waiting there.

That's when the sound of humming treadmills, heavy metal clinks, and a mix of strained grunts hit your ears as you navigated around the second floor, taking a right turn just as the receptionist advised.

And there it was... Room 210B in all of its mysterious glory.

Your eyes wandered down to the soft natural light peeking from beneath the door, the handle twisting with a gentle creak as you walked in.

“Hi! You must be ____,” a deep male voice immediately greeted you. “I’ll be your fitness instructor and personal body trainer for the entirety of this program,” the man went on with a smile, extending his hand to shake yours, “My name is Lee Chaemin, but you can just call me Chae or Coach.”

What the actual fuck, you thought to yourself, struggling to properly return the handshake given the way your eyes ogled at him now.

He was criminally attractive, and you doubted wholeheartedly that you'd be able to function efficiently in his presence, let alone under his piercing gaze—

“V-very nice to meet you,” you somehow managed to choke out, making him quirk a brow at your flustered demeanor before going on to outline the criteria of your workout plan.

But your inner thoughts... God, they had gotten so loud that you could hardly even process a single word that escaped his lips, imagining within yourself how nice his hands would feel while wrapped around your neck...

At this point, you had completely missed the part where you were supposed to answer his question.

“Huh? I mean uh- Sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked if you had any particular body goals in mind?” He repeated with a faint chuckle, eyes flattening out into pretty crescents as he tilted his head at you.

Shit, his smile is absolutely perfect—

“Hmm... I mainly just wanna tone up and lose some body fat, y’know?”

“Yea, of course... in that case, we’ll start you out with some basics so I can get an idea of your current strength... then, we can work our way up from there,” he said, just as he made his way over to the wall and grabbed two yoga mats.

“I’ll demonstrate the poses and you can just cop me. Don’t worry if it feels a little awkward at first, I’ll guide you into position if you need,” he smiled again, laying down the mats for you two.

You joined him on the ground now, eyes following the movements of his body as twisted into various different stretches before finally coming to one that nearly knocked you off your feet.

“Oh, hold on! I gotchya,” he huffed, grabbing hold of your waist as you bent over with your legs spread apart. Even though you knew he wasn’t doing anything intentionally, you couldn’t help but internally melt at the feeling of him standing behind you like this...

Eventually though, your stretching period was finished, following up with a few simple pilate-like exercises and a mile run on the treadmill right after.

Fairly easy enough for my first day, you thought to yourself again, noting that if there was anything you learned today, it was that this Chae guy or whatever the hell he wanted you to call him, was sickeningly sexy, or in other words, just the extra vessel of visual motivation you needed to keep going on this journey...

BY THE END of the first week, you had changed up your wardrobe completely, not wanting any extra fabric to get in the way of you copping a feel here and there.

Besides, wearing a tight pair of yoga leggings with a mini crop top was much better suited for your hot girl aesthetic versus your usual hoodie and baggy gym pants.

As expected though, the next few classes became progressively more challenging... similarly to the rock hard bulge resting behind Chaemin's pants.

You were already seeing some promising results, too, despite how it had only been a few weeks since you first started... Ningning was in a more dance-focused class than yours, but her results were just as amazing, making this little hot girl duo between you two really worth the effort.

Unfortunately though, your free trial was coming to an end soon, so with the last few hours you got to spend with Chaemin every week, you hoped there'd be a chance for you to get a little something more out of him.

“See ya after class, babes,” Ningning waved with her typically warm and optimistic energy, making you flash her an equally friendly smile as you waved her off in the same manner, walking off into Private Training Room.

“Today’s gonna be a little different,” your trainer started to speak as soon as you opened the door.

“Different how?” You asked, sliding your gym bag from over your shoulder and placing it on the carrier shelves beside you.

“Well,” he continued in between clearing his throat, “one of my friend’s will be joining us in the room today, if you don't mind... He’s a personal trainer, too.”

Your eyes widened slightly as his words as a neutral pout overcame your features. “Oh, well yea, I don't have a problem with that,” you reassured him, making Chaemin flash you a thankful smile as you got started on laying down the yoga mats, just as Chaemin reached in his gym shorts pocket to pull out his phone.

“Perfect... I'll get started with you in a bit, though... I'm just texting him to verify how much longer it's gonna be before he gets here–”

“Hope I didn't keep you waiting too long,” a new voice called out from beside you as the room door slung open, the sound of layered footsteps hitting your ears as the newcomer invited himself into the space, cutting Chaemin off mid-sentence.

“Oh- Hey, Chan! I was just about to text you,” Chaemin let himself chuckle slightly before dapping up his friend.

“____, this is Sungchan, the trainer I was telling you about earlier...”

“Nice to meet you, ____,” Sungchan nodded with a gentle smile, a feeling of butterflies rushing through your lower stomach aa you found yourself having to look up to meet his face.

That's when the source of the second pair of footsteps became clear to you, just as a slightly shorter but equally as attractive guy joined the space.

“Wonbin,” the third boy introduced himself plainly, voice a bit feathery as he nervously shook your hand.

“Don’t worry. We shouldn’t bother y’all too much. Me and Won are gonna be training over here, but if you need anything just let me know, okay?” Sungchan went on, looking directly into your eyes, practically knocking you off your feet.

“Cool! Me and ____ are gonna get started over here, then,” Chaemin clapped as you started your first round of cardio, which today turned out to be a 10 minute jump roping circuit to help warm you up.

Chaemin kept track of the time as usual in between barking out a few words of encouragement, even though you could definitely tell another set of eyes were on you...

Glancing in one of the mirrors, you caught onto to the way Sungchan shamelessly stared at your body as you jumped up and down, a small smirk staining his features as the sheen of sweat decorated you slightly exposed chest now.

He was supposed to be spotting Wonbin at the bench press, but he just couldn’t take his eyes off of you for the life of him, almost in disbelief at the way you clearly started to put on a little show for him, letting your breath come out in high-pitched pants as you continued jumping.

“Nice work, ____,” Chaemin exclaimed as your timer went off, right before he suggested that you work on a bit of strength training for the next 30 minutes.

“I think I need a little more time to calm down before I hit the weights, Coach,” you huffed out tiredly, explaining to him that it'd be better if you just worked on something a little less strenuous for the time being...

Glutes.

Of course, Chaemin wasn't going to make you overwork yourself, especially since you claimed to be feeling a bit more spent than usual...

By now, you had fully memorized the glute routine he made you do twice every week, including a rep of squat variations, lunges, bridge lifts, and fire hydrants.

Chaemin usually stood behind you whenever you did squats, guiding your waist with the lightest touch he could to make sure your form was on point.

This time though, you noticed that he wasn't even within three-feet of your presence, having his backed turned to you as you pushed out your first set of sumo squats, watching him walk even further away in the mirror ahead of you.

“Hey, where're you headed?” You asked through slightly labored breaths, still counting in the back of your mind how many squats you had done so far...

“Oh, I just gotta take care of something really quick... Sungchan'll be here if you need him for anything.”

“Alright then,” you nodded, feeling that familiar burning sensation course through your hips, “take your time!”

“Thanks,” he replied, walking over to where Sungchan stood near Wonbin and exchanging a few words with him that you couldn't make out through all of Wonbin's grunting, leaving to room shortly after.

Twenty-eight... twenty-nine... thirty, you lazily counted out each squat in your head, letting yourself take a few conscious breaths just as Sungchan made his way over to you now.

“Looks like it’s gonna be just you and me then, huh?” he began with a smirk, scanning your body with his eyes.

“Well... not exactly,” you returned quietly, peeking over his shoulder to find Wonbin adjusting a pair of headphones over his head.

“He's not one to bother people, trust me... It’ll be like he’s not even here,” Sungchan reassured you, just as he ran a hand through his shaggy hair and walked closer towards you, “Now... I say we freestyle a bit and try out a few exercises you've probably never done before, yeah?”

The word 'intrigued' didn’t even begin to describe the way you felt right now... the look on his face was so mysterious yet so telling at the same time... you could hardly make any sense of his behavior, but you had a pretty good feeling his mind was on the same thing as your own wandering one:

A quick fuck sometime with no strings-attached.

His heads rested at your shoulders now as he positioned himself behind you. “Let’s start with a stretch first since you just finished a pretty intense cardio set,” he suggested with a slight rasp to his voice, a familiar and alluring feeling washing over you as he spread your legs apart with a strong hand.

“This will help stretch out your hip flexors,” he continued, keeping his touch secured around your inner thighs. “Just get down as low as you can for me, 'kay? You can stop if anything starts to hurt...”

You couldn't help but blush a bit at his choice of words, following his instructions carefully as you squatted down as far as you could, poking your hips out a bit before coming back up to a standing position.

“So,” his still voice sounded from behind you, “you enjoying this little program so far?”

“Yeah, actually... I had low expectations in the beginning, but it's turning out to be a really good thing for me,” you answered while peddling your feet, hands glued to the floor.

“Oh, cool! That's always good to hear... What do you think about Chaemin, though?”

“What about him?” You returned with a bit of confusion to your tone.

“Well... I'm just curious to know if he’s been a little… touchy with you,” Sungchan hummed as you laid on your back, forcing your legs apart gently with his hands as your breath hitched slightly.

“I uh…well... not really,” you exhaled through your nose, feeling the sudden pull in your muscles.

“Oh?... I would’ve expected something different from him,” Sungchan shrugged while pushing his weight into your thighs even more... the position was already a bit erotic in itself, but it really didnt help now that his bulge had grazed up against the growing wetness behind your yoga pants, making your stomach tighten with need.

And it was written all over his adorably mischievous face, too... how much he enjoyed stretching you out passed your limits—

“Ngh!” You winced through furrowed brows, slightly turning your head to the side with your hands framing your head on the yoga mat.

He chuckled softly, letting his eyes wander from the sight of your puffy pussy poking through your leggings before making eye contact with you suddenly. “Sorry about that... Let’s work on a different position...”

You shook the tightness out of your legs before standing to your feet, letting Sungchan guide your body into a downward dog position, leaving your ass high up in the air and your legs spread wide open to the point where almost nothing was left to the imagination now...

You're not sure why, but every single thing this guy said or did in this moment was turning you on... from his voice, his body, and even to his scent, Sungchan had you fully enthralled by him in just a matter of minutes—

“So,” he started again, “how long have you been training with Chae for?”

“Just a few weeks,” you huffed back, voice a bit tight given the stretch you felt in your spine.

“Really? That’s impressive,” Sungchan exclaimed from behind you, eyes obviously falling to the view of your cleavage in the mirror ahead before flickering back up, “your physique already looks so amazing, ____.”

“Please,” you scoffed, a warm feeling erupting in your stomach given how close he was to you, “but I appreciate the compliment, Channie… your friend Chaemin’s a pretty good coach, y'know…”

“Yea, that might be true, but,” Sungchan’s voice trailed off in the same manner that his hands trailed from your thighs, applying pressure to your lower back as he forced you abdomen closer to the ground, “he can be a little mean with his clients, if you ask me…”

In all honesty, you didn't fully understand why Sungchan kept bringing up Chaemin, but you couldn't say you disagreed with his opinions about him...

Chaemin did have his moments where he was a little tough on you, but the horny slut inside you didn't mind his dominance, anyways...

“Agreed,” you sighed, letting your muscles relax into the position, “but if he’s so mean and what not... what does that make you?”

“A well-balanced personal trainer,” Sungchan replied with pride almost instantly, “considering that Chae often forgets to include the ‘personal’ aspect when it comes to fitness… he’s more—”

“Physical... like you said,” you budded in for him, making Sungchan chuckle, “and you’re personal… gotchya…”

“But what’s your preference?” He asked, voice falling a little closer to your ear as he forced his palm into your back even further, the curve of your ass sitting right at his front.

You knew there was more to Sungchan's question than what met the surface…

Briefly reasoning within yourself, you moved from the stretching position, turning to face Sungchan as you leaned towards him.

“I suppose I’m open to both,” you whispered seductively, resting your hand just inches away from the mound between his legs.

His breath got caught in his chest now as your hand started to tread even closer to his center, moving upwards until you suddenly stopped, looking back into his eyes. “Think you can meet both those needs for me… Channie?” You went on in a voice soft as silk yet as seductive as a siren, batting your eyelashes at him as he licked his lips slightly.

“How about this... I’ll offer you a free trial before we make anything official,” Sungchan whispered, trying to keep his lingo as indirectly suggestive as possible, “but it’s only a limited time offer…”

His voice faded away, just as the eye contact he held with you wandered off to the wall bench just a few feet from you both on the stretching mat.

And before you could even turn to meet his face again, he was already standing up, flashing you a knowing expression as he walked to the bench, taking a seat and shamelessly manspreading right before your eyes.

He reached for his water bottle sitting on the ground, raising the liquid to his lips and taking a few gulps, your eyes watching the line of veins trailing up his sculpted neck and shoulders as you simply accepted that fact that you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore…

Not while this horny, of course...

Besides, if there’s anything a hot girl did best it was hot girl shit, annd you’d be a fool to let Sungchan sit there and do nothing about the boner obviously growing behind his gym pants.

Limited time offer, huh? You thought to yourself before standing up from the mat, zipping down your workout top a bit to let your tits breathe.

Well it’s a good day to be impatient…

You climbed onto Sungchan's lap, wrapping your thighs around him as you felt him pressing into your core, a feeling that excited you more than you cared to admit.

"Oh so we're doing this now?" The tall boy asked, smiling as you got comfortable on top of him.

"As if this wasn't the goal since you set your eyes on me," you smirked, leaning in to kiss his plump lips.

Sungchan hummed within the contact, letting his eyes flutter shut before speaking...

"You just look so fucking hot in these yoga pants," he mumbled with your lower lip snug between his teeth before lightly pulling away "can’t wait to get ‘em off you..." he continued raspily, gripping at your hips before kneeding the flesh there in his hands.

In the midst of all this, Wonbin was completely oblivious to what you and Chan were up to, too focused on pushing out his final reps of bench presses, silver headphones secured tightly around his sweat-drenched mane as a certain tune blasted in his ears.

That’s when he caught onto the faint sounds bleeding beyond the audio from his headset, plain curiosity getting the best of him as he hooked the barbell back to its power rack, ending his set to get a peek at his surroundings.

He took off his headphones and sat them neatly on the equipment, giving his damp hair a slight shake before turning his head to the noise behind him, only to find a breathless you situated in Sungchan’s lap.

The eldest flashed Wonbin a look with the most shit-eating grin plastered across his deer-like features as your tongues intertwined sloppily, even though Wonbin’s attention had clearly darted toward your ass by now, both enticed by and shocked at the way you grinded against his friend’s lap so shamelessly.

You soon noticed the way Sungchan’s face wandered from yours slightly, provoking you to turn for yourself to see exactly what had caught his attention.

And there he was, an utterly flabbergasted Wonbin meeting your eyes with his own hesitant ones, an even more evident bulge resting behind his gym shorts now as blood rushed to the tip of his cock, getting harder and harder with every breath he took.

Sungchan returned his lips to your neck now, nibbling at the skin there while still keeping a grip on your tight ass, "Don't think I can wait much longer baby..." he groans against you, almost as if the taste of you alone was making him hungrier for any sort of stimuli.

"What are you waiting for then, big boy?... it's not like anyone here has a problem with us... isn't that right, Binnie?" You pressed, biting your lip while looking the reluctant boy up and down.

But Wonbin remained quiet, only giving you a shyly desperate look as his lips part slightly, making way for his tongue to run over his lips greedily.

He felt like he had never contemplated something so hard in his entire life while in this moment.

"C’mon, don’t be shy… you can join us if you like..." you continued, flashing Wonbin your signature blowjob eyes as Sungchan obviously began to appear a bit thrown off by the boldness of your offer towards his friend, making his plush lips cease from marking you for a moment despite his initial playfulness…

Still, and oddly enough, Wonbin’s nervous demeanor had a way of exciting Sungchan even more, especially with how dirty you and him were getting during what was intended to be your training period.

"Get over here, Won... she doesn't bite as much as I do..." Sungchan mustered encouragingly, even though Wonbin’s feet were already moving towards you two at the wall bench.

He sat down next to you both, watching dumbly as you suddenly stopped grinding against Sungchan’s lap.

"W-...what do I do?" He asked timidly, fidgeting with his fingers in his lap as you simply smiled back at the gorgeous men before you.

"Pull your pants down," you said bluntly, "both of you..."

And with that command, it didn't take long for Wonbin to start working with the waist tie of his shorts, pulling at the strings and sliding the fabric past his hips.

And once you climbed off of Sungchan’s lap, he proceeded to do the same, hooking his thumbs at the hem of his pants before shimmying them down like you asked.

You got on your knees between them, exchanging one more look of consent before taking their sensitive members in your hands, alternating between either stroking them or letting their dicks take turns basking in the warmth of your skilled mouth.

The sounds of their pleased grunts and hums layering over each other was more than enough to get your pussy dripping with need.

You admired the feeling of Wonbin’s long and pretty cock gliding down your throat while also savoring the girth of Sungchan’s throbbing dick as you pumped him in your fist at the same time.

The eldest of the two had his mouth hung open, head thrown back against the wall as his hips lifted into your hand, desperate for more friction than what was already being offered…

And on the other hand, Wonbin tried to keep his lip bitten firmly between his teeth as an attempt to hold in his moans, only to fail miserably once you licked around a certain spot along his shaft... his sweet spot…

"Oh, you like that baby?" You asked rhetorically, watching as his chest began to heave with each stroke of your tongue against his log of nerves, his lustful eyes wandering to the sight behind you as another person invited themselves to witness the filthy scene ahead.

It was none other than Coach Chaemin, who judging from the outside, appeared as though he practically expected this to happen… finding a horny you slutting it out with his close mates in the private training room at the first opportunity you got...

Still, he wasn't gonna let you get away that easily without first inserting himself into the fun... and I mean that quite literally, here.

Chaemin kneeled himself behind you, tugging down your yoga pants and landing a hard smack to the curve of your ass, snickering at the fact that you didn't even have panties on.

And it all happened so fast that you didn't even have a chance to react properly before his thick fingers were lodged inside you, curling against the spongy spot that never failed to make your back arch.

"F-fuckkk," you mewled erotically, turning your head back to find your trainer fucking his digits into your heat, this more openly dirty side of him finally coming out to play...

"Turn back around," he ordered, just as Sungchan already helped himself to guiding your chin back to face him, shoving your lips over his cock and hitting the back of your moist den with his tip.

His veins were even more pronounced now as intense pleasure coursed through every cell in his 6-foot-something body, gently smacking his cock through the side of your cheek to tease you.

"Shhh," he cooed facetiously as your teary eyes met his taunting ones, the mascara you put on earlier bleeding at the corner of your eyes as your grip around Wonbin's cock tightened with your growing urge to gag.

Sungchan went on, almost chuckling now as he slowly pushed your head further down his length, whispering within the mere air separating you two, "You like choking around my dick, huh pretty girl? Like it when I stuff your mouth so full with my cock that you can’t even think straight, don’t you?”

All you could do was dumbly nod around him, eventually gasping out loud once he finally released your head from his hold, giving you a moment to catch your breath.

But at this point, Wonbin was already spilling his load over your freshly manicured fingers, a reddish hue rushing to his cheeks out of embarrassment of how fast he came.

He stuttered out your name in between his hiccupy moans, Chaemin’s narrowed eyes catching sight of the sticky situation, just as he landed a wet smack against your ass again with the same hand he just fingered you with.

"Lick it up, babyface… or else my fingers are all you're getting from here..." Chaemin ordered in a deep and almost threatening tone, making you clench your pussy around nothing as he slid his hand beneath your workout top, smacking your tits as a means to encourage you.

And already being too desperate for the lost feeling of his fingers inside you, you leaned over Wonbin’s lap almost immediately, clinging to his toned thighs as you lapped at the pearly release, making his abs clench at the returned stimulation.

"So fucking hot," Sungchan mumbled, fisting himself at an aggressive pace as you kept catching Wonbin’s cum on your extended tongue, keeping eye contact with him the entire time as he groaned out his high, gently caressing the side of your face.

“You’re unreal, ____,” the long haired boy hummed, almost feeling lovesick at the way you kept licking at him.

Being so distracted in the way Wonbin gazed at you in this strangely intimate moment, you didn’t even realize that Chaemin had already slipped his shorts down, letting a bit of spit dribble from his tongue to help coat his length before sliding it into you.

The stretch genuinely caught you off guard, a shaky whimper slipping past your lips as you covered your mouth, trying to hold in your cries.

“Aww, too big for you, sweetie?” Chaemin taunted, watching the way your pussy practically struggled to take all of him, but he didn’t care, knowing that it’d only be a matter of time before you started begging for more.

“I can be gentle if you want me too… is that what you want?” He went on, landing another smack to your tits as he leaned closer to your ear, nibbling at the flesh there.

You couldn’t even attempt to get a word out once you felt his length slide further into you, amazed in your own mind that the stretch you felt earlier was only from half of his cock.

“Didn’t think so,” Chaemin smirked, his dick twitching at the tightness your hole provided before moving away from your ear, grabbing hold of your hips again as he slowly started to move inside you.

“Move your hand, angel,” Sungchan mumbled again, desperate to hear any more sounds from you to help him reach his high. “Need to come so fucking bad, baby… open your mouth for me,” he groaned, letting you take his tip in your mouth as your sealed your lips around him, only to break away suddenly as Chaemin thrusted roughly into you this time, grunting at the pleasure.

“Fuck, you’re pussy’s perfect… so tight,” he said with a rasp voice, struggling to stop himself from fucking you any faster than your tightness could take, “afraid I might split you open if I keep going, princess…”

All you could do was whine pathetically as Chaemin kept thrusting into you from behind, a burning sensation mixing with the growing pleasure from his length stretching you out.

“F-fuckk- Shit!” Sungchan groaned desperately, jerking his cock to the point where his seed ended up making a much bigger mess than intended, spurts of his cum getting everywhere but in your eyes at this point.

Your hands still rested at Wonbin and Sungchan’s thighs, and although Wonbin seemed a bit relaxed now, he was simply waiting for his next chance to get off, Sungchan slowly relieving his cock from the relentless strokes of his own hand before leaning down to kiss you, moaning at the taste of himself in your mouth mixing with your saliva.

Wonbin watched closely as his friend's tongue ran up against yours in the messy contact, the sight doing nothing but making the poor boy stiff all over again.

“Hey… wanna take a turn?” Chaemin asked Wonbin through a breathless voice, his question almost getting lost between the series of whines spilling from your mouth, Sungchan’s hand holding your face in place as he looked into your eyes, whispering dirty nothings against your lips as you took Chaemin from the back.

“Fuck, please,” you cried out for reasons you didn’t understand, face a mess of streaky makeup as you laved at Sungchan’s thumb in your mouth.

“It’s okay, baby… we’re taking good care of you, see?” Sungchan smiled, just as the feeling of fullness left your core as Chaemin slipped out, moving over for Wonbin to take his place.

“Gonna make you feel so much better,” Wonbin said from behind you, lining up his tip with your gaping entrance before fully sliding in, much easier than Chaemin did.

While Wonbin’s fucking you from the back, Chaemin swaps places with Sungchan on the wall bench, tapping your lips with his slimy cock with a smirk on his face, all before sliding himself in and fucking the daylights out of your throat.

And your eyes were practically popping outta your head at this point given how rough he was being… you couldn't help yourself but to scratch at his thighs like a helpless kitten, making Chaemin wince as you marked his honey-colored skin with thin, red lines.

Meanwhile, Wonbin was still getting busy behind you, his hips grinding against you at a slow pace, clearly contrasting between Chaemin’s more aggressive sexual nature.

And it was only a matter of time before Sungchan joined Wonbin where he was on the ground, discarding himself from his pants completely now as he held his cock in one hand and stroking over the curve of your ass with the other, utterly mesmerized by your feminine figure.

“C’mon, Wonbin, you can fuck her harder than that, huh?” Sungchan huffed sarcastically, jerking his cock once again with his fist at the sight of your hole gushing with arousal, your fluids creating the most heavenly sheen around Wonbin’s length as he took heed to his friend’s words, fucking into you faster and deeper despite how much it overstimulated him.

“Yeah… that’s it… keep fucking her just like that- mmm, fuck yeah,” Sungchan groaned, sliding his hands between your legs and letting his fingers find your heat, slapping a bit at your pussy lips before circling your throbbing clit.

You felt like you were going completely dumb now given all the sensations you were experiencing, Wonbin’s tip working wonders in your cunt as he hit all the best parts inside you, his own eyes becoming watery now as he felt himself approaching his high again, mumbling tiny words of praise from behind you.

But Chaemin… oh God, he was a complete menace in this moment, calling you his good little cum slut as he continued fucking your face full of his shaft, your jaw going slack as you cried dumbly around his veiny cock.

That’s when you felt a burst of warmth enter you from both ends, Chaemin’s seed coating the back of your throat as Wonbin collapsed over your back, stilling his thrusts as he spilled his release all over your walls, heavy grunts coming from both of them now that they’d reached their highs.

“Awww, fuck,” Sungchan moaned this time, feeling himself draw closer and closer to the point of no return as Wonbin backed away from you, knowing that Sungchan had every intention of getting to stuff your pussy with his length just like the others did.

That's when you felt Sungchan grab your waist from behind, right before pushing his dick into you.

You couldn’t help but whine as you felt him stretch you open, gasping at the feeling of his hand wrapping around your throat, still feeling a bit sore from Chae's ministrations earlier.

He shoved his tongue into your mouth, kissing you sloppily as cum and saliva dripped down the sides of your lips, trailing down your neck as he humped into you hard and fast, causing your breasts to bounce freely from the force.

And seeing this only drew Chaemin's attraction to the perky flesh of your best as he found himself sucking on one of your tits, grazing his teeth over your skin.

“Get over here, Wonnie,” Sungchan grunted, watching as his friend sat tiredly by himself... “There’s a pretty tit for you, too,” he chuckled before smacking your ass, making you yelp at the stinging sensations traveling all the way up to your face.

“She’s still not making enough noise for me,” Chaemin huffed before jamming two of his fingers into your mouth, causing your eyes to tear up even more.

“Scream for me, slut,” he grinned while he roughly stimulated your clit with his free hand, Wonbin's tongue never ceasing in sucking at your nipples, moaning at the taste.

At this point, you struggled to keep your balance, feeling your body begin to shake uncontrollably as Sungchan held your body tighter, hips still drilling into you at a relentless pace.

“Feels so fucking good inside you, baby,” Sungchan sucked through his teeth, a bit of saliva filling his mouth as the pattern of his thrusts slowed down, his hips ripping away from your heat as you fell into the two other boy's before you, your body fucked completely dumb now.

There was so much cum inside you at this point that you're sure it'd probably be leaking out of you for weeks after this...

You felt Sungchan’s dick slide out as he rested his chin on your shoulder, kissing the skin there before sighing against your neck and saying, “That was pretty fun, huh, pretty?”

You couldn’t really get a word out in this moment, and he caught onto it, talking for you instead of trying to get any words out of you…

“We should do something like this again, y’know?…I’m sure Wonbin would like it too,” he went on with a chuckle as Wonbin’s cheeks flushed red, running a bashful hand through his bangs down as he worked on fixing his shorts back.

“This’ll only last for another week before your free trial expires,” Chaemin began with a hoarse voice while keeping his eyes trained on you as he pulled up his shorts, too.

“Well, that’s only unless she doesn’t come back for more,” Sungchan pitched in, lifting his weight from your body and helping you guide your yoga pants back over your hips.

Although you are were currently unsure as to whether or not you would proceed with paying for the full program after such an unexpected encounter, you couldn't deny that being tossed around by three hot guys had your head spinning in the best way possible…

And as the four of you stood all sweaty and sticky in a circle, still trying to catch your shaky breaths as the fitness session neared its end, the idea of your average workout sessions with Chaemin seems much less appealing than the full-body workout you experienced today.

⚡︎ AUTHOR'S NOTE | My sister and I definitely got a little carried away with the plot this time, but hopefully someone out there enjoyed reading the hot mess of a story as much as we did when writing it for our dear mutual... And once again, Happy belated Birthday @wonbinisbabygurl !!! Cheers to another year of your beautiful life <3

⚡︎ TAGS | @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @nikisvanillaccola @addictedtohobi @watamotee33 @ot7sevenlvr

⚡︎ Feel free to check out my RIIZE masterlist if you’re interested in more works by me!

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murdrdocs · 8 months ago

Note

girlll i’ve been listening to cowboy carter and imagine like cowboy!luke who wants to get into your levii jeans (pun intended, one of my faves on the album) in the barn or underneath a tree after going horse riding whilst the sun was setting. idk if this makes sense but anyways levii jeans is so like coded

inspiration from @enviedear 's farmhand billy mentions of moonshine/liquor; southern!luke & southern!reader; outdoor fucking; fingering; luke is taller than r; MDNI 18+ w/ LUKE CASTELLAN

“don’t you have something better to do?”

luke is leaning against the entrance to your grandfathers stables, one ankle crossed over the other and his arms folded over his chest. there’s still a light sheen of sweat over his forehead, and his biceps have a pump from the work he’d been put through today.

you shrug, pretending to be casual when you tell him, “no. not really.”

luke raises his eyebrows. "no friends to hangout with? what is it you city girls get up to? shop and club?"

he clearly senses that you have something better to do other than stand outside across from him and let the mosquitos take tiny bites out of your exposed skin, but you’re almost desperate to be close to him (despite his attitude) so you make up an excuse.

“it's tuesday, i finished my book, granddad 's watching jeopardy for the next hour, and the service out here is frustratingly bad.”

luke takes a step closer to you, not removing his arms over his chest even though you want him to in order to create more room. he stares down at you over the straight slope of his nose and squints his eyes.

“it sounds an awful lot like you just wanna be with me.”

while it’s true, you do want to be with him, he has no room to talk. not when luke wants you more than you want him.

as soon as you’ve let your facade slip, he has his hands on your hips, roughly pulling you against him until the flys of both of your denim jeans are bumping together. your noses replicate the movement, the tips knocking together until luke smooshes his into the apple of your cheek while his hands cup your face. his boots give him an extra inch or two. consequently, his shoulders are hunched over as his frame curls into yours, as if he's trying his best to engulf you.

you use your hands to get busy. at least, you attempt to. your fingers are over his belt buckle and you're starting to feed the leather through the metal whenever luke stops you. he pulls away from your lips with a deep breath, his eyes a little wilder than they were before you started as he shakes his head at you.

he doesn't say anything. nor does he need to. just the one movement is enough to get you to take your hands off his belt, and let him do what he pleases.

which is just as you expected. once, when luke was a little drunk off of your grandfather's moonshine and you were close behind him, he confessed to really liking your levi's jeans.

"the pair," he told you when you asked for clarification. "the ones that look like they've been fuckin painted on or something."

and it was just evil enough for you to wear them around the land anytime you knew luke would be over, just waiting for him to snap. you'll admit that he was able to hold his own for a while, but every man only had so much patience. and luke was, truly and honestly, nothing but a man.

a man you foolishly wanted, but a man nonetheless.

that being said, he knows how to please you like a man. a good man, at that.

the wood of a bench kept just outside of the stables digs into your bottom, and the wood of the building scratches against the crown of your head. there might be a new mosquito bite or two on the outside of your thighs, and a fly has been buzzing around you ever since luke had instructed you to sit here, but both are nothing but tiny nuisances whenever you have luke like this. sitting next to you with his fingers between your thighs. they had found their home as soon as he has your jeans slipped down until your boots prevented the fabric from going any further. he has his lips on one side of your neck, the other held by his free hand. his fingers are sprawled around the area of the side of your jugular, his thumb rubbing against your jaw when it isn't being used to maneuver your head to twist and turn according to his will.

inside of you, two long fingers pump and pump, pulling arousal out of you only to slip it right back in. soon enough, his calloused deft digits will be pulling an orgasm out of you. you vocally warn him of such while wrapping a hand around his veiny forearm.

"go ahead and let go." he says it like it's the easiest solution in the world. which, it is. but you don't want to cum if it isn't on his cock.

you don't have much time. jeopardy only lasts for so long and your grandfather can only be distracted for a certain amount of time before he comes to see what's taking his young new worker so long to finish tasks he knows luke can do in his sleep. reasonably, there isn't time for you to cum on luke's cock.

but you still beg, void of any embarrassment as you just want this one thing.

luke, ever the voice of reason, continues to shake his head.

"there's no time. just let go for me. i'll make it up to you later, sweetheart. promise."

and when he says it like that, with the thick drawl that you only knew previously to come out when he was drunk or tired, spoken next to your ear, you don't see how you could even consider denying him.

#southern!luke #celeste writes pjo #lukesworld!#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan smut

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flamingpudding · 1 year ago

Text

Ouija Board Prompt Idea

A/N: A late night Idea that came to me instead of sleep and I wrote this down during lunch break

Danny was just in Gotham because the city spirit had asked him for assistance with a rather persistent unruly Ghost that didn't understand that this was her haunt and she did not want them there.

So when he got the notice he did his kingly duties and made sure the Ghost was no longer annoying Lady Gotham. He was the Ghost King but even he didn't want to anger a spirit as old as her. He had watched the spirit take a ghostly club and hit Clockwork the Ancient of Time with it without remorse the first time they were introduced. So yea, no messing with this one.

He had been about to portal back home when he felt a strange pull one that was close to when he got summoned but yet it didn't feel as demanding but more like a little kid pulling on his shirt hesitantly. So he checked it out…

… and came across a group of vigilantes investigating an occult side.

Invisible he watched them, curious. He used to do the teen hero stick too before the whole Ghost King business allowing him to get some semblance of a normal life with his rogues, might as well see how others to that hero stick. Besides the pull he felt appeared to come from that tall one wearing a red helmet something was up with that guy.

"Come on, ask the ghosts a question or are you too chicken to do it?"

"I will not participate in this nonsense, Red Hood."

"Come on guys it will be fun!"

"For whom? You, Spoiler?"

"RR aren't you curious?"

"We just gotta ask the board a question and if a ghost is around they will answer by moving it, right?"

"Ghosts don't exist."

Okay Danny was not taking personal offense here but he was a half ghost and he ruled the Ghost Zone filled with ecto-entities that could count as ghosts. So yes, ghosts existed. It was a simple decision then as he floated down invisible crouching next to board still invisible and out of the way from them.

Making sure he made a lot of scraping noises as he moved the small wooden piece on the board to 'YES'.

Someone yelped and someone else shrieked, though Danny wasn't sure if that was a shriek of excitement or not. He still grinned at their reactions.

"Did that just move to 'YES'! It did, didn't it!"

Yea okay that earlier was a shriek of excitement considering how that girl in purple was jumping around. Though the poor kid among them looked a little paler now, Danny decided to keep an eye on the kid to make sure he wasn't overdoing it.

"Okay so a ghost is here?"

Maybe he should have bothered listening to Lady Gotham or Tucker more about the vigilantes of Gotham. Oh well no time better as this to learn. What did the girl call this boy again, RR? Danny wondered what that stood for.

He moved the piece around the board a little making sure they noticed before he spelled something out.

"N-O-S-H-I-T-S-H-E-R-L-O-C-K. No shit Sherlock. Ha! I like this ghost!" The tall one laughed, he believed the kid called him Red Hood earlier. Well the red helmet was a great testament to that sort of code name. Still he wondered about that weird feeling he got from the guy but pushed that aside for later.

"Well since there is a ghosts, what should we ask?"

"Maybe how old he is?"

"Think it rude to ask how he died?"

Danny rolled his eyes. Those were such mainstream questions.

"B-O-R-I-N-G, 1-6 , YES. Guys it looks like we are not were imaginativ."

"Well what do you suggest we ask then?"

"I don't know! Maybe he can show us a cool trick?"

"You know that reminds me of this game that's been out for a while, phasmophobia or something like that?"

Oh Danny knew this one! Tucker had told him about the game, he himself hadn't played it but he had watched his best friend do so, they had a lot of fun joking about how the ghosts were portrayed and the tools that were available to the players.

"So what? We ask the ghost to play Hide and Seek with us?"

"Let's cease this nonsense. This is not something we should mess with."

"Oh are you scared?"

He made a show of moving the wooden piece, doing his best not to snicker out loud as he moved the piece to count down from the number 9. Letting his own powers out a little to cause the already dim light to flicker and the room to cool down several degrees.

The reaction was instant once again. Though he didn't expect them to run for hiding spaces he definitely did not expect these people to pull out their weapons and position against each other's back like they were ready for a fight. Then again they were vigilantes

The poor kid among them looked even paler. Before his count down could reach 0 he decided to not scare the poor kid more. Pulling back his powers the room's temperature normalized and the lights stopped flickering. He moved the wooden piece knowing that at least one of them was watching it in anticipation.

"J-K-S-O-R-R-Y"

"I think the ghost just apologized to us?" The RR teenager said carefully and Danny couldn't help the sheepish smile even if they couldn't see it in his invisible state.

"You know about the game?"

He moved the piece to YES.

"So you thought it was fucking appropriated to scare us like that?"

He moved the piece around and placed it back to YES before spelling out sorry again. The vigilantes shared a look and Danny decided to spell out a question.

"L-I-T-T-L-E-G-U-Y-O-K-A-Y"

"Huh? Uh yea Robin is fine." They looked confused but Danny kept his eyes on the kid. Well the poor boy still looked very pale but he also appeared to try to put on a brave front, it nearly caused a chuckle to escape the halfa.

"Can you show yourself?"

"S-U-R-E"

Not like he was really going to show himself but this was going to be fun, he thanked the Ancients that he was taking lessons with Pandora on how to manipulate his own ectoplasm. He summoned a blob of it making sure he himself was still invisible as he let the green blob be visible, forming it and making it look like a blob ghost.

The reaction was once again instant. They yelled in the chaos all he caught sounded like 'Lazarus water! Moving Lazarus Water!' Before the pale kid, Robin they said, slashed at his ectoplasm blob with his katana, essentially doing nothing to the blob of ectoplasm. The sword just went through it and Danny still holding it confused just instinctively let it reform the shape he gave it.

Danny blinked, okay now he was definitely not showing himself. "This is no a ghost but a Pit Demon!"

From the corner of the eye he saw Lady Gotham appear in the room staring at him disapprovingly and holding that ghost club she had used on Clockwork.

"I can explain, really! I was just joking with them!" He stood holding his hands up to smooth the situation, the green blob fell to the ground splashing against the Ouija Board with a loud splat. His chances of not get hit like Clockwork by Lady Gotham were becoming slimmer.

"WHO SAID THAT?!"

Shit, he hadn't used ghost speech but said that out loud.

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s-4pphics · 1 year ago

Text

click! 2 (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: you need a roommate, and you love eggplant. [college au]

WORD COUNT: 5.7k

WARNINGS: photographer/roommate!ellie, ocs an artist with a rep, all ocs r black coded, crack, alcohol, arguments, more slut-shaming, bullying, disordered eating, brief mentions of sexual harassment/assault, sex for like a second, failed orgasms, masturbation, slight exhibitionism

one. three. four.

A/N: heyyyyy…. how yall doin🤭🤭 a little something before i go back to work kms

“So, lemme get this straight,” Abby pinches a lollipop stick between her fingers like it’s a blunt, adjusting the invisible glasses on her face, “The psycho just barged in?”

“With all of her shit! Didn’t even bother to say good morning or anything!”

It’s been hours since the squash-loving hermit took refuge in your home, and you’re sizzling with rage as you recall the events from earlier. You clocked out zoomed to Abby’s building in no time.

“Damn… why didn’t you call security… or the landlord? She can’t just move in without signing the contract.”

You pace around Abby’s rug-covered space, “Bitch, I don’t fuck with feds and rent’s due in two days!” You holler, “And she did sign the contract! I haven’t signed it yet because I didn’t know she was gonna show up and act like that. You’re not disrespecting me in my own house.”

Her head shakes, “What’d I tell you? If it were me… we wouldn’t have any problems.”

You point a scolding finger at the smirking blonde girl, “Yes, we fucking would. Don’t start.”

But she presses anyway, “I think we’d be a match made in heaven, actually.” She rises from the couch and hovers over you, the tip of your index connecting with her strong, covered chest. Your glare persists, but there’s warmth pulling in your gut from her scent.

Your skin is flaming; This is why you’ll never be able to have a serious conversation — or anything, for that matter — with Abby. Her raunchy remedies aren’t going to work in this situation; You’re too stressed.

“But anyway,” Her brow arches and she backs off. Slightly. “You’re an adult and main tenant. You gotta handle it soon.” She ponders for a moment, “But to be fair, you texted her first.”

“How many times do I have to say that I was lit as fuck! I don’t even remember— “

Abby’s taunting expression makes you pause, nails digging into the skin of your palms.

“Don’t.”

Your hiss makes her snort, “I didn’t say anything.”

“You don’t have to. It’s not funny.”

Abby knows you and Dina’s history better than anyone. Knows exactly how you got caught up in “situationship” nonsense, all with liquor and a phone. You can’t fault Abby for recognizing the familiarity, but a burning sting rests in your chest. Embarrassment spreads all over your cheeks, and you announce your departure in a rush.

Her regret is evident in the way she calls out for you, but you’re out the door in seconds, slamming it as hard as the frame can hold.

The winter air hits your eyes first… You try to convince yourself, hastily wiping the wet trails off your face. You’re not fucking crying over Dina. Not again.

You snatch your phone from your pocket to ask Amaya for advice, but your heart swells when you see her messages.

You think back to all the times she’s coddled you through your emotions: she drops everything to tend to your needs, no matter how big or small. Guilt would put you in the ground if she ruins her opportunity for your convenience; You can’t tell her. She deserves to enjoy herself. You match your best friend’s excitement all the way back to your car.

Abby called twice during the drive back home, but you didn’t answer. You know she wasn’t being malicious, but you’re sensitive, especially when it comes to anything related to Dina.

You rip your apartment door open and find Ellie lounging on your fucking couch with Love Island playing from her laptop. And eating peanuts… with Chick-Fil-A ranch?

You slam her device shut, words sharp as nails, “I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m telling you right now, you’re not fucking staying here.” You’re shredding through skin with your glare, but she’s not reacting. Just sitting there and crunching, eyes void.

“Don’t even think about unpacking. You’re getting out tonight, I can promise you that.”

“No, I’m not.”

“What.”

She merely shrugs, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“What the fuck— “

More cracked shells, more munching; Your eyelid is jerking.

“Rent’s on the counter, by the way.”

You hold back a scoff before marching into the kitchen, eyeing the envelope labeled fake ass mortgage. You hear the contestants from the reality show resume their dialogue, but you’re locked on how thick the letter looks to bother scolding.

It’s torn open… and filled with hundred-dollar bills. Way more than half of rent. Ellie might’ve covered the heat bill for the rest of winter.

“I thought you were a fucking photographer.” The shock in your voice is clear as day, mindlessly returning to the living room.

“I am.” She calls dryly.

“No, you’re not.” You toss the money on the coffee table. “The fuck do you do on the side? Sell drugs to freshmen?”

“Sure.”

When your arms cross over your chest with an accusatory stare, she sighs. “I told you. I take pictures.”

“Of who? The fucking councilman?”

Another shrug. “Whoever asks. It’s how I make money…” A light pause. “At least until I secure this job.”

You squint at her, “I thought you got evicted. You’re clearly fit to pay rent on your own.”

That seems to shake her a little, staring back with hardened eyes, “And who the fuck are you to question me? The reason I’m here is because of you!”

“Exactly! This...” Arms waving around the living room. “…is my fucking space! You’re a straggler at best.”

A weighted huff escapes her before she tosses her snack on the table and stands, leaning over the table.

“You would’ve been in the same position as me if I didn’t show up. No where to fucking go,” She spits. “If you want me gone, fine. But when your landlord comes knocking on your fucking door asking why you’re two weeks late, don’t say shit to me.”

You waver slightly and she notices, smirk darker than her pupils. You’re steaming; Smoke is going to come out of your ears soon.

“The same goes for you. I don’t wanna hear your fucking voice, and don’t touch anything that I paid for,” You command, “Don’t even breathe in my space. Stay on your side and I’ll stay on mine.”

A condescending grin plasters onto her face.

“Where’d you hide that lease?”

Your heart is too weak for hatred… or so you thought.

Abby, Amaya… everyone you’ve fucking talked to about the bitch right across the hall thinks that she’s dangerous and sick and out for blood.

They’re all wrong. It’s you.

Ellie is conjuring up something villainous deep inside you; Her childish antics started off small: bumping against the wall in the middle of the night, leaving her dirty ass shoes out of place by the front door, not laying the rugs that she slipped on flat… Incredibly annoying, but fixable.

You took the time to construct a new roommate agreement that fit your unique situation the morning after your argument. It was sloppily scribbled on a crumpled piece of construction paper, but it was a symbol of peace. You taped it to her door before you left for your shift, only to return and see it ripped up and scattered in front of your door.

It’s been five days since then. Five, and you can already feel a bald spot forming at the back of your skull. To think that Ellie was your first option as a roommate just days ago is laughable now. You know that none of the tricks she’s pulling are accidental. You pride yourself in being observant, and you always catch that prideful look on her face when she nails one of your peeves.

You try to be here when Ellie’s not, but she’s always home when you are. Music blasting in the wee hours of the night knowing you have three upcoming shifts to cover, on the couch rewatching the same episode of Love Island over and over while you make your breakfast, pretending to talk on the phone to friends she doesn’t have as loudly as possible. You’re fucking tired and you’re holding your hand back from slapping her.

But the worst part is that she’s stocked your fridge with fucking squash. Top to bottom in all colors there is. Filled the drawers with one called cucurbita argyrosperma. You were torn between curling in hysterics and beating it over your new roommate's head; The petty side of your brain wishes that you were allergic so you could “accidentally” eat some, die, and get her locked up, but you hushed it. She’s fucking with you, but rent and some bills are paid for the month. What a sick turn of events.

You’re plotting, though. Something’s brewing, and Abby’s helping you. It’s finally Saturday, and college kids are fiending for a rager.

The only quality that you respect about Ellie is that she’s clean. She washes her dishes, does her laundry (separate from yours, thank God), and she’s deep-cleaned the bathroom twice already. Ellie despises large messes more than you, though, since you’re willing to sacrifice your tidy abode to piss her off. Let the ruckus in!

You heard her leave early this morning, and you’ve noticed that when she’s gone, she’s gone, which gives you all the time to plan. You skip to the bathroom like a kid in a candy store, showering, brushing your teeth, doing skincare. You whip up the hardiest breakfast you can before your mall venture with Abby; It’s been days since you’ve last nutted, and you need a new vibrator. And new paintbrushes.

“… Why haven’t you beat her ass again?”

It only took Abby buying food for you to forgive her. You slurp down your strawberry milkshake, “Fear of permanent imprisonment.”

“Does Maya know what’s been going on?” Abby asks, shaking her head.

“Fuck no, and she’s never going to. Have you seen her Snaps?” You whip out your phone and show her Amaya’s stories; She’s exploring and meeting new people. “She’s having a ball! The second I tell her what’s been going on, she’s gonna drop everything and come back. I’m not doing that to her.”

“You’re the only outlet I have, so suck it up and listen to me bitch and moan.” You continue, “Who’s coming tonight?”

She smiles, “As many as I could get.”

“Please tell me Armani’s coming.”

“She is, for sure.”

Your heart flutters. Armani… She’s everything you could ever want and need. She’s kind, smart, drop-dead gorgeous, and she bench presses with Abby on the weekends. She has your clit jumping like a salmon in the freshwater, and you’re going to see her tonight.

You jump awake at your alarm, eyes stinging as you glance at your phone. It’s a little past nine; Pregaming hours.

You throw your lazy body into the shower and conduct your special-occasions ritual, blasting your music as loud as the speaker would allow, scrubbing your body with exfoliant to your heart's content.

You exit, water cascading down your shoulders and back, towel engulfed around your body. You have no idea what to fucking wear; What color does Armani like? Do lesbians qualify for the red nail theory or is that something heteros made up for TikTok followers? What if she doesn’t like eucalyptus scented body wash?

You swallow your doubts with a shot glass.

Outfit prepping takes longer than expected, but you’re dressed, titties are out, and your thoughts are swirling like the liquor in your gut. You should call Amaya and tell her you love her—

Another shot, more dancing. You’re spinning around your small room to the bass of the beat, sloppily pulling every shot that you can, back arching and hips throwing in any direction they can.

The bass sounds louder the more you dance, every thud rattling the poster-covered walls of your room.

It’s not until the bass surpasses the song that you realize it’s not bass at all. It’s knocking… on your bedroom door. You snicker; Abby’s here with your girl.

You don’t know why she’s boxing with your door, though. Beating the shit out of it. When you yank it open, you’re instantly annoyed at who appears behind it.

A… gray sweat clad Ellie propped against the door frame, arms crossed over her chest and red hairs framing her face. You force your eyes upward, right in between hers. The dots on her face look like skittles. Since when does she have a fucking tattoo? Are you hallucinating or is it a fat ass leaf with eyeballs?

You barely registered what she said, “Can you turn that off? It’s almost eleven.”

“Why, absolutely-the-fuck-not.” You slur, and she cringes, nose wrinkling at the scent of liquor on you. “Where’s Abby?”

Ellie’s biceps are… out on the prowl. And the veins in her hands are still there. Just checking. Right between her eyes again.

“Who the hell is that?”

“My bitch.” You chuckle.

Ellie’s eyes widen and you correct yourself.

“N-Not bitch like whore. Bitch like… like, that’s my bitch! She’s great, love her. BFF… not over Amaya, though.”

Ellie’s getting annoyed; Her nose won’t stop twitching. “… Is she coming over?”

“She should be on her way.”

“Is she stupid?”

“What.”

“Is your… bitch stupid?”

“Um, no, she’s not fucking stupid. What the hell are you on.” You snap, offended for your friend.

“Tell her to stay the fuck home before she gets buried.”

… Did Ellie just threaten to kill one of your sneaky-links? Before she gets buried?

“And what the fuck are you gonna do? Just so you know, whatever you do, she’ll double it and send it back! And I’m jumping in, so— “

Your roommate’s gawking in disbelief. “… I meant buried by the snow, you fucking idiot. There’s a blizzard outside.”

You’re flatlining, you can feel it.

“There’s a what.”

“Check the damn news.” She pushes herself off the wall and turns towards her room, “And go to bed. Looks like you need it.”

Her door slams shut. She’s definitely poking fun at your eyebags. You thought you did a good job at concealing them.

A fucking blizzard? December just started. You check your phone, reading the influx of messages from your dad, Amaya, Abby telling you to stay safe and indoors and the party’s cancelled because of the storm and you want to fucking die—

You tear a slit in your blinds and… yup. Pure white is pelting from the dark gray clouds in the sky, the formerly black street painted ivory with ice. Not a car in sight, and if they are, they’re covered entirely.

The harsh reality hasn’t even set in yet. The girl you want to strangle is trapped inside with you; She’s not going anywhere, either. You’re going to be forced to see her everywhere in your two-bedroom apartment. And you’re not having sex tonight.

Plan PISS-ELLIE-OFF was a bust. You’re drunk and hungry—

Your eyes bulge; When was the last time you’ve gone grocery shopping?

You clumsily rush to the kitchen, nearly ripping your fridge door off the handle. When you're met with the pack of cream cheese and mini croissants you bought last week and all of Ellie’s fresh groceries (including squash), you almost start crying. You slept away all your pre-storm chore hours.

Ellie pads in the kitchen with an empty ice cream carton and spoon, headphones blasting in her ears. She doesn’t acknowledge you as she throws away the carton and grabs the unopened bag of salt and vinegar chips. Your mouth waters.

You watch as she rips the bag open, the salty, bitter aroma traveling into your nostrils.

“Ellie.” She can’t hear you over the fuckery penetrating her eardrums!

You tap her shoulder harder than necessary. “Don’t touch me.”

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME THERE WAS A STORM?”

Her veiny hand — fuck — pushes one of her ear cups over to the side, not even bothering to look at you as she fills her bowl to the brim with the crunchy snack; You never noticed how heavily pierced her left ear is.

“Who are you again?”

Alright. Your tongue gets loose, “You know, you don’t have to act like a fucking cunt all the time! I tried to be nice to you and—”

“Yeah, ‘cause shit talking me with your friends is so fucking nice.” She scoffs and turns, pointed glare set on you. Your stomach drops. How the fuck did she know that?

“Drop the fucking act already. You’re also a cunt…” Her eyes drag over your appearance. “Amongst other things, evidently.”

Ellie’s eyes hold so much disdain, and you instantly feel exposed and gross. Your face sears with embarrassment, arms mindlessly crossing over your chest in attempts to cover up.

“… What the fuck does that mean?” You know what she means.

“You think I’m a fucking freak and a loser and a bunch of other shit I’ve been called since forever?” She sneers, “Then you’re a fucking slut. How’s that for nice?”

Your body locks up, freezes, and you fight back vomit. Ellie grabs her bowl and exits the kitchen, door slamming shut, leaving you to simmer in her spite.

You don’t feel hungry anymore.

You didn’t drink enough last night. You’re awake, and you remember everything. And you’re so fucking hungry.

Guilt festers in your chest like rats, and anxiety is building in your fingers. Your head hurts so bad and your mouth is dry, but you refuse to move from under your blankets to get water. You didn’t even have the energy to take your make-up off last night, mascara and small sparkles smeared all over your pillowcase.

You wallow, using the heavy wind outside as stress relief. People really think you’re a whore with no self-respect, even after a year. Your heart’s hitting against your ribcage at an alarming pace. Deep breaths, that’s all you can do.

Tears jerk in your eyes as you recall every unwanted stare, every cat-call, every grope and dirty text message you’ve received from people you both know and don’t. You freeze and… that’s it. You just don’t move and hope they can read that you’re scared.

Does Ellie feel the same way when people talk poorly about her?

Your breathing techniques aren’t working so you sit up, shaking your hands and digging your palms into your wet eyes. You’re suddenly too hot for blankets.

Your clock reads near noon; You’ve been awake for hours. Your feet plant on the cool wood and sigh in relief before standing and snagging your new paint brushes off your dresser.

Your hands tremble as you fill a water cup and grab a black canvas, setting up your workspace on the floor. You squirt hues of blue, green and white on a dried paper plate and let your brush do the work; You’re not thinking, just painting, smudging, trapping yourself in emptiness. The scene you’re creating is drying your tears; You wish you could escape into the grass field, even for a second.

Your water cup is brown by the time you finish; How long have you been sitting here? The needles in your legs tell you long enough. Your vision will have to wait.

You unlock and quietly open the door… It doesn’t matter, though. Ellie’s awake and silently sitting on the couch. You pay her no mind and venture to the fridge for your croissants and cream cheese, throwing your pastries in the microwave.

Eyes are on you. You feel them in your back.

When the microwave dings, you spread cream cheese all over the buttery dough. Ellie’s hoarse voice freezes you. Not again.

“The blizzard… isn’t stopping.”

You finally inspect your roommate: leg bouncing and brows furrowed, nails between her teeth, eyes locked on the window that shows the heavy snowfall.

“Usually how they work.”

Your sarcasm doesn’t move her, “They said it would pass after a couple of hours yesterday! It hasn’t let up yet!”

“Never listen to weathermen. They make shit up as they go.” You keep your voice curt while you make your plate. It looks a hot mess; You wish you had blackberry jam.

“They can’t make shit up when there’s money on the fucking line!” You hear footsteps from behind you; Ellie’s pacing. “I have a client today. Their photos were supposed to go in my portfolio before I submit it!”

Her statement makes you pause. You didn’t think about that; It’s impossible to travel anywhere at the moment. How the fuck are you going to get to work? You can’t afford to miss shifts. It’s almost that time of the month.

“This was one of the biggest bookings I’ve gotten and I’m gonna miss it because of the fucking weather!”

You don’t know why she's talking to you, so you cut the conversation short. “You’ll figure it out.” You enter your room without another word, slamming the door as hard as noise complaints would allow.

After a few minutes, Ellie’s door slams, too.

Hours pass and you’re covered in paint. Your one flower field turned into three, one with detailed butterflies, one with raining rose petals, one with your mother’s name spelled out with clouds.

Your fingers are sore, but you feel lighter. Those croissants wore off a long time ago; You’re starving. What you’d give for grilled eggplant and shrimp with Greek yogurt and lemon juice—

A soft knock lands on your door, and you stiffen. You stand, legs popping and arms stretching over your head as you wobble to your door.

The second it opens, you're hit with the smell of garlic and herbs and your mouth waters. Ellie stands over you, playing with her fingers. You don’t register that you’re missing pants until she gawks at your bare legs; Warmth spreads across your body and you maneuver so she can’t see them behind the door.

A moment of awkward silence before she chokes, “There’s, uh… there’s soup on the stove.” You scoff, ignoring the growling in your stomach.

“I don’t like squash, Ellie.”

The door slams in her face and she sighs behind the wood.

…

Later that night, you sneak into the dark kitchen, the big pot of soup still on the stove. You open the lid and inspect its contents: shredded chicken, carrots, fucking… green leaves of some sort. You grab a spoon and taste it to be safe. It’s good, and there’s no squash in it. You eat two warm bowls.

The storm calms when you wake the next morning. Thank God; You haven’t had coffee in days.

Ellie’s gone for the day, so you blast music while in the shower. You dry and dress in silence, yanking your underwear and jeans up your legs, throwing on a pair of earmuffs over your earphones and a puffer.

You almost slip on the ice from the sidewalk on the way to you and Abby’s coffee shop before heading to class like normal. You go grocery shopping before your first shift.

Work drags on like normal, legs numb from standing and throat dry from sale attempts at checkout. Who the fuck wants to apply for a credit card for a coffee machine website?

It’s not until your shift is on its last limbs that your heart stops in your chest. The bell rings to the hardware store, and you instantly rush to the back to retrieve your other coworker. It’s Dina. What the fuck.

You burst into the break room, “Raja, Raja, I need a favor.”

She slurps her ramen, exclaiming what around her soggy noodles.

You search for any heads and whisper, “There’s someone I used to fuck outside! Can you take care of her, please, I can’t— “

“Okay, okay, damn. I got it— “

The service bell rings, “Go, go! Hurry up!” Your coworker swallows her noodles and plasters her smile on her face. You hide behind the cracked door and listen to everything.

“Hey, ladies! Sorry about the wait!”

“No problem!” Dina’s laugh sends a pain in your chest, “I just needed a new bike lock. Someone tried to steal mine, like, what the fuck.”

There’s an unfamiliar laugh that melds with Dina’s. “No problem! Would you like to sign up for a Coffee Brewers credit card with your purchase? They’ll repair all filter baskets and decanters for 45% off!”

You almost smile; Dina doesn’t drink coffee. Raja checks them out, and you peer out the small opening of the door. Dina and… whoever the fuck that is are snuggled up behind the service counter, her head resting on the random’s shoulder. They’re whispering and laughing and you’re disgusted. And sad.

They depart with a small bag and Raja almost smashes the door into your face.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Mourning.”

“Damn… sorry, man.”

You shrug and thank your coworker before returning to your position. What could’ve been.

It’s late when you get home.

Ellie’s on the couch; You feel her watch as you unlace your boots and unravel your scarf. You set your bag on the floor and grab your Cheesecake Factory brown bread loaf for your grilled PB&J. Ellie clears her throat; You say nothing.

She coughs louder when you butter your bread.

“Are you sick or something?”

Ellie whips her head around, “No, why?”

“You’re coughing like you’re gonna die.”

Your roommate doesn’t reply, so you turn and toast your bread on the stove.

“How was the soup?”

Your eyes bulge, “Huh?”

“Did it taste… like, decent?”

You stare down at your sizzling toast, “I dunno what you mean.”

Voice flat as ever, she says, “The soup… you had some— “

“No, I didn’t— “

“Wha— I know what was in the pot when I ate. You had some—”

You face her, skin boiling, “Okay, and what about it? Yes, I ate some! I would’ve had three bowls instead of two if I wasn’t so fucking tired! It was good as fuck! I slept like a baby!”

She calls your name but you ignore her, “Sorry, I got my disgusting, slutty germs all over your stupid chicken noodle soup! Is that what you wanna hear! What, are whores not allowed food, either?! Why’d you offer it to me then?!”

Another rushed call of your name, but you press on, “Y’know, you’re actually weird as fuck! Who calls someone a filthy, bottom of the barrel gutter rat then offers them soup the next day! What kinda limbo fuckery are you playin’ at— “

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP… BEEP—

You gasp when the fire alarm sounds. When you turn, your toast is charred black and surrounded by dark smoke. You cut the heat off and push the pan over. Ellie’s running with a towelette, waving it around the beeping alarm.

You grab a washcloth and help her, and eventually it cuts off. Ellie rushes over to the front door and switches the ceiling fan on.

Your sandwich is fucking ruined. Great!

You don’t know why you’re sobbing, but it’s loud. You just want to go to fucking bed. Ellie’s just standing there with a towel in hand, fiddling with her earlobe. How embarrassing.

You push yourself off the counter and turn to go to your room, but Ellie calls for you.

“What?! What now, Ellie!”

She cringes, “I— You’re not a… slut?”

Your teary eyes squint at her. “Are you asking me— “

“No! No, I’m… Sorry? You’re not a slut.” This is the weirdest apology you’ve ever received in your entire goddamn life.

“Well, fuck me! Thanks!” You snark between sniffles. You yank your bedroom door open.

“You’re good at painting!” She shouts, and you stop.

For some reason, you sob harder, and she panics, “Uhh… I mean, like, for an amateur! Like, you’re decent enough!”

Now you’re… laughing? You need to sleep now. Ellie chuckles uncomfortably, and you snicker darkly to yourself, “Life is a fucking joke, oh my god.”

Your fingers dig deep into your wet eyes, and Ellie’s sock-covered feet pad closer.

“Look, I’m not… I don't know what to say.”

“Then don’t talk.”

“‘Kay.”

She stands there in silence and watches you wipe your face on your sweater sleeve, mascara smearing all over the fabric.

“Why didn’t you use squash in the soup?”

“Uh… you wouldn’t have eaten it if I did.”

You nod and stare at the wall. “So, what? That was a peace offering?”

Ellie contemplates what she should say.

“Not really… I mean, I was hungry, but I didn’t care if you ate… some of it, if that makes sense.”

It doesn’t. “Whatever, I’m going to bed.” Her lip curls like she wants to add something, but she doesn’t.

“… Alright.”

“Don’t worry about the pan. I’ll get it tomorrow.” And just like that, you shut the door on her again.

You don’t have the energy to shower, so you undress and tuck yourself in. Your room is warmer than usual.

Ellie’s been acting differently since then.

For the past three days, she’s been greeting you whenever you’re in her line of vision. She even mumbled hi before she took her seat in stats yesterday. It’s awkward and stiff, but there’s always a wave somewhere in her movements. You nod back at her every time.

You’re not sure where your relationship lies with your roommate, but it’s not as… bad? Seeing her doesn’t bother you as much as it did; You suppose it’s the same for her, too.

You’re exhausted; Finals are around the corner, and you’re busting your ass. You had to get another job for the holiday season since it’s you and your dad’s first Christmas together since you were little, and you want to get him something nice.

All you need is a good nut and you’re set for the next two weeks. You miss Abby. She’s been just as busy with nonsense as you have, but you found time to see her later tonight.

You’re stuck in the library trying to make the concept of categorical variables stick, but it’s not working. You’re in a block because you’re thinking about Abby. She should be here to pick you up soon.

You slam your book shut when your phone goes off, a message from… Ellie.

You set your phone down with a small smile. What a weirdo.

You force yourself to study for another hour. Heavy hands clamp down on your shoulders and you shriek, other students looking up in confusion, your hand clasping over your mouth.

Abby’s laughing behind you, warm breaths hitting your ear before she kisses your cheek.

“Hi.” She whispers.

“Hi yourself.”

“Pack that shit up.” Abby points at your books and messy stacks of paper. “Let’s roll.”

You don’t hesitate, shoving everything in your bag in anticipation of your nut. Your clit’s cheering; She’s finally happy.

You’re warm, well-fed, and Abby’s drilling the fuck out of you, but you can’t cum.

Your face is shoved into your friend’s pillow; She’s hitting exactly where you need her to, and it feels good. You’re tipping, but you haven’t tipped. You’ve been on the verge of orgasming for the past ten minutes and it’s driving you crazy.

Your voice is barely there, “Just cuuum, just cum, just cum—“ You’re begging… yourself into her pillow.

Abby sounds so sexy behind you; You’re shocked you’re not convulsing at the sound of her voice alone.

After some time, her hips slowed into a stop, tip nudged inside you.

“… You good?” She exhales.

You throw her two thumbs up. You’re not good at all.

Abby snorts and pulls out, gently patting your hip, “Sit up and talk to me.”

Your legs give out from underneath you and you lay flat. Abby hands you a washcloth and you wipe between your legs while she unstraps her dick.

“I think I’m broken.” You muffle into her slobbery pillowcase.

“You’re not broken, you’re just not feeling it. It’s fine.”

She’s too sweet. You want to cry, “I’m sor— “

“Don’t you dare. Finish your Wingstop.”

“Okay.” You grumble.

Abby drops you off after the movie finishes. The red string that connects her clit to yours snaps as you waddle back up to your apartment.

You enter your shared home and you’re instantly freezing; Ellie’s not here. She hates sleeping when it’s cold.

You and your pussy sigh in relief. Just five minutes by yourself; that’s all you need. Your shoes and backpack are thrown to the side in the nick of time, bursting through your bedroom door and rummaging through your drawer. Your cunt screams eureka when your vibrator turns on. You don’t remember charging the son of a bitch!

Your pants and panties are lunged across your bedroom and you leap into bed. Your toy’s buzzing in your hand, and your walls squeeze in anticipation. Foreplay be damned.

Your eyes shut the second the vibrations hit your clit, trying to imagine a sweaty Abby on top of you, fucking you deep, choking you out. Your orgasm is right there, walls desperately trying to milk the brisk air around you. You shove two free fingers inside, and your muscles latch onto them, pulling them in deeper. It’s right there, just a little more.

“Please, please, c’mon, fuck— “

Your pleas go ignored. Your imagination has never failed you, so why can’t you fucking cum?

Desperate sobs combine with your moans, brain filled with Abby, and Dina. Even Armani slips her way in there and you’ve seen her twice in person, but it’s useless. Your peak never comes.

You’re seconds away from shattering your window with your fucking vibrator. You and Ellie can’t afford to get that shit fixed—

Your clit jumps at the brief image of your roommate, pissed off and berating you about breaking a fucking window. You hate that you don’t fight it, the visions of her and her strong arms, her twitchy nose, her dot-covered face. It’s stirring something vicious in your tummy, and you can’t keep your mouth shut.

You see her on top of you instead of Abby, her short hair loosening from her bun and framing her blushing face. Pretty, moss-filled eyes stare back at you, annoyance and bother replaced with something darker. Needier; She wants you to take from her.

“Fuck, fuck, mmh— “

Your hips buck when your positions switch in your mind, a blushing, spent Ellie, reaching for you, pulling you close, begging to touch her.

You’re so loud when your orgasm splits your brain in two, your stress melting away in an instant, nasty, unspoken visuals of your pouty and weird housemate fluttering beneath your eyelids. You ride your high until you can’t, vibrator clattering to the floor, walls flexing around nothing.

You’re so tired that you don’t bother moving. You pull the covers over your trembling form and knock out, not even bothering to turn your shaking toy off as it rattles on the hardwood.

It’ll be dead by the time Ellie comes home. If she does.

…

Ellie lays on her side in her bed, knees pulled to her chest, her tattooed arm wrapped around her tummy and a hand covering her mouth. Her face is burning hot and her stomach is swirling. Whenever she blinks, she can see you, eyes rolled to the back of your head as you surrender to your release.

Her heart is racing and minutes away from crawling up her throat.

She completely forgets to put in that maintenance request for your broken heater; She’s warm enough under the covers for tonight.

A/N: hi again its finna pick up LEMME COOOOOK LEMME COOK

TAGGIES LOVE YALL MMMWAH : @starologist @hrtmal @ohlawdthebirds @villainousbear @timmy-27 @inf3ct3dd @aouiaa @shurisbigtoe @emothurman @lonelyfooryouonly @imelliesgf @baumbii @brackishkittie @littletinyladybugs @r1miese @horror-whoree @elsbunny222 @elliesatchel @makemescreamel @lav3nd3rhaze @elliezflower @ellieloml @ellies-princess @saverdelrey @womenofarcane @muthafuckingstargirl @mina-281 @yuckyfucky @aimformyheartt @elstoy @skylerwhitwyo @sawaagyapong @nil-eena @dewylittlestars @sakiigami @feelsoseencantdream @ellieslittlegf

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pricelessemotion · 2 years ago

Text

Never really over | S.H.

summary: [4.2k] you and steve fall apart, then fall back together.

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: so much angst, best friends to exes to lovers, language, gratuitous taylor swift references

a/n: exes to lovers is one of my fave tropes so i hope i did it justice! reader is vaguely asian-coded by accident (though there shouldn’t be any direct references to r's appearance!) lmao happy AAPI heritage month to all my fellow asians

masterlist

The day after your breakup, Steve shows up at your house with a bag of takeout and a six-pack. He kicks off his shoes at the front door while you’re in the kitchen, already grabbing napkins and chopsticks. The light on the floral rice cooker on the counter just turned from cooking to keep warm. Steve is nothing, if not right on time.

To most people, the situation would seem peculiar. But you and Steve were best friends before your break up and you had promised that you would stay best friends after it.

You settle in on opposite sides of the worn-down loveseat, a rerun of Golden Girls playing on the television. You’re just about to ask him if he remembered to get extra sauce for the chow mein when Steve, seemingly anticipating your question, silently hands you a small cylindrical container.

The night goes on as it usually would, with Steve lamenting Keith’s tyranny and Dustin’s antics. He helps you clean up when you’re done, scooping the leftover rice into a Tupperware container saying I gotta get myself one of these, it’s so convenient! He even does the dishes, washing while you dry, never commenting on the fact that you have a perfectly good dishwasher that you never use.

Once he’s standing in the entryway, shoes back on and keys in hand, he instinctively leans in for a chaste kiss goodbye.

You flinch, turning your cheek at the last second. The moment becomes a sobering reminder as to why you decided to break up in the first place. Instinct over time starts to feel like routine. Routine over time starts to feel like a chore. Another thing that you have to cross off your to-do list.

For a while, it was grounding. It felt good to be normal. Normal felt like warmth, like coming in out of the freezing cold and cozying up next to a blazing fire. But you knew from experience that the cold always comes back. As the days drew darker, the once roaring hearth settled into a pile of ashes. Being grounded can feel like being tied down. It’s only natural to want to break free.

You didn’t realize freedom would feel like this.

“Right.” Steve huffs out awkwardly, swinging his car keys around his index finger. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He shuffles out the door while you offer a weak goodbye. You know you’re letting the cold in by watching him as he gets into his car. You do it anyway.

–

Steve and Dustin have taken to visiting you while you’re on shift at the coffee shop. You’re not sure why. The arcade next door seems much more fitted to their shared interests, but they still come and visit you all the same. Usually, when you come upon them, they’re standing on the other side of the till having a whispered conversation that dies the moment they notice you’re there.

“A latte for me, and hot cocoa for the kid.” Steve says, ruffling the younger boy's hair.

“I’m fourteen!”

“Oh, I’m sorry Mr. Maturity. Did you want a coffee? I’m sure our girl over here has some great recommendations.”

Dustin only grumbles in response, muttering insults under his breath. Steve refuses your offer to comp their drinks, paying and dropping his change in the tip jar.

You set both drinks down on the counter when they’re done. One is a simple steaming cup. The other is piled high with whipped cream and sprinkles, decorated with a tiny plastic snowman left over from the holidays.

“Thank you,” Steve says, leaning against the counter. “Y’know, you’re my most favorite barista in the whole world.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m the only barista you know, but you’re welcome.”

“So, would you be interested in movie night tomorrow?”

“Wow, let me think.” You feign contemplation, sarcasm dripping from every word. “I’ll have to check my schedule. I have a meeting with some venture capitalists but I might be able to squeeze you in.”

“It’s a date.”

“So… you guys are back together?” Dustin darts a confused glance between the both of you, his irises going back and forth as if watching a ping-pong match.

“No!” You and Steve both blurt out at the same time. Then you both take a moment to look at each other as if to say, I know why I said no but why are you saying no?

Is it really over?

Dustin, as observant and tactless as ever, gives off a little shrug. You mutter something about needing to go to the back to do inventory. As you’re walking away, you hear Steve say something that sounds a lot like Nice going, doofus!

–

Dustin answers the door when you ring the bell. Steve’s house has the usual suspects for movie night. Max and El are cuddled up together on the floor, practically laying on top of each other. Robin and Nancy are on the loveseat to the left, so wrapped up in each other that they barely even register your arrival. You presume that the sounds coming from the kitchen are Mike, Will, and Lucas, no doubt making one too many bowls of popcorn in the microwave.

Steve is sitting, his arm draped over the back of the couch. Before, there would’ve been no questions as to where you would sit. The empty couch cushion practically had your name on it. You would’ve already bounded across the room and snuggled up to the boy that felt like home.

You search the room for another option, but come up empty. Unless you want to pointedly avoid sitting next to him by crashing on the floor with the kids, which would undoubtedly draw attention to the very thing you want to ignore.

Taking a seat next to Steve, you toe the line between platonic distance and romantic distance.

“What’s on tonight?” You ask no one in particular.

“The Princess Bride.” Lucas replies, coming from the kitchen with a bowl of fresh popcorn.

He barely gets a chance to put it down before the three other boys tumble onto the floor and begin shoveling the savory snack into their mouths. Max and El whine about their lack of civility, yelling at them for having spilled popcorn on the floor before the movie has even started.

“Ah, that’s my favorite!”

“I know.” Steve finally speaks up beside you.

“We’ve only seen it like a million times.” Max says, rolling her eyes and resting her head on El’s shoulder.

“Hey! Little shits who eat my food and use me as a taxi service don’t get to complain about my movie choices.”

“Whatever, Steve.” The redhead remarks, with an unmistakable fondness in her voice.

You settle into your seat. The January cold has seeped into the house and, despite the heating being on full blast, you’re freezing. Steve notices, tugging the comforter in his lap over your frame, enveloping you in a warmth you didn’t realize you missed so much. You murmur a quiet thank you that you’re almost sure goes unheard until he turns, giving you a small smile before returning his attention to the screen.

In order to properly share the blanket, you have to scoot in even closer. You tell yourself that it’s a perfectly reasonable platonic distance, that you used to do this all the time before you were dating. If Steve is experiencing even a fraction of your inner turmoil, he doesn’t show it. He just keeps looking ahead, paying far too much attention to the film. The palm that would usually come to rest upon your shoulder stays gripping the back of the couch.

Sometime after Buttercup and Wesley enter the forbidden forest, you fall asleep.

It’s hard to make out anything through the dense fog. The trees around you loom large, foliage so lush and thick that it blocks out the sky, making it unclear if it’s day or night. The only light source comes from an oil lamp.

The lamp casts a shadow over the face of the person holding it, emphasizing his strong brow and straight nose. You go to move toward Steve, but you can’t. You’re stuck. Ankle deep in sand, coarse and with the consistency of molasses, that slowly creeps up higher and higher. It takes you a moment to realize; the sand isn’t getting higher, you’re getting lower.

You’re sinking.

Desperately, you begin grasping at anything and everything that might get you out. It’s futile. The more you move, the further you fall. You’re waist-deep now. Steve is still standing there, stone-faced, oil lamp flickering. He turns, walking into the fog and taking the light with him.

You open your mouth, wanting to scream. Needing to scream. But only one word echoes throughout. It does nothing to stop Steve’s retreating figure.

Stay.

“Hey,” Steve is tugging on the sleeve of your sweater. “Wake up.”

The fog dissipates. Feeling slowly returns to your limbs. The first thing you realize is that you fell asleep on Steve’s shoulder. The second thing you realize is that, due to your impromptu nap, the distance between the two of you is practically nonexistent. You recoil, sliding yourself as far away from him as you can. Steve flinches at the sudden movement.

“Are you okay?” His voice is soft and comforting, like a childhood blanket that you can’t sleep without. “It seemed like you were having a bad dream.”

You blink your eyes furiously, trying to shake the sinking feeling that has settled deep into your stomach.

“Where is everyone?” You ask, avoiding his question. The once lively living room is now empty. Remnants of movie night surround you in the form of stray pieces of popcorn and a nearly empty tub of Red Vines.

“They all went home about twenty minutes ago.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You seemed so comfortable. I didn’t wanna wake you.” He shrugs, saying the next words gently. “Are you having nightmares again?”

Before, you would tell him yes. You always talked to Steve about your nightmares. Most of the time he was there to witness them firsthand, waking up to your shouting and thrashing. Some nights, he would be able to coax you back to sleep with soothing words and tender touches. Other nights, he would stay up with you for hours, talking about nothing. The next day, the deep bags etched under his eyes would serve as another reminder of just how tiring you could be.

“I’m fine.” You wipe the corner of your mouth, cringing at the slight dampness you find there. Great. Not only did you fall asleep on Steve but you also drooled on him. “I think it’s time for me to head out.”

Leaping from the couch, you get to the foyer in record time. Your shoes are already halfway on before Steve appears, standing in between you and the door.

“You don’t have to. You know the guest room is always made up for you if you want it.” He bargains.

“I— I have to go. I’m sorry. Goodnight Steve.”

“Please, you’re tired. At least let me drive you.” He’s practically pleading, already moving to grab his car keys.

“Just let me go, Steve!” Your outburst echoes throughout the empty house.

Steve takes a step back away from you. “I’m sorry.”

Regret washes over you like a tidal wave. You can feel yourself being ripped under the current. You curse yourself, not for drowning, but for dragging Steve down with you.

“No, don’t apologize. Fuck, I’m sorry. I just—”

“Have to go?” He supplies.

He sounds dejected like this is another battle with you that he’s already resigned himself to losing. You fumble through another apology, another goodbye.

You don’t dare to look behind you as you make your way to your car. It isn’t until you’re halfway down your street that you spare a glance at your rear-view mirror. Steve is still standing there, the door wide open.

You don’t know why you keep having dreams where you ask Steve to stay.

You’re the one who is always leaving.

—

“She was totally flirting with you!” You scream whisper, keeping in mind that the diner is mostly empty aside from the loyal patrons that come in every weekday for a hearty serving of beef and potatoes.

Steve showed up to the coffee shop today, sans Dustin, asking if you’d like to grab a bite to eat after your shift. You obliged, hoping to make up for your outburst from the other night. He still hasn’t mentioned it. For your sake, you hope that he won’t.

“No, she wasn’t.” You thought Steve’s obliviousness when it came to romance only extended to you. Apparently, you were wrong because he was completely ignoring the way that the waitress was batting her eyelashes at him.

“Yes, she was!” You take a fry from the basket and Steve pushes his strawberry milkshake toward you, already knowing that you were going to subject him to the gross combination and he might as well get it over with. “Y’know, if you wanted to ask her out you could. Don’t let me hold you back.”

“You’re not holding me back. Anyways, isn’t it weird, having your ex-girlfriend be your wingman?”

“I’m still your best friend. Besides, you totally helped me out with Brandon so I just thought I’d return the favor.”

“What are you talking about?” Steve asks, causing you to furrow your brow at him. Despite having loved him for a long time and having known him for even longer, his inability to read a room knows no bounds.

“Last week at Family Video?” You utter the words with slow precision, but recognition fails to make its way across Steve’s face. “Brandon Clayborn asked you for horror movie recommendations and you sent him to me.”

“And he asked you out?” Steve gapes at you from over the rim of his milkshake. The idea of grabbing the glass and slogging the pink confection at him crosses your mind, but instead, you clench your fists at your side.

“Is that so unbelievable?” At your response, Steve’s brows pinch together. He toys with the wrapping paper of his straw, folding it over and over again.

“And what did you say?”

“I said yes.”

“Oh.” Steve finally stops fiddling with the piece of paper. It’s shredded to pieces in a pile in front of him. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out the bulging leather wallet. “I’ll be right back.”

With that, Steve slides out of the booth and walks up to the counter. The giggles of the waitress can be heard throughout the diner. You turn toward the window so that you don’t have to see her scrawl her number on the receipt, and you catch your muddled reflection. You don’t know if you look like you’ve seen a ghost or if you’ve become one.

–

Due to unforeseen circumstances, your second date with Brandon had to be rescheduled. A literal rain check. He’d sputtered out numerous apologies over the crackling phone line, saying how the picnic he had planned didn’t account for a torrential downpour. You promised him that it was fine, that you didn’t even wanna leave the house in this weather. You didn’t think anyone would want to leave the house in this weather, which is why you grew shocked at the sound of the doorbell ringing.

Then you promptly remember that this is Hawkins and that anyone or anything could be behind that door. Grabbing the old wooden bat you keep under the couch for emergencies, you inch toward the door. The frantic ringing of the bell matches the beat of your heart. Peering through the peephole, you sigh in both relief and frustration before flinging the door open.

“Are you insane?!” You practically scream at the soaking wet boy. “You scared the shit outta me.”

Steve stands in the threshold, shaking his head like a dog would to get all the water out. You flinch as the droplets inevitably fall on you. The fine mist and wind that he’s brought in with him chill you to the bone.

“Sorry.” He smiles sheepishly.

“How did you even manage to get this wet in the twenty feet from the street to the porch?” You ask, peering behind him to look for the familiar maroon vehicle. It isn’t there.

“I walked here.”

You balk at him. Sure, Steve has been known to act recklessly from time to time, but never without reason. Instead of taking the time to berate him for being so stupid, you take one look at the soggy shivering boy and shut the door, turning on your heel towards your bedroom. You don’t need to look behind you to know that he’s following you.

“C’mon, you’re gonna catch a cold if you stay in those wet clothes.”

You rummage through your drawers, managing to find a t-shirt and sweatpants that you had stolen from him long ago. Now is as good a time as any to give it back, right? Stuffing the items in your arm, you thrust them into Steve’s hands and direct him to the bathroom. He doesn’t need direction. He knows the floorplan of your house just like he knows you–all too well.

While Steve is in the bathroom, you go to shut the drawers that you had left open in the rush to find him something to wear. The bottom drawer has always had a problem, getting stuck at the most inopportune moments. Lifting it just a little, you slam the drawer back into place which causes the contents on top of your dresser to shake with the force. The silver picture frame falls on its face and you go to place it right side up.

It’s a photograph of the two of you from last summer. Robin had pointed the camera at you and at the very last second Steve grabbed you and placed a sloppy kiss on your cheek, causing you to squeal in delight. The memory stings. You almost want to put it face down again so that you don’t have to be reminded of what once was. Instead, you’re interrupted by the sound of a lock turning and quiet footfalls on carpeted floors.

The moment Steve steps into your bedroom, you’re drenched in nostalgia. It’s been months since you’ve seen him like this–standing in his pajamas in your bedroom. It’s moments like this that are the hardest. The ones where you can feel how everything and nothing has changed. It feels like relief and restriction.

You realize you’re still standing in front of the dresser and go to sit on your bed. You need to put space between you and Steve. He has this insane gravitational pull and you know that if you stay around him like this for too long, you’ll end up back in his orbit.

He steps cautiously around the room like he’s afraid of stepping on a landmine. One wrong move and everything could blow up. Standing in front of the dresser, he takes the dreaded picture frame into his hands. He’s still using a towel to dry his hair when he finally speaks.

“It’s a good picture.” He says, simply. The pads of his thumbs wipe away the layer of dust that coats your sunbleached faces.

“It is.” You manage to choke out. “Why are you here, Steve?”

He places the picture frame back down on the dresser. It’s perfectly angled towards you. The ghost of your smiling face taunting you in your own bedroom.

“It’s funny, y’know?” Steve lets out a mirthless laugh.

“What is?”

“We broke up and the only person I wanna talk about it with is you.”

All of the air has been sucked out of the room. Steve has always been good at taking your breath away.

“I mean, I get it. I get why we broke up. I do.” He lets out a deep breath before continuing on, not giving you a chance to interrupt. “Except, I don’t. I can’t wrap my head around how one day we were fine and the next day we weren’t. I know that I’m not good enough for you–I’ve always known that. I guess I just wanna know when you finally figured it out.”

His words make you ache. A tightness blooms in your chest and spreads all the way down your arms to your trembling fingertips. You want so badly to reach out to him. He’s on the other side of the room but he might as well be on the other side of the world. You don’t know how to bridge the ravine that you’ve put between the two of you. You know for him you’d make the leap, uncaring of the abyss below. The thought scares you so much that your fists tangle in your bedsheets, hoping for something to keep you from falling back in.

“The last thing I wanted was for you to feel like you weren’t good enough for me. You’ve always been good enough, Steve.”

You can tell from the shake of his head that he doesn’t believe you.

“I thought that maybe you just needed a little space, a little time. Then I have to watch you go on dates and move on like it’s easy. Like the fact that we’re not together anymore doesn’t eat you up inside.”

“It’s not easy! It’s killing me!” Tears collect in your eyes, blurring your vision. “I don’t know why I can’t just be happy with you. I want to be happy with you.”

“What are you so afraid of?” Steve begs, his question punctuated by a boom of thunder and a flash of lightning.

You found solace in the eye of the storm. Once the storm passed, you didn’t know what to do with the wreckage. Calm didn’t provide comfort. Instead, it only reminded you that there was likely another storm to come. Steve has always been better at picking up the pieces and patching things up. You didn’t want to become just another thing he had to fix. So, you pushed him away.

He still came back.

This time he brought the storm with him.

“I’m afraid that the minute I actually enjoy everything, it’ll all get taken away from me.” You confess, roughly wiping away your tears.

Steve crosses the room and kneels in front of you. His hair is still slightly damp, a stray strand hanging in front of his forehead. You brush it out of the way and he catches your wrist, placing a kiss in the palm of your hand.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He murmurs, lips still brushing your skin. He says it like a promise. You wish the words were tangible, that you could close your fist around them and hold them close. “Tell me what I can do to fix it.”

The words simultaneously endear and exasperate you. Here is this boy who loves you, sitting in front of you telling you to let him love you. Here you are, about to tell him that he can’t.

“What if you can’t fix it, Steve? What if I’m unfixable?”

He doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he takes both of your hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles.

“Then I’ll still love you anyway.”

Steve looks up and the clouds part. You’ve been so caught up in your doom and gloom, that you’d forgotten what it felt like to see the light of day. You lean down, closing your eyes, pressing your forehead to his.

“Why?” The question comes out watery and wanting.

“I can’t help it.” He breathes out.

You understand the feeling.

You bridge the gap, uncaring of the abyss that lies below. You’d fall through eternity if it meant you got to do it with him. His lips feel exactly like you remember them–like home. He kisses soft and slow, hands anchored at your hips as if to prevent you from floating away. When you break apart, both of you gasping for air, there’s uncertainty in his eyes. It fades away as soon as you lean back on the bed, pulling at his sleeves and dragging him with you.

The night is composed of soft apologies and even softer sighs, accompanied by the din of rain against the roof. It isn’t until far into the night that the storm finally subsides, leaving the pavement to glow in the morning sun.

Waking up next to Steve is a revelation. You don’t know how you ever survived without it. He’s all sleepy smiles and tired eyes, drowsily pulling you closer to him. Resting your head on his chest, you’re soothed by the rhythmic thump of his beating heart.

“Y’know, you didn’t have to walk in the rain just to say that you wanna get back together. You’re so dramatic.” You joke, hoping that it isn’t too soon to start poking fun.

His chest rumbles with laughter, the reverberations quelling your fears.

“In my defense, it wasn’t raining when I started walking.” He says, voice still thick with sleep. “Besides, you love it.”

You smile contentedly to yourself, not offering up a response besides a hum of agreement. He’s right. You do love him. Rain or shine.

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