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sunshinesteviee · 2 years

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call it what you want - s.h.

summary: you find yourself on the edge of friendship and something more with steve at a halloween party. for @sparklingsin's spookinktober writing challenge with the prompt "quick, switch costumes with me!" wc: 8.1k wtf warnings: friends to lovers. alcohol consumption. smut!!! 18+!!! f!reader. a/n: this is the longest thing i've ever written and it killed me lol i hope y'all like it. feedback is much appreciated! love u sm. also huge shoutout to @sparklingsin and @familyvideostevie for reading this and helping me out and listening to me complain about this gd fic for weeks i love u so much thanks for putting up w me

Masterlist

Parties weren’t Steve’s thing. Not anymore, anyway. And Halloween parties in particular were definitely crossed off the list, especially after everything that had happened with Nancy a few years ago. He was over Nancy, they were even friends now, but something about the idea of going to another Halloween party stirred up a sick feeling in Steve’s stomach that he wanted to run from. Somehow, though, Robin had managed to convince him that it would be fun.

Really, it hadn’t taken much convincing on Robin’s part — all she had to do was mention you, and Steve was in, though he’d never admit that to her. It was stupid, she thought, the way the two of you were constantly pining for each other, but refusing to do anything about it. She’d heard enough lovesick complaints from her best friends, and decided she’d take it into her own hands. And Halloween seemed like the perfect opportunity. She wasn’t quite sure how yet, but she was sure the night would end at the very least with confessions. She’d make sure of it.

And so, Steve was two drinks deep in a crowded house, filled with more regret than beer. Robin had somehow disappeared after one drink, Eddie was nowhere in sight, and he still had yet to see you. Maybe you’d decided not to come. If so, the whole night would be a waste. He hadn’t missed parties one bit. The stuffy, crowded rooms filled with sweaty bodies pressed against each other as music pounded in his ears, pulsing lights making his head throb.

It didn’t used to be so bad. He used to be the keg king, down shot after shot, maybe get lucky, and still wake up the next day more or less fine. Now, two drinks usually did him in, and he didn’t always like the feeling of being drunk. Of being out of control. To be fair, he’d taken quite a few beatings that had definitely fucked with his head since he’d last been to a proper party. But parties just weren’t enjoyable anymore. Especially when all of his friends had disappeared, and he didn’t know anyone surrounding him.

Tipping the last of his drink into his mouth, Steve crushed the red plastic cup in his hand and tossed it into the trash can nearby that was already almost overflowing. A familiar laugh sounded behind him, a sweet sound above the loud bass, “Whoa there, champ. How many drinks have you had?!”

Steve already had a smile on his face as he turned around, and his jaw nearly hit the floor at the sight of you. You hadn’t ditched. And better yet, you looked fucking gorgeous. He let out an adoring laugh, eyebrows furrowing together, forehead wrinkling as he asked, “Champ?”

“Your costume, silly,” you nodded towards his outfit as you reached out, placing your warm palm against his bicep. Without thinking, Steve leaned into your touch, stepping in closer to you, his hand grazing your hip slightly.

Since it had been a last-minute decision, and since he wasn’t fond of Halloween anyways, Steve had decided to pull his baseball uniform from high school out of his closet. It fit a little tighter than it used to, but would work well enough for one night. The ugly green and orange baseball jersey was tucked into a pair of baseball pants, and he’d even tucked his wild hair underneath a Hawkins high baseball hat. Steve’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, the soft pink obvious on his pale skin, even in the dim lighting of the house. “Oh, right. Yeah, I think I kinda… knocked it out of the park with this one.”

The snort that left your mouth had Steve smiling again as you clapped a hand over your mouth, “Oh my god. That was fucking awful, Steve. It does look good, though. Can’t believe you’d ruin all of your pretty hair under that hat.”

Steve flushed again, a common occurrence that he couldn’t help when he was around you, and shrugged, “What can I say? I’m dedicated to the costume. I like your costume, too, by the way; you look nice.”

Your eyes lit up at his compliment as you bounced on the balls of your feet nervously, “Yeah? Thanks, Stevie.” You were wearing a short shirt that had “Camp Crystal Lake” printed across the chest, with a picture of a lake underneath it, and a pair of red shorts that were also nearly too short; you were a counselor from one of your favorite horror movies, Friday the 13th. Quite frankly, the costume fit you perfectly, accentuating all of your best features, and you weren’t oblivious to the way his eyes had caught on you when he’d first turned around.

“Yeah! That’s a great movie.”

“I thought you didn’t like horror movies?” you questioned, a teasing tone lacing your words. You and Eddie had had to convince him more than once to watch a horror movie on one of your movie nights, and he usually hid underneath a blanket for more than half the movie.

“Well, no,” Steve huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he narrowed his eyes at you, “But I’ve seen that one, and it wasn’t bad. Do you want a drink?"

When you quickly agreed, Steve’s hand left your back as he pulled back from you. Before you could mourn the warmth of his hand on your skin, though, his hand was reaching toward yours. “C’mon then, babe.”

Without a second thought, your hand slipped into his, fingers slotting together easily. Steve started pulling you through the crowd, weaving between bodies skillfully. The grip he had on your hand, though gentle, was firm, as if you’d be lost forever if he let go. As if the crowds of people would swallow you whole and carry you away from him. He glanced back a few times to make sure you were alright, flashing you a small smile every single time his eyes caught yours.

The alcohol was finally starting to hit Steve, making him feel a bit lighter, though maybe it was just from being near you. Your hand in his was enough to make him feel tipsy. To have him questioning if it was real. He definitely didn’t need to have another drink, not if you were going to be holding his hand like your life depended on it. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, to be close to you, but the alcohol had his senses dialed up. Steve knew that if he wasn’t careful, he might let his real feelings for you slip, and he didn’t want to risk the friendship you had.

Steve shook his head in an attempt to clear it, though the alcohol was making it a bit difficult, and refocused back on you. He gave you a lopsided smile, working to untangle his fingers from yours, “Whaddya want, cutie? Punch? I had two cups and it’s kinda strong because I’m definitely starting to feel it, and—”

“I’ll have punch!” You’d listen to him ramble for hours, but the kitchen was even more packed than the room you’d just been in. You didn’t see Steve drunk, or even tipsy, often, and you adored the way his face flushed red and he started rambling. He’d clearly had just enough to have him feeling good, not enough to tip him over the edge, and it was endearing the way he seemed to let go a little bit.

Not wanting to be away from your side for too long, Steve hurried across the kitchen to get a cup and fill it with punch for you. He pushed by a few people on his way back, trying to be gentler than the asshole who had pushed you, and frowned as some of the drink spilled over the edge of the cup and ran down his fingers. The pout was still on his lips as he approached you, holding the cup out, “Sorry, didn’t mean to spill it. Here you go, babe.”

Taking the cup from him carefully, you smiled gratefully, glad that you hadn’t been the one to cross the kitchen, “Thanks, Stevie. You didn’t get one for yourself?”

“Nah, if I have more I’ll be suffering tomorrow,” he replied. As he talked, Steve lifted his hand that was now covered in the sticky punch, and slipped one of his fingers into his mouth to clean it off. Heat rushed to your cheeks and you stared in disbelief as Steve did it again with another finger. This time, he caught the look on your face and his own eyes went wide as he stared at you in confusion, completely oblivious, “What?”

You nearly choked on your drink, and you quickly shook your head, turning away from Steve so he wouldn’t see the reaction you were having. There was no doubt you were attracted to Steve — how could you not be? He was kind and funny and brave, and treated you better than anyone else ever had. The problem was, he wasn’t your boyfriend, and you were fairly certain he had no intention of that. He was a nice guy to everyone. Just because he called you babe or cutie from time to time, and held your hand or shared blankets with you… that didn’t mean he was interested, and you’d done your best to shove those feelings down. You didn’t want to lose Steve’s friendship above all else, so if you had to pretend your feelings for him were strictly platonic, you could do that. But watching him lick his fingers clean sparked something in your stomach, and made your face feel hot. To be fair, you had already downed a shot with Nancy while the two of you were getting ready, so maybe you could just blame the way your thighs clenched on the alcohol.

Instead of responding, you downed half the cup of punch just in time for Steve to look back at you, a grin breaking out on his face as he chanted teasingly, “Chug, chug, chug!”

You nearly choked again, this time as you laughed, sputtering some of the red liquid out of your mouth, “Steve!” You wiped the back of your hand across your mouth to catch the drops sliding down your chin with a giggle, “Stop itttt.”

“Hey!” Steve’s pout matched yours, eyes narrowing at you, bottom lip pushing out, “How come you can tease me when I’m drinking but I can’t tease you?”

Your eyes may have lingered too long on Steve’s lips as he pouted, but he didn’t notice with the way he was unabashedly returning the favor as your tongue darted out to catch the last of the punch that had spilled past your lips. You wondered what his lips would feel like against yours. If they were as soft as they looked. If he was as good a kisser as the girls from high school claimed. You shook your head, desperately trying to focus so you could answer Steve’s question instead of gawk at him, “No, it’s not allowed.”

Steve laughed hysterically as his arms wrapped over your shoulders so he could pull you into him. He got even more affectionate than normal when he’d had some alcohol. Pressing his lips to your hair, he shook his head, but was totally sincere as he replied, “Okay, fine! I’ll never make fun of you again, cutie. Promise. Should we find Robin? Or maybe Nancy and Jonathan?”

His words had you feeling like you were on fire once more, but you quickly agreed, needing to find someone else to get your mind off of Steve. To think of something other than SteveSteveSteveSteve. Your cheek pressed into the rough fabric of the jersey he was wearing, and you nodded against his chest, “Yeah, let’s go find them.”

“Wait,” he paused, fingers wrapping around your arm as you tried to pull away from his grasp, “you still have…” His sentence trailed off as he licked the pad of his thumb before placing his free hand against your cheek, fingers slipping into the hair just behind your ear. His thumb pressed to your chin, rubbing across your skin carefully in an attempt to get rid of the last of the punch that you’d spilled. Steve’s hand slid down, fingers hooking underneath your chin as his thumb dragged down, pulling on your bottom lip slightly, and you thought for a moment that he was going to kiss you then and there, his eyes flashing with something you hadn’t seen in them before. But as quickly as it came, it disappeared, and Steve was back to his tipsy, bubbly self, “Got it!”

You felt absolutely breathless, frozen in place as Steve pulled away searching the crowd for anyone he recognized. “You coming or what, babe?”

“I, uh–” you shook your head to clear it and moved towards Steve, “Yeah, ‘m coming.”

Finding Robin seemed to be a lost cause, but Nancy and Jonathan had been easy to find, talking to some of Nancy’s friends from high school, drinks in hand. And after talking for a bit, it didn’t take much to pull your friends away to dance with you. You immediately grabbed Steve, feeling bolder than you normally would be, and pulled him into you, chest to chest.

Steve’s heart thudded in his chest as his hands grabbed at your hips at the same time, fingers pressing lightly into the soft skin there as you swayed to the music. Had he been sober and more aware of what he was really doing, he probably would’ve been much more flustered with the way you were pressed up against him. And, had he been sober, he would’ve seen the look Nancy and Jonathan were exchanging knowingly, with Nancy in on Robin’s plan.

–

Robin found you a bit later, the sound of your name being called over the music was enough to get your attention, and you quickly stopped dancing next to Nancy to search the crowd of people surrounding you. It wasn’t hard to find Robin, who was already pretty tall and was wearing heels for her costume. You grinned at her, throwing your arms out to her for a hug as you shrieked her name, “Robin!”

“Hey, hot stuff!” she replied, wrapping you up in her arms, careful of the drink in her hand, “Where have you beeeen? I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

You scoffed, “Stevie and I have been dancing. Thought maybe you weren’t here,” you said, pushing your bottom lip out into a pout.

“I am! I have been the whole time!” she laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world, “I’m glad I found you! We’re gonna play a game!” She paused and turned to point at Steve who had been watching the two of you, “You too, dingus! You’re gonna play, too.”

“What? No, Robin, I don’t—”

“Please, Stevie?” you asked, cutting him off with wide, pleading eyes, even though you had no idea what the game actually was, or who you’d be playing with.

The alcohol Steve had consumed was now starting to wear off, while it seemed like it was in full swing for you. Had Robin shown up half an hour ago while he was still feeling tipsy, and was actually dancing with you, he would’ve agreed no problem. Now, as he started to think a bit more clearly, he knew that Robin’s drunk ideas usually weren’t her best, and at the very least, he’d make sure you all didn’t get into too much trouble. And, as always, he couldn’t say no to the look you were giving him. “Okay, okay, fine! I’ll play.”

Reaching out to close the distance between the two of you, your fingers curled around Steve’s bicep to pull him closer. You were giving him the brightest smile he’d ever seen as you leaned into his side, “Yay! C’mon, Harrington.”

The smile that pulled at Steve’s lips was involuntary as your hand pushed down his arm and into his own hand, tugging him behind you as you followed Robin through the house, back to the other side where she’d been beforehand with a few other friends. They weren’t really people you knew – mostly Robin’s friends from band, and Eddie and a few of his friends – but you weren’t going to let that stop you from having fun.

“Okay!” Robin clapped her hands, drawing the attention of the small group, “Everyone stand up, get in a circle. We’re playing a new game!”

“What game is it?” Eddie grumbled, ever the contrarian, though he was getting to his feet to do as Robin said.

Steve had also reluctantly joined the circle, standing at one of Robin’s sides, arms crossed over his chest as he waited impatiently for her to explain what was going on. You couldn’t help but giggle at his sullen expression as you glanced at him from the other side of your friend standing between the two of you. Your laugh caught his attention, and he cracked a smile as he glanced over Robin to look at you, eyebrows furrowing together as if he was asking “What’s so funny?”

You shook your head, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth with a smile as you quickly glanced away, trying to focus on what Robin was saying. Only after you’d listen to half of the “rules” did you realize that this was some kind of speed costume changing game, and you groaned, feeling a bit too tipsy for trying to change quickly. Not only that, but this felt like a game that some boy in high school had come up with in hopes to see the girl he liked half naked.

“On the count of three, find someone that you want to change costumes with, and then we’ll time everyone! One… two… three!”

You’d been counting on switching with Robin, considering she was right next to you, and you could probably get into at least some of her clothes. Steve had a similar idea – who else was he going to switch with when he’d already shared clothes with her before? – and turned in her direction. Robin, on the other hand, had a different idea, pointing aggressively at Nancy who was across the circle from her, “Nance! You’re my partner!” She quickly stepped out from between you and Steve and darted over to Nancy without letting her respond.

At the same time, both you and Steve groaned in frustration, “Robin!” She all but cackled, an evil grin on her face that you knew meant this had been her plan all along. You’d told her about your feelings for Steve, but you never expected her to use that information against you.

Still, you turned to Steve with a grin, hooking your arm through his to pull him closer to you, “Guess you’re my partner, Harrington! No backing out now!”

As soon as he realized that partners were being shoved in one of the closets one at a time to change as fast as possible, Steve wished desperately that he could back out. His face burned at just the thought of being in a confined space with you while you took off your clothes. He didn’t have long to think about it, though, as after two other pairs were timed, Robin quickly pushed the two of you in, closing the door behind you and plunging you into complete darkness, except for the small sliver from under the door.

You and Steve weren’t strangers to being close to one another, but this felt like a new level of intimacy, and Steve didn’t know what to do. His heart was pounding in his ears, so loud he was worried you’d be able to hear it, too, considering how close you were. It didn’t seem to affect you as much, though maybe that was just the alcohol, and you giggled with an urgent whisper, “Quick! Switch costumes with me, Steve! I don’t wanna lose!” With that, you pulled your shirt over your head, nearly elbowing Steve in the face with how fast you were moving. Steve immediately averted his eyes to the dark ceiling, wanting to be a gentleman, though he’d be lying if he said he’d never thought about you shirtless.

Frustrated with how slow he was moving, you gave his shoulder a weak push, “C’mon, Stevie!”

Steve huffed, amused with how badly you wanted to win, even though he knew it wasn’t going to happen, “Okay, I’m going!” He started unbuttoning the baseball jersey as fast as he could as you started to shove your shorts down your legs, and suddenly his buttons became a lot more interesting, fingers fumbling with the small pieces of plastic. The closet felt scorching hot as he shrugged off the jersey and quickly pulled the plain white tee he was wearing underneath off as well, shoving it in your direction. “Jesus, babe. Here.”

The shirt you’d been wearing had been quickly dropped to the floor as you pulled Steve’s shirt over your head, immediately engulfed in his scent. He always smelled nice, and this shirt was no exception. As much as you wanted to hug yourself and breathe in Steve’s comforting scent, you also wanted to win, and slipped the jersey on, motioning for Steve to take his pants off next. Your voice was frantic when you spoke again, “Pants! Give ‘em to me!”

The giggling from his friends outside the door was distracting to Steve as he thought of ways he could get back at Robin for this. It was torture, really, being shoved into a small space with the girl he liked while they undressed, but in a situation where he couldn’t touch her without seeming like a perv. He was only snapped out of his thoughts when your hands reached out towards his waist, going for the button on his pants. There was no way he could let that happen, and pushed your hands away, all but shouting, “I got it!”

He quickly shimmied out of his pants and traded them with you for the tiny shorts you’d been wearing. Groaning internally, Steve pulled them up his legs and knew immediately that he looked ridiculous. They barely fit over his thighs, and his ass was nearly hanging out. It was bordering on completely inappropriate to be wearing in public; he might as well just be wearing his boxers with how little it left to the imagination. “These do not fit.”

Just then, you stumbled forward as you tried to get Steve’s baseball pants on, hand catching on his chest for the second time that evening. His hand shot out as if on instinct, grasping at the bare skin of your hip to steady you, even though there wasn’t really any place for you to go. You were giggling like a maniac, breathless as you murmured a thanks and pulled the pants up all the way. It was only as you buttoned the pants that you realized your shirt had dropped on the ground, and you grabbed it, shoving it into his hands, failing at your horrible attempt to avoid looking at his bare chest, “Last one!”

Steve stared at the fabric in his hands skeptically; the shirt was already short on you, there was no way this wasn’t going to be the most extreme crop top anyone had ever seen on him, “I don’t wanna rip it!”

“You won’t!” you reassured him, “‘s okay if you do, anyway. ‘M never gonna wear it again.”

Letting out what was possibly the most dramatic sigh you’d ever heard, Steve pulled your shirt over his head. The fabric stretched around his arms and chest, the hem falling just below his pecs. His entire stomach was exposed, and while it wasn’t exactly what he’d prepared for that night, the smile on your face in the dark made it worth it.

As your hand reached for the doorknob, Steve realized you were missing one last piece of his costume, “Wait! Can't forget this.” He lifted his hat off of his head and placed it on yours carefully, running his hand through his hair, “Okay, we’re good.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest as he placed his hat on your head, and you nearly dropped everything to kiss him then and there, but the sound of someone laughing outside the door caught your attention. You gave Steve a grin and then pushed the door open, nearly falling over yourself as you shouted, “We’re done! Did we win?!”

Steve’s hand was at your hip again to steady you as he followed you out. He finally felt like he could breathe again. The whole thing couldn’t have taken more than a few minutes, but it felt like he’d spent a lifetime in the closet with you. So close, but so far.

So wrapped up in his own thoughts, Steve missed everything you and Robin were discussing, until there was a loud wolf whistle from someone else in the group, “Damn, Harrington! Who knew you had all that ass!”

Without even glancing in the direction of the noise, Steve knew who it was. He flipped his middle finger up but grinned at his friend, “Fuck off, Munson!”

You let out a laugh as you turned to Steve to say something, but you felt like all of the air had been sucked out of your lungs when you finally properly saw Steve. It’d been too dark in the closet to really see what your clothes looked like on Steve, so you were surprised to see how little of your costume actually covered him. His biceps, stomach, and legs were on full display, and somehow, it still wasn’t enough. Your eyes caught on his arms, the small moles and freckles that covered his stomach, and then, the trail of dark hair that disappeared into the waistband of the much-too-short shorts.

Robin, who was standing next to you, nudged your shoulder, a smirk evident on her face. Her plan was working. You were short-circuiting. Even though your head was feeling less fuzzy due to the alcohol, you might as well have been drunk on Steve. You watched for a few seconds as he found space on the couch to sit down, his cheeks flushed a light pink, and then turned to your friend.

“Robin!” you hissed her name, grabbing at her elbow to pull her closer to you. You gave her the most menacing glare you could muster, but before you could say anything else, she let out a low giggle.

She looked quite pleased with herself, leaning in and whispering loudly, “Did anything happen in there?”

“No! How would that even be possible?” you asked, laughing a little yourself at her ridiculousness.

“Dunno, but a girl’s gotta try. Still have the rest of the night to make something happen.”

As much as you didn’t want to give in to Robin’s hand, you were starting to realize that if she was trying this hard to get something to happen between you and Steve, it probably meant that Steve felt something for you too. You narrowed your eyes at her and then huffed, all but stomping away in search of Steve. If something was going to happen, it had to happen before you lost the confidence.

He was still sitting on the couch, chatting with Eddie, but quickly looked up as you walked over, eyebrows furrowed in concern at your seriousness, “Are you okay?”

“Will you come with me?” you asked instead of answering his question, holding your hand out to him.

“Yeah, of course,” he replied, still confused, but took your hand in his and stood up, allowing you to lead him away. You weaved in and out of people, trudging up the stairs to find a quieter place to talk.

When you finally found an empty bathroom, you flicked on the lights and pulled Steve inside, shutting and locking the door behind you so no one would bother you. The music from downstairs had quieted to a dull thud and suddenly the idea of confessing your feelings felt much more daunting in the harsh light of the bathroom. You quickly turned away from Steve to try to take a deep breath, wringing your hands. Steve watched in concern, reaching a hand out to rest on your forearm gently, “Hey, what’s going on? Are you okay? Did something happen?”

You were just going to have to go for it. Turning around quickly to face him again, you started rambling, “I don’t really know how to say this, so I think I just have to jump into the fucking deep end and say it. Especially since Robin’s getting on my nerves with all of the scheming and smug smiles, which I’m sure you’ve noticed, but if I’m reading this wrong, I’m really sorry, we can just pretend it never happened, and–”

“Say what, babe?” Steve interrupted, shaking his head which caused his hair to bounce slightly, “You’re worrying me.”

“I really like you, Steve. A lot.”

It was silent for a moment, and you couldn’t tell what Steve was thinking with the way he was staring at you so intently, nearly scrutinizing. Your heart began pounding in your chest, worried that you had read the entire situation wrong. His arms crossed over his chest and he let out a soft sigh, “You’re drunk.”

“I’m not!” you insisted quickly, shaking your head vehemently, “Maybe the tiniest bit tipsy, but mostly sober, I swear. I’m– I’m serious, Steve. I just… I thought maybe Robin had a point? And honestly, you look so fucking good in those shorts, and I–”

You were cut off as Steve surged forward, one hand moving to cup the back of your head, the other grabbing at your hip to pull your body into his. Before you could process what was happening, Steve’s lips were on yours and he was kissing you desperately. Your hands struggled to find purchase as they landed on his shoulders and you kissed him back, hardly able to believe that this was actually happening. That you were kissing Steve. But just as soon as you’d started to wrap your head around it, Steve pulled back, eyes wide, chest heaving.

“You don’t…” he stopped himself and shook his head as he looked down at the floor for a moment before looking up to you, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that. How long I’ve liked you.” His hand that had grabbed at your side flattened as he smoothed over the fabric of the baseball pants, his gaze dropping down to the floor again bashfully.

“Are you drunk?” you asked in disbelief.

Steve laughed, a soft and amused sound, as he shook his head and repeated your earlier sentiment, “No. Just barely tipsy, almost completely sober. I feel sober now.”

The kiss had sobered you up, too. Your hands slid down from his shoulders, palms resting flat against his chest as you tilted your head up so you could see him clearly. You could count each individual eyelash if you wanted. Count each and every freckle on his face. But all you really wanted was to kiss him.

Your lips met his again as you pushed your chin up, fingers curling into the fabric of the shirt as Steve sighed into your mouth. Both of his hands dropped to your waist, pressing against your body gently until the small of your back bumped into the counter behind you. He squeezed your waist again as he murmured against your lips, “Up.”

You jumped just enough as he helped to lift you onto the counter. His palms grasped at your thighs, fingers digging into the softness there as he stepped into the space between your legs. Once his lips were back on yours, his hands dropped down to your ass and pulled you forward on the counter easily. The feeling made you gasp; your shorts on him left little to the imagination with how you were pressed against him, “Steve.” Your own hands slid down from where they were resting against his chest and pushed against the soft lines of his abdomen, feeling up towards the tiny shirt on him.

“Mm?” he hummed, distracted by the feeling of your hands on his skin. His lips trailed along your jaw, nipping at your skin softly.

“Want you,” you breathed out, eyes fluttering shut momentarily at the feeling of his lips on your neck.

This caught Steve’s attention and his eyes lit up at your admission, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly, cheeks filling with heat as you recalled the moment earlier in the evening when Steve had licked the spilled punch off of his fingers, “Want… want your fingers.”

“Shit, okay, babe. Just let me…” he trailed off as his fingers hooked into the waistband of the baseball pants. You lifted your hips to help, letting him drag the fabric down your legs and drop them to the floor. Steve’s eyes caught on the wet spot in the center of your underwear and he cursed softly as his hands slid back up your legs, thumbs sliding up the inside of your thighs. A smirk was growing on his lips, “Y’already so wet, baby.”

You let out a soft huff of embarrassment, cheek pressing into your shoulder to ease the burn as you looked up at Steve, “You’re… you just… you look really fucking hot in basically a crop top and short shorts and then you’re kissing me like I’ve never been kissed before, and–”

“Relax, cutie. I got you,” Steve’s eyes softened, the pads of his thumbs rubbing small circles up your inner thigh, inching closer and closer to the hem of your panties. At the same time, the tip of his nose brushed down the length of yours before gently nudging up against yours until he caught your lips with his own.

He kissed you a bit softer than he had before, murmuring as his fingers slipped under the hem of your panties, rubbing back and forth against the delicate skin, “Can I get rid of these?”

Instead of answering, you lifted your hips off of the counter again so Steve could pull the fabric off. It dangled off of your ankle for a moment before falling to the ground to join the pants. Steve’s hands were warm at your knees as he pushed your legs apart, but before he could properly touch you, you grabbed at his wrist, fingers circling around it carefully. He watched you in confusion, about to speak but quickly cut himself off when you finally did what you’d been wanting to do all evening.

You pulled his hand up to your mouth, kissing his palm once before your tongue darted out to circle his middle and ring fingers. Steve’s jaw dropped open slightly, eyes somehow growing even wider as you took his fingers into your mouth, his breath hitching, “Jesus fucking christ, babe, I—” Your hand still wrapped around his wrist gave it a small tug, releasing his fingers from your lips with a small pop. “Fuckin’ hell, baby.”

Steve kissed you like it was his last chance, tugging at your lips and licking into your mouth, distracting you enough to let his hand drift back down to your center. You jolted forward, whining into his mouth as his spit-slick fingers traced up your center until his fingertip nudged into your clit. “Please, Stevie.”

“I got you, baby,” he replied softly, emphasizing his words with another circle over your clit. Then, as if reading your mind, he slipped two fingers into you, drawing quiet moans from the both of you. “Shit, you’re so tight.”

His words had you clenching around his fingers as you leaned back, pressing your palms into the cool countertops beneath you. Finally, he started moving his fingers, thrusting them in and out of your cunt at a slow pace. “Steve, I need— oh, shit— I need more.”

Happy to oblige, Steve picked up the pace a bit, fingertips just grazing the spot that was going to make you see stars. Ever in tune with you and your body, he heard your soft whimper, and saw the way your fingers curled over the edge of the countertop, knuckles white with how tightly you were gripping it. He didn’t really have to ask, but did anyway, a knowing smirk settling over his lips, “Right there?”

“Ri-right there,” you repeated, voice breaking as you nodded frantically and rolled your hips against Steve’s hand. He curled his fingers inside of you and then he doubled down, fingertips repeatedly rubbing against the same spot that had you keening before. And when his thumb pressed to your clit, you nearly fell apart then and there.

“C’mon, baby, know you’re close,” Steve muttered, rubbing his thumb over your clit again and again and again until you were clenching around him and falling over the edge with a loud moan of his name.

Your head fell back, thudding against the mirror on the wall behind you as you gasped for air, knocking Steve’s hat on your head off, chest heaving, “Fuck, Steve, I–” The words died in your throat as your eyes fluttered open, only to find Steve with his fingers halfway to his mouth.

He paused for a moment but quickly took note of the way your breath hitched, eyes wide, and slipped his fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean for the second time that evening. You squirmed against the counter, trying to shuffle off of it as Steve hummed around his fingers and then pulled them from his lips, “Mm, y’taste so good, babe.”

“Holy shit, Stevie,” you gasped as you stumbled off of the counter.

Steve’s hands shot out, grabbing at your hips to steady you, “You okay?”

“More than okay,” you replied, nodding as your hands trailed down Steve’s chest. To prove your point, you leaned up on your toes and pressed your mouth to his. One of your hands curled into the tiny shirt as you kissed him, and the other slid down his chest and abdomen, brushing over the soft hair that disappeared under the waistband of the shorts. You paused, pulling your mouth from Steve’s to look up at him through your eyelashes, “Can I?”

“I— yeah,” Steve nodded hard, hair bouncing with the movement. He looked so pretty — prettier than normal — with his messy hair and wide hazel eyes, lips pink and shiny from your kissing. As he dipped back down to kiss you again, you slid your hand under the waistband of the shorts, but over his boxers. He groaned as you began palming him, and you nearly did as well.

The shorts left very little to the imagination — you knew Steve was big, but feeling him hard in your hand was something completely different. You wanted him, and you weren’t sure you could wait much longer. Your fingers tugged at the shorts and his boxers, discarding them into the pile of your clothes, and you pressed a kiss to his hipbone as you straightened up again, “What… what do you want, Stevie?”

His chest heaved as your hand wrapped around his length, stroking him slowly while you waited for an answer. Steve felt like he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t function. Not when you were finally, finally touching him. He wanted to do so many things with you, but most of all, he wanted you. “Need to be inside you, baby, fuck.”

Your breath hitched a little at his admission and you nodded quickly, wanting whatever he wanted, “Okay. ‘M yours, Stevie.”

“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me, baby,” he groaned, fingers sinking into the soft flesh of your hips again to help you back onto the counter and pull you towards the edge. “Do you— um, I don’t have a condom, I—”

“‘S okay,” you shook your head quickly, leaning back into your hands as one of your legs hooked around Steve’s waist and pulled him in closer to you, “‘m on the pill.”

“Are you sure?” he asked softly, eyes searching yours carefully.

“Positive, Steve. I want you. Have for a long time.”

That was enough for Steve, and he shuffled forward, one hand resting against your waist while the other reached down to line himself up at your entrance. You sucked in a sharp breath as Steve pushed in slowly, your hands sliding into his hair at the back of his head. It was more of a stretch than you were used to, and it must have shown on your face because Steve’s hand left your hip and came up to cradle your cheek carefully, lips pressing to the corner of your mouth, “Okay?”

“Mhm,” you breathed out heavily, eyes flicking open to find Steve’s face centimeters from yours. His thumb rubbed soothingly over your cheekbone, back and forth a few times, and you nodded, “More, Steve.”

Steve nodded, pressing another soft kiss to your lips as he pushed forward again slowly, searching your face for any sign that you wanted to stop. And when he found none, he continued until his hips were flush with yours. His jaw clenched, fingers digging into your thigh that was around his waist, and hitched it higher up his side to push a bit deeper. “Tell me when you’re ready,” he murmured, dropping kisses to your shoulder.

Your mind was racing, but with thoughts of only SteveSteveSteveSteve once again. Your senses were flooded with him; the smell of his cologne and sweat, the sound of his heavy breaths in your ear, the taste of his lips on yours, his hands on your body and his cock buried deep inside your cunt. With a gasping breath, you pulled Steve’s chest to yours, your other leg wrapping around his waist. “Ready. ‘M ready. You can move.”

His hands slid under your arms and wrapped around your back to hold you against him as he began to move his hips slowly, “God, baby, you— fuck— you feel so good around me. So good for me, huh? Been wanting you like this forever.”

You rolled your hips into his as you all but sobbed his name, pressing your heels into the small of his back. He took the hint quickly and picked up the pace, the filthy sound of his skin smacking yours filling the small bathroom. Your hands searched over his shoulders and back, slipping underneath the shirt of yours that he was somehow still wearing, nails digging into his skin.

Steve’s chin hooked over your shoulder, and he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror behind you. He looked just as fucked out as he felt; eyes and hair wild as he clung to you. What really got to him, though, was the sight of his last name sprawled across your back. Maybe, just maybe, you’d finally be his after all of this. Heart racing at the sight, he set a punishing pace, “Look so fuckin’ good in my clothes, sweetheart. You’re so… so fucking perfect.”

“Steve— oh fuck— you feel so good. Gonna come soon, ‘m so close—” you were mumbling incoherently into Steve’s neck, trying your best to meet his thrusts, which became harder as one of his hands snaked down between the two of you to rub over your clit. You clenched around him again at the feeling, pulling the best noise you’d ever heard from the back of Steve’s throat. Your moan echoed his, completely oblivious to the fact that you were still at a party and that someone could probably hear you.

“Gonna come for me, my pretty girl?”

My pretty girl. His and only his. It was enough for you to come undone, Steve’s name intertwined with the curses and filthy moans you couldn’t hold back. His thrusts faltered, hips stuttering against yours as he came, your name spilling from his lips in a way you wanted to hear again and again and again.

Your chest heaved against his as you both tried to catch your breaths, and you left soft, open-mouthed kisses to the crook of his neck where you’d buried your face as you’d come. His hands were gentle as they pushed up your thighs and hips, around your back to slip under the shirt of his you were wearing. They were exceptionally warm, tracing over the curve of your spine as he pressed your body into his, voice soft at your ear as he murmured, “Are you okay?”

You let out a soft laugh as you kissed up Steve’s jaw, fingers slipping into the slightly damp hair at the nape of his neck, twisting a strand around your index finger, “‘M perfect, Steve. Are you okay?”

“Fuck,” he laughed, shaking his head in amusement, popping up from your shoulder to look into your eyes, “I’ve never been better. Meant what I said… been wanting you forever.”

“Yeah?” you asked quietly, feeling bashful, like he wasn’t still inside of you.

“Oh yeah,” he nodded, dipping his head down to press a soft peck to your lips. At the same time, his hands moved back down to your hips, holding you tightly as he finally pulled out. You winced slightly at the feeling, causing a soft apology to tumble from Steve’s lips, followed by another soft peck.

It was quiet as you cleaned each other up as best as you could, stealing sweet kisses from the other more often than necessary. The sound of the music had finally come back into focus, and you realized that it wasn’t as loud as you’d remembered. Still, you’d do it all again, even though you weren't sure you could walk, and you knew your friends were going to give you shit for how long the two of you had disappeared.

As you redressed, you finally swapped your clothes back, but just as you were about to give Steve the last piece of his costume — the jersey — he shook his head, cupping your cheek in his hand, tilting your head up, “You wear it. Looks better on you. And besides, need everyone to know you’re mine now.”

You didn’t put up a fight, grinning and shrugging the jersey back over your shirt that Steve had definitely stretched out. Smoothing down your shirt, you held your hands out to your sides slightly, “Good?”

Steve laughed again, reaching out to swipe a thumb under your eye in an attempt to remove some of the mascara that had smudged, “As good as it’s gonna get. And still perfect. Ready?”

Before he could open the door, you grabbed his hat off of the counter and brushed his hair back before placing it on his head, “For the sex hair. Oh, and Steve?”

“Yeah, cutie?”

“Good game!” you giggled, slapping his ass before bolting out of the bathroom, leaving Steve to stare after you for a few moments with the biggest grin on his face.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington imagine #strangertober #best friend!steve #best friend!steve harrington #steve harrington x f!reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #sunshinehollandd #sunshinehollandd writing

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gumycandyyy · 9 months

Note

Heyo I'm here to request that Male Reader x Winter King you wanted-

Anyways, can you write for a male Reader that used to be Simon and Betty's friend before the crown and the Mushroom War, who randomly shows up in the Land of Ooo? As in, Simon thought that they had died a long time ago, alongside Betty, but the Reader had survived through some odd means and got reunited with him?

Lol, if that's too much, then I'm sorry. It could be a fic or Headcanons, whichever you prefer!

⠂"ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ɢᴏᴛᴛᴇɴ ᴏʟᴅ."⠐

⠂"ᴡᴇ ʙᴏᴛʜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ."⠐

AHJFHJGSKHA HOW DID YOU KNOW I WANTED TO WRITE ABOUT SIMON?? I LOVE THIS WET CAT.

Winter King actually isn't this one, because I wanted to focus on Fionna and Cake ver. Simon

Male reader

Platonic/Romantic (I'm leaving it ambiguous, because I mean, c'mon. It's Simon.)

Type: Headcanons (With a drabble and oneshot mixed in)

Summary: An old friend shows up after a bunch of time-related shenanigans, and is finally ready to settle back down in Ooo. Though this sudden happening is quite a shock to Simon.

⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂

-You used to be an old family friend of Betty's, and met Simon through her.

-Y'all were really close, and they invited you over for dinner every other weekend.

-But one day, you just...

-Vanished.

-Everyone thought you were kidnapped, and Simon and Betty were heartbroken.

-However...

-Through some odd means, you were kept alive for a thousand years.

-It all started one weird day when you bought a little doodad from a garage sale.

-the next thing you knew, you were in a big yellow cube with a pink wall guy.

-Apparently the little thing you bought was an item from another universe, and it was janking up Ooo.

-Aaaaand technically you just committed a serious crime by purchasing the little thing.

-And whether intentional or not, you now had to go on trial for this little accident. You tried to explain what happened, but you were found guilty.

-You were sentenced to a thousand years in some donked up time jail.

-Apparently, you wouldn't age in there, and a thousand years would pass on Ooo before you were set free.

-It was the worst thing that could've ever happened to you.

⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂

-The time jail kept you from losing your sanity, and a thousand years later, you were released.

-You were teleported back to Ooo, which looked quite different than how you remembered it.

-It felt like an eternity since you've seen rolling green hills and a clear blue sky. An eternity since you've breathed familiar air.

-You heard something, about a hundred yards from you.

-You approached the loud noises to see some buff dude with a sick beard and robotic arm beating up some one-eyed monster.

-He punched the creature, and it was sent flying towards you.

-You ducked, and the dude noticed you.

"Ah, sorry man! Didn't see you there!"

-You assured him it was nothing.

"You're not from around here, are you?"

⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂

You shook your head, then blinked confusedly. Well, technically you were. It had just been 1000 years. You tried to get your story straight, then told the guy.

"Woah, so does that mean you're technically a time traveler?"

You shrugged. Time travel hadn't been proven yet, has it? You weren't sure. You asked the guy his name, so you didn't have to refer to him as just 'the guy.'

"Oh, yeah. Name's Finn. Good ol' Finn the H."

"The H.?"

"Y'know, the Human?"

But you were human too. With all due respect, you asked him about his strange surname.

"Oh, uh.. My real last name is Mertens, but I like 'the Human' better. It's only recently other humans have started living in Ooo. So I'm kinda seen as 'that one human' y'know?"

You nodded, trying to make sense of what he said. what had happened that caused humans to leave Ooo? How was that even possible?

The two of you talked for a short while, and you learned a little bit about Ooo. You were used to knowing a lot, but you barely even recognized this place.

"Oh, you're from the 20th century, right?"

You nodded.

"I've got a friend from then, maybe you'd like to meet him? He's one cool dude."

⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂

-You agreed politely, wondering if this 20th century man would help you adjust to life in whatever century this was. What century was this anyway? 30-something?

-Finn ended up taking you to a scrappy little bar filled with people that looked to be made out of candy.

"Anything you'd like to order?"

"Nothing for me, Dirt Beer Guy. Maybe he'd like one, but we're just waiting for-"

⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂

"Simon?"

You stared in disbelief at the face of your old friend, who looked at you with the same expression. He was carrying something under his arm, but he dropped it in shock.

"No way, you know him? That's awesome!"

Simon slowly walked up to you, as if afraid you'd disappear at any second. Tears welled up in the both of your eyes, and you had to suppress breaking down right there. It hadn't occurred to you that this 20th century man could've been Simon, but now that you were seeing him, you realized you subconsciously wished it would be him.

He spoke your name softly, not much more than a whisper, as if anything louder would cause reality to shatter, or one of you to wake up from a dream.

"You... You're really here, aren't you?"

You nodded softly, not daring to say a word. Tears spilled out of your eyes, and Finn looked slightly confused.

"Do you guys, uh.... Wanna step out for a minute?"

You agreed, still quietly, saying it would probably be better to not make a scene. Finn gave you a thumbs up and shooed you out, saying he'd wait for you when you got back inside.

You stepped out of the little bar with Simon, realizing it got dark out while you were inside.

"So..."

"How about we take a walk?"

You nodded, falling into step with Simon as you walked into a nice little forest. The small stream rushing by provided ambient noise.

"How are you here..?"

Simon asked, with an air of disbelief. He blinked, wiping his glasses and rubbing his eyes. As if you'd disappear once he'd open them. You explained what happened, and suddenly gasped.

"If you're here, that means Betty must be here too, right? Where is she?"

Simon sighed, bringing his arms up to hold himself.

"She's..."

"She's not."

You decided not to pry, but you couldn't help but notice the sinking feeling in your gut. She was one of your best friends, and she was gone. But she was Simon's fiancee. It must have hit him harder, whatever happened to her. You'd ask later, when the emotional turmoil between the two of you wasn't so fresh.

You walked in peaceful silence between the two of you, listening to the sounds of the stream, or chirping crickets.

You took that time to study Simon, how his appearance changed, and things that stayed the same.

Same fashion sense,

same goofy circle glasses,

even the same walk you remember.

There was a white streak in his hair now.

Wrinkles on his face.

Something about him just seemed so...

Sad.

"You've gotten old."

Simon smiled, though it seemed bitter.

"We both have."

"I missed you, Simon. Not a day went by that I didn't think of you, Betty, or any of our other friends."

Simon stopped walking, and you copied. He seemed as if he was about to cry again. To be honest, you were too. Talking about all of this while looking him in the face didn't fare well for your emotional state.

He took off his glasses, wiping at his eyes. Simon smiled bitterly through it though. He seemed to be so lonely. You wondered where he lived now.

". . ."

He wiped his eyes again, then looked straight at you with an unwavering gaze.

"You have no idea how much we missed you. Even years after you disappeared, we still looked. Even when the police failed, we still-"

He inhaled sharply, breath shaking. He turned his head away, as if ashamed of his emotions.

You placed your hand on his shoulder, trying to provide comfort. Simon suddenly wrapped his arms around you, pressing his face into your shoulder. You returned the embrace, holding onto him just as tightly.

Simon's breath shook, and you softly rubbed his back. You had no idea what he's gone through, and you were genuinely unsure whether you were helping or not.

"Simon..?"

His grip on you loosened, and he looked up at you.

You said nothing else, but you gently rested your forehead on his. He sniffed, then took a deep breath. Your hands fell to his waist, while his rested on your shoulders. Simon closed his eyes, cherishing this small bit of comfort.

After a few moments, Simon pulled away, bringing his fist up to his mouth and clearing his throat.

"W- well, today was certainly... Eventful."

You laughed softly, agreeing with his remark. The two of you walked back to the little bar, realizing you'd gotten farther from it than you thought you did.

Simon cleared his throat yet again, once you reached the outside of the bar.

"Yeah, Simon?"

He thought for a moment, then spoke.

". . .Thank you."

⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂

Thanks for reading! I absolutely loved writing this, and Simon needs a hug.

Your complimentary artwork ^^

reblog for a beginner writer?

#no beta we die like Jake #simon petrikov x reader #fionna and cake #fionna and cake x reader #pre fionna and cake events #simon petrikov #simon petrikov is a wet cat #fandom #brainrot #finn the human #adventure time #simon needs a hug #fanfiction #selfshipping community #simon petrikov x male reader

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after-nine-at-the-oasis · 10 months

Text

I FINISHED EPISODE SEVEN AND AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

😭😭😭😭💔❤️ ISAAAAAAC 😭 MY BOYYY <3333 HE DOES NOT DESERVE THIS ❤️❤️😭 I LOVE HIM!! I hope that art piece helped though :')). Also poor James 😭 xd. But hey at least he's supportive (though the way I was like :'O and then he said "you just haven't found the right person yet" and I went -.- xD. Except a little more like sigh raise eyebrow with a bit of a smile bc :/ you were so close xDD). But seriously Isaac 😭😭❤️❤️ my guy. I love him. I hope he figures it out soon :( :')) <3333.

TAO AND ELLLLLE!!!! AAAAHHHHHHH :'DDD. The GROWTH from Tao, can we talk about that?!!! He :D! I mean he was definitely thrown off at first but that's okay :')). Then he was supportive and lovely and your honor I love him 😭. And ELLE!! OUR GIRL GOT ACCEPTED :D!!! AND HAD HER ART DISPLAYED!! HECK YEAH GIRL :DDD!! AND ALSO THE ART WAS T H E M I'M NOT OKAY 😭😭❤️❤️🥰.

Also, everyone else at that exhibition: :D- YOO those are the people!!

(like the ones in the picture lol)

Anyway I love them your honor thank you <3 xD

SLAYYY NICK GO OFF!! TO YOUR DAD AND YOUR BROTHER AND EVERYBODY :DDD!!!

AND SLAYYY CHARLIE GO OFF!! TO BEN YOU SLAYED :DDD!!!

Also gosh that DINNER. Was (yes that period's on purpose I'm making it clear it's not "that dinner was", but just "it was" without the it) the most awkward thing I've ever seen xD. I mean not really but it was pretty bad xD.

Just imagining though lol like,

Nick: I don't care what you think

Charlie's parents: *trying to look as far away as they can*

Nick's mom: You don't have a right!

Charlie's parents: wow yeah this for is really good huh, yeah. . .

XDD I just can't lol

Anyway xD!

But AYYYY NICK DID IT HE CAME OUT AND EVERYTHING WENT OKAY I MEAN LIKE. IN THE END xD :D!!! 🥰🥰

Also Tori GO. OFF!! The grab of David's arm and the kick of his phone xD, girl SLAY!!! We love her so much in this house 🥰🥰🥰. Also her and Charlie playing video games was really sweet :'DD

Anyway I am sorry your dad and brother suck Nick <333

I do hate your brother though so there's that 🥰🥰 punched the bed repeatedly during the dinner scene and of course whisper screamed my head off <33

And AAAAHHHHHHH Charlie not eating much :')) I noticed I during the meal and then the brought it UP too 😭😭💔. Help I'm not okay <333. We can get through this :')). Me and them xdd. Them all, surrounding this, lol.

Also Nick looking up eating disorders 😭😭😭💔❤️❤️ it broke me but it was really sweet <33 he's worried about Charlie :'(( (kinda the reason for the sweet and kinda a separate statement, it's also sweet for like trying to understand reasons and whatnot)

And AAAHHHHHH NICK AND CHARLIE ARE GOING TO PROM TOGETHER :DDD listen I love them so much <333 and all of the so much :D!!

Also Imogen so sorry you're still the token straight xD but slay for you Sahar :D

AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH DARCYYYY 😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔.

HONEYYYY!!! I'M SO SORRY AND ALSO I LOVE YOU SO MUCH 😭😭😭💔❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Y'all as soon as I saw the purple stuff around the door I died :') help I'm not okay <333 but more importantly help Darcy :((( worry about her before me D':

Gotta say though her outfit slays so hard and AAHHHH everybody helping to pay for it :'DDD <333 I love them all so much. Also her and Tara were being ADORABLE!! And Tara's mom was hilarious in that first scene lol xD mood.

Anyway AAAHHHHHHHH MY POOR GIRL 😭😭😭😭😭❤️❤️💔❤️. I really hope she's okay (I mean as okay as she can be) :((( ik there's other stuff but whatever honey my love go to Tara's <333

My poor babey 😭💔❤️

Anyway, amaaazing episode, I love them all so much <3333 🥰🥰❤️ I'm also not ready for the next episode :')) 😭

And awww, the last episode 😭😭❤️💔. This was the second to last episode :'(( :')). Should I have split it into two days to savor it more? Maybe. Did I? Absolutely not lol. Anyway, this season is so good and I'm gonna miss I so much xdd <3. Immediately lol. Especially if there's a cliffhanger or something (which I feel like I might've seen someone mention but it was just a glimpse so they may have been talking about another episode lol).

ANYWAY!!! Lovely 🥰🥰🥰. NOW ONTO EPISODE EIGHT!!!

#heartstopper #oasis's heartstopper chatter #heartstopper spoilers #see y'all there :D #or well after it lol but shhh #anyway :D I love them all so much 🥰🥰 also the entire shopping scene of them was so cute :D #but yeah see y'all later 🥰🥰 in a bit :D :P!!!!

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sebuckyverse · 1 year

Text

roommates [chapter 1]

modern!eddie munson x fem!reader

series summary: Eddie Munson broke your heart once. Now, you have no choice but to move in with him. warnings: 18+ cussing, angst, sort of enemies to lovers lol; lmk if i missed anything word count: 1,8k a/n: hello i'm back!! happy valentines day to all my besties and my wife of course! i'm celebrating my birthday today so as a gift to you, i give you a new series! i'm nervous about this bc i'm convinced this is trash lmao LET ME KNOW WHAT Y'ALL THINK babes ps! i originally didn't intend to give this an era, but due to some things that happen in future chapters this turned out modern again lol sorryy

masterlist ↡ askbox ↡ next chapter ↠

chapter one ♫♪♩·.¸¸

''Absolutely not!''

''Come on, he's not that bad.''

''No, Steve. I'd rather sleep on the streets.''

''You'd rather be homeless then live with him?''

''Yes.''

Steve sighed, hands on his hips, striking his signature mom pose. ''What the hell happened between you two, anyway?''

''What, he hasn't told you?''

''He's told me his version of events. You on the other hand, never seem to want to talk about it.''

Sighing, you stared into the glass sat in front of you, filled with clear liquid with a greenish hue underneath, twirling the small paper umbrella Steve added as a joke.

''It doesn't matter. What Eddie Munson and I once had, or didn't have, theoretically, is in the past.''

''Then take the room. You're both working, you'll hardly ever see each other.''

Dragging your words, you nervously played with the ends of your hair. ''I don't know...''

''Look, I gotta open the doors. You can stay in the back office tonight if you want, there's an uncomfortable leather couch with your name on it. I'd let you crash at ours, but Nance has been... emotional.''

''She okay?'' you winced, hopping of the barstool you had been sitting on the last hour.

''She thinks she can feel the baby kicking but then she realizes that it's far too early for that and starts crying.''

''Oh,'' you cooed. ''She's just excited.''

''Yeah, I know. I'm excited, too.''

You closed the door to the office space that would be your bedroom for the night. It was small, but held a small desk with various papers scattered on it, a bookshelf half empty and as promised, a worn out brown leather couch. Dropping your purse on the desk, you retrieved your phone and sat down on the couch. You rested your head on the back of the couch, eyes closed, nearly falling asleep if it weren't for the sudden rock music booming outside. You'd almost forgotten you were at Steve's place of work, a bar downtown called the Black Room.

Staring at the bleak ceiling, you bit the inside of your cheek when you felt your eyes getting watery. For the past year, after graduating high school, you had been working your ass off at a local diner across town. You were saving money for college, and other things, since you didn't receive the scholarship you hoped would change your life. Every time you got a paycheck, you withdrew some of it and kept it aside. In the year since you started working, the saved amount wasn't big, but it was still significant to you and you were proud of yourself for keeping it and not spending the money like that little devil on your shoulder keeps suggesting sometimes.

But all of that was now gone, and all it took was a simple mistake of trusting the wrong person and all of your hopes and dreams came crashing down, taking your money with it. To save some money, you moved in with an old friend from high school, Jennie. What you didn't know, was that Jennie was also a pathological liar, who was in financial debt and to ease those debts, found the money you had kept hidden under your mattress (a dumb place to hide money, you know that) and stole it to pay off some of her debts.

Throwing Jennie out was not an option unfortunately, the apartment lease was under her name, so without much thought, you turned on your heel and marched right back out. Heading down the street, you had no idea where you were going. You made it two blocks from your home and nearly collided with a lamp post, when the sound of a bus horn somewhere behind you brought you back to reality. You hopped on the bus that stopped a few feet away from you and headed straight downtown to the Black Room, where you knew Steve would be working tonight.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

You must have fallen asleep at some point, because the next thing you knew, something was kicking at your feet.

''My, my... Look what the cat dragged in.''

You'd recognize that voice anywhere; deep, sometimes raspy from all the cigarettes he likes to smoke, or at least he used to. It's the voice you used to hear late at night, reading a book out loud when you couldn't sleep due to the thunder outside, or when that same voice used to whisper sweet nothings in your ear when you weren't feeling well. It's also the voice that, one day, in less than 12 hours, turned from sweet and caring to cold and distant.

Right, you forgot he worked here too.

You were laying on your side, feet hanging off the couch. You opened your eyes and the first thing you saw were pair of black jeans, ripped from the right knee and left thigh, one of his Converse clad foot was kicking your heels. A black Henley with the front tucked into his pants, the unforgettable handcuff belt on full display with the black leather more worn out than the last time you saw it, Eddie was looking down at you like a God above, the ceiling lamp above him casting a glow around his hair, still the same as it was in high school - at least some things never change.

''Edward.'' You pushed up from the couch, wincing at the tired muscles of your back. Steve was right, that couch was shit.

The use of his full name always used to irritate him, but if it bothered him now, he didn't show it. Instead, he clicked his tongue and took a few steps to his left and sat on the desk, his hands resting beside him, gripping the edge of the table. ''Whatcha doing here, sweetheart? Haven't seen you in years.''

''First of all, don't call me that,'' you sighed. ''Second, that's none of your business.''

Eddie smirked. ''You're at my place of work, it's kind of my business.''

''What time is it?'' you felt around for your phone, but didn't find it.

''Oh, it's uh...'' Eddie pulled a phone out of his back pocket, your phone. ''02:14 am.''

''Hey! Give me that,'' you held your palm up.

Eddie looked at your hand for a moment, before handing the phone back to you, the back of his knuckles grazing your palm. You swallowed down the spark you felt speed across your arm. The sleeves of his shirt were pulled up to his elbow, exposing tattoos you had never seen before as well as his toned arms. Doing a quick once over, you noticed his physique was fuller... everywhere. Does he work out? He was pretty tall and lanky back in high school, but now he looked like he had grown into his body; the jeans were hugging his thighs and his shoulders seemed more defined.

Clearing your throat, you asked, ''Why did you even have that? Is stealing your side hustle now?''

''It was laying on the floor, pardon me. Didn't want to step on it.''

''Fine. Thanks for not stepping on it, I guess,'' you mumbled, keeping your eyes trained on the bookshelf.

''Aren't you gonna ask me what I'm doing here?''

''Don't you work here?''

''Yeah, but not tonight.''

''Okay, I honestly don't care, so...''

''Oh, don't be like that. After all, I'm here to save you.''

You turned to look at him, and that turned Eddie's small smirk into a big Cheshire cat like grin. ''Save me?''

''Steve called me and told me about your predicament.''

Groaning, you threw your head back against the couch. ''God damn Steve.''

''Look, I know we have... history and everything, but I'm only here as a friend. Consider it an olive branch for how things ended back in high school.''

You gaped at him, your eyes bulging and your mouth hanging open. ''Wow. Okay. No, thank you.''

Eddie rolled his eyes. ''You have nowhere else to go.''

''Yes, I do,'' you lied, and very obviously so. You were never any good at it.

''Then why are you sleeping on this fucked up couch?''

Gritting your teeth, you rolled your eyes and looked away from him. Damn Steve and his loud mouth, you were going to hit him on the head. Eddie sighed and got up from the desk, coming closer and crouching next to the couch.

''The offer stands 'til the end of the week. You need a room and I need a roommate now that Steve's gone. I work here every Wednesday through Saturday and after that I usually sleep for two days to get ready for my next shift. We'll hardly ever see each other.''

''Tonight's Wednesday and you're not working.''

''I needed a personal day,'' he winked.

''You know, I've heard about your gigolo way of life.''

Eddie laughed, his eyes shining in the process. ''Gigolo?''

''You're a manwhore.''

Snorting, Eddie rested his hand on his palm, covering his mouth. ''Is that what Steve told you?''

''Are you denying it?'

''No,'' he mused, his voice muffled behind his fist.

''See, that's why I can't move in. I don't want to hear that every night.''

''You used to like hearing me moan in your ear.''

Eddie must have seen the hurt flash across your eyes, since he suddenly grew quiet himself.

His voice was lower now, more serious. What he said next, made you whip your head around and look at those big, chocolate brown eyes that you used to miss so much. ''I know you hate me, I understand that. Despite what happened back then, I still care about you. As a friend, of course. Yes, I sleep around and I am a man so the place is probably messier than you'd like, but I'm offering you a free place to stay. I know you don't have any money either, I'm good to cover us both for a while. Take it or leave it.''

''Why would you do this?'' you asked, looking deep into his eyes, like you were searching for his soul through them.

Sitting so close to him, your chest constricted at all the memories and what if's that have bombarded you throughout the years. Three years after you fled high school, never looking back, he still had a hold on you and you hated him for it. Hated the way he smelled exactly the same but new at the same time, the way he looked like he used to but more mature, the way you still felt your heart nearly burst out of your throat when he looked at you with those stupid brown eyes. You despised him, because after all this time, you still felt the same. If you do this, you had to keep your heart closed, lock it away and swallow the key. Eddie Munson broke your heart once, you won't let him do it again.

''Fine. I'll take it.''

#eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #modern!eddie #modern!eddie munson #roommate!eddie #roommate!eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #sebuckyverse #roommates

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moni-logues · 4 months

Text

A Simple Favour

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

Genre: fake dating, friends-to-lovers, smut

Summary: Your temper got the better of you and you lied to your sister. Rather than coming clean, you get your best friend playing pretend, too.

Word count: 21.5k 💀

Content: fingering, protected sex, discussion about sex toys, some very uh, unshowered sex lol, reader is called Miki (Mikyong)

A/N: ahhhghheghhef my longest ever one-shot and first ever fake-dating fic is here!!!! And it's BINNIE!!!! this all started with this post and I truly never had any intention of turning any of them into proper fics. But then.... but then I honestly couldn't stop thinking about this Changbin and so I wrote a scene and then another, and then another and suddenly, it was happening! I HAVE given reader a name, because it's frankly annoying af to not be able to call your reader anything and I don't like using 'y/n' lol so hope that is ok with y'all hahah

Thank you to @minisugakoobies for beta-ing and @violetsiren90 for all the sprinting and enthusiasm!!!!!!!!!

* * *

“I need to ask you a favour.”

“Yeah, ok, sure.”

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

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

“Ok...”

“I need you to be my boyfriend.”

Changbin was out of his seat before the word had come to an end.

“What?!”

“Not really!” you cried, immediately standing up again, hands raised, trying to placate him. “I just need you to pretend to be!”

“What?!”

You groaned loudly and tipped your head back to shout at the ceiling. Then you motioned for him to please return to his seat so you could explain.

“I... may... have... toldmysisterthatwe’retogether.”

He was on his feet again, roaring.

“WHAT?!”

“It’s not my fault, ok?! You know how annoying she is!!!! She won’t stop going on about how we act like a couple and how we’d be good together and why don’t we just get together and don’t I see and no one else wants to go out with me anyway, what, do I think I could do better and I just fucking snapped!” You gripped him hard on the arms and stared, wide-eyed and grimacing at him. “I couldn’t take it anymore,” you told him through gritted teeth. “I snapped. I told her we were already dating but trying to keep it quiet until we knew if it was going anywhere.”

Changbin did exactly as you had not a minute before: looked skyward and groaned all too loudly at the ceiling of your apartment.

“So you mean to say that your sister now thinks we’re a couple?”

“Yeah... and I mean, Chan, too, obviously. He was there.”

Changbin closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“You mean my best friend Chan?”

“Hey! I’m your best friend!”

“Not anymore!”

He took a few steps away from you and shook his head, shook out his arms, rolled his shoulders. You did not know if you would be able to convince him to go along with your charade. It wouldn’t have to be forever, not even for long; you just had to find a way to back out of it that left both your names untarnished. Couldn't be that hard, right?

“Please, Binnie,” you began, tone softer now, sweeter, pleading just a little. “I know, I suck. But my sister sucks more and I really just want to get her off my back for a bit and I promise I will sort it out. I promise I’ll let us break-up quickly and you’ll come out smelling of roses! But please, please back me up on this.”

He turned around, looking at you seriously.

“What exactly is involved?”

“Well, y’know, if Chan asks about it or something, just... go along with the lie. You don’t have to do anything really.”

“Except for the lying and deceit and stuff.”

“Yeah.”

There was a pause in which Changbin stood, staring out of the window, hands on his hips, deliberating. Then he turned sharply to look at you.

“I have a date tonight. Can we start tomorrow?”

You inhaled sharply through your teeth, eyes shut tight.

“Nope!”

You winked an eye open to see how he’d react. There was outrage on his face.

“What do you mean ‘no’?!”

“You can’t go on a date with someone else if we’re together!! What if someone sees you?”

He shouted again at the ceiling.

“I was going to get laid tonight!”

“Sorry!”

You cowered, made yourself as small as possible, watching him as he nevertheless unlocked his phone and fired off a quick cancellation text.

“I’m going to make you pay for this, you know,” he told you as he typed.

“I know. I deserve it.”

“Fine,” he said with a sigh. “I’ll do it.” Then he flopped back onto the sofa and patted the seat next to him. “But to be absolutely clear, I am not going to your stupid family lunches.”

“Actually...”

You were at your stupid family lunch. You had been going to Sunday lunch with your family for what felt like forever. At first, you and your sister schlepped way too far outside the city to your parents’ house, but now your sister hosted. Your sister and her husband, who just so happened to be best friends with your best friend. Why did the world have to be so small?

This time, your boyfriend was here, too. Sorry, your ‘boyfriend.’ It had taken a thousand favours owed and promises of future gifts made, but Changbin finally agreed to come, and you had agreed the rules for this deception:

1. You and Changbin had been dating for a ‘few weeks’ (since you got drunk at the river and decided to say ‘fuck it why not?’ to the whole thing).

2. You made the first move.

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

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

5. Absolutely no dating other people, just in case.

6. It was your job to find a way to end it that made both of you look good – or at the very least, made Changbin look good.

7. No one—and that meant no one—else could know that it wasn’t real.

Just as you were walking up to your sister’s front door, Changbin added another: you would give him servings of everything first – including seconds and thirds, even if they came from your own plate. He knew your mum and sister cooked well and he was going to enjoy at least some part of this afternoon. You felt you had no choice but to agree.

“Hello,” you called as you entered your sister’s house, without enthusiasm.

You had been dreading this since the second the words had left your mouth the previous week. You could have just not lied; you didn’t have to have said that you and Changbin were dating; you could have controlled your temper even a little and not have got yourself in this predicament. You could even have swallowed your pride and embarrassment and told your sister it was a lie, that you had said it to try to shut her up. It wasn’t like it would’ve been the first time you’d told her how annoying she was.

But you hadn’t. You had lied and now you were sticking to the lie and Changbin was fully involved (if not invested) and you were about to spend an afternoon pretending to like him.

You liked him fine, as a friend. You liked him a lot, even, as a friend. But he wasn’t That Guy to you. He’d never elicited so much as a single butterfly in your stomach. Not a flitter of a wing or twitch of an antenna. He was just Binnie. And you knew he felt the very same about you.

“Finally,” your sister said by way of a greeting as she came down the stairs. “You’re late-”

“No, we aren’t,” you snapped back, fully prepared to argue further but the look on your sister’s face took you by surprise.

She was surprised.

“Oh, Changbin! I didn’t know you were coming.”

There was a sly smile on her lips as if there was a joke you weren’t in on, but you didn’t have capacity to be annoyed by that; you were waiting with bated breath to see what Changbin would do.

“Hi, Hanbyeol,” he said, as polite and charming as he might ever have been. “Miki said she told you I was coming. I hope it’s alright I’m here.”

“Of course it is! The more the merrier, right?”

She winked at you as she walked past into the kitchen, and you rolled your eyes.

“Absolutely!” Changbin responded, following her, grabbing your hand and tugging you along, too.

This was going to be a very long afternoon.

The very longest afternoon of your life. When Changbin had made you promise to ‘yes, and’ him, you had thought he meant go along with his concocted story of your first date or something.

You hadn’t expected... whatever the hell it was he was doing.

The first time he called you ‘baby,’ you literally, physically flinched and had to try very hard not to scowl. The second time, the only thing that might have given you away was the flare of your nostrils. The third time, you dragged him off away from everyone to hiss viciously at him.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“What?” he asked, with as much innocence on his face as he could muster.

“Calling me fucking ‘baby?’ Why? Why would you do that?”

“Aren’t you my baby?”

“For fuck’s sake, Binnie! NO, you know I am not! What are you doing?”

“You said I could play this however I liked and you also said I wouldn’t have to do anything but here I am, in your sister’s house, performing my perfect little tush off to keep your lie intact! So suck it up, baby: this is how Changbinnie dates!”

You rolled your eyes and swore under your breath once more.

“So you mean to say that you’re going to make this as painfully cringe-worthy as possible and embarrass us both?”

“Both? Oh, I’m not embarrassed!”

He didn’t wait for your comeback to that one and strode back into the kitchen, leaving you quietly seething but not yet regretting sticking to your lie. You could cope with an afternoon of this.

Which is what you thought until you actually sat down to eat and Changbin made you stick to your word and serve him first. It was almost impossible to do it with a smile on your face – you were sure you resembled some kind of grotesque, with a rictus grin and clenched teeth – but you did your best. You really tried to be sweet to him, to pretend to care that he got the best cuts and biggest pieces of meat, that you were happy for him to take the last dumpling from your plate.

You were sweating from the effort of it. You have never wanted to leave your sister’s house more. You felt suffocated. Hot. Uncomfortable. Embarrassed. Your parents were there; they also had to think it was real and you hadn’t considered the implications of him meeting the parents until it was too late. Suddenly, this felt serious.

You had thought it would be easy pretending that you and Changbin were together because... well, you did spend a lot of your time together as it was. You were close. You were so close that it was what got you into this mess in the first place! If you already acted enough like a couple for your sister (who barely ever saw past her own nose) to see it, then the job was already done – you had thought.

You had underestimated Changbin. Of course you had. His mischief, his love of performance, his inability to not do something that he knew would stitch you up in some manner. They all combined into what was sure to become your absolute worst nightmare and there was no one to blame but yourself.

You were just going to have to find a way out of it and quick.

* * *

“Changbin! How nice to see you again!” Hanbyeol crowed the next week when you dragged him along for a second time.

“Of course! The food last week was so good, Hanbyeol, I had to come.”

She actually blushed.

“Please, Changbin, call me Hani.”

You rolled your eyes; she was too easily flattered and Changbin was a little shit.

You hadn’t planned to make him come again. You would have preferred that he didn’t. But... Well, your sister just knew how to press your buttons. She had expressed her surprise at your apparently real relationship with Changbin, even uttering the words ‘I didn’t really believe you.’ She had then proceeded to lecture you on how to behave in a relationship and warn you of all your ‘usual tricks’ that apparently kept romantic partners away. You had been so thoroughly goaded that you had hung up on her and immediately dialled Changbin, telling him, in no uncertain terms, that he was ‘coming next week even if I have to kill you and drag you there.’

He had put up a fight, but the food really had been that good (your sister had many flaws, but cooking was not one of them) and he let his arm be twisted in far less time than before.

He behaved in much the same way as he had but, this time, you were prepared for it. You had braced yourself. You even managed a real smile at Changbin at the dinner table, despite the fact that he, once again, ate the last dumpling from your plate. He didn’t up his game or do anything more to try to embarrass you this time – perhaps he hadn’t expected your quick adjustment; he had overestimated your temper – but you were glad for this. You had to admit (for a microsecond only) that he might actually be a good boyfriend.

Neither of you had had any serious relationships in the time you’d been friends. When you met, your relationship was in the middle of a breakdown and your ex had moved out before you and Changbin had become firm friends. Changbin had dated, a lot, but none of them seemed to stick. Sometimes, he was sad about it; he would show up at your door with ice cream and his favourite blanket (yes, really) and you would coax the story out of him, trying not to press too hard on his bruised pride, his wounded heart. Sometimes, he chucked them before it got that far.

You’d actually not really spoken about relationships all that much. You assumed Changbin didn’t want anything serious because he never had it. You assumed that he assumed you wanted to be single because you (mostly) were. You shared horror stories from occasional bad dates and Changbin sometimes made you pick out his outfits, but you didn’t talk about them. You didn’t talk about your fantasies and dreams, your ideal partners, ideal relationships; you didn’t talk about how much you really did want to have one. You weren’t single because you didn’t want a relationship; you were single because you didn’t know where to find one.

You had burnt out on the apps in double-quick time and weren’t really sure where else to find anyone. You would never take up your sister’s offer to set you up, which might honestly have been cutting your nose off to spite your face because you did like Chan and she was happily married to him, but there was simply no way you would ever have been able to live with her smug self-satisfaction if she had been the one to introduce you to a life partner. And that left you with very few other options.

* * *

Having a fake boyfriend—who was your best friend at that—turned out to be quite a lot of fun. You did all the same things you usually did, plus handholding when in public and tolerating whatever cutesy baby-talk Changbin threw at you during your family lunches. That was easy.

Your friends were outraged when you told them. Not because they opposed the union but because you hadn’t told them before. They went back through your friendship with a fine-toothed comb, pointing out signs and hints that they had known ‘all along’ that you were into each other.

There were no signs. There were no hints. Because you weren’t into each other. But you let them have their fun because it helped sell the lie you were trying to peddle.

* * *

“Sister,” your sister began, on the phone to you almost two weeks after your second lunch.

“What, sister?” you replied, already unamused.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Hani. She just... rubbed you the wrong way. A lot.

“You and Changbin should come on a double date with us.”

“What?”

“A double date. Me and Channie; you and Changbin.”

“Ugh.”

You didn’t have a much more articulate response than that. Really? Why? Why did she always have to suggest these things? Why did she need to be so nosy? So many of the thoughts that stuck in your brain when it came to your sister began with the word: why.

“Why?” you asked, already trying to think of excuses not to go.

“What do you mean why? It’d be perfect! Channie and Changbin are friends; you and I are sisters; we all already know each other! You’re always such a spoilsport!”

“But Binn- Changbin and I have already been for lunch twice; that’s basically the same.”

You had stopped referring to him as Binnie since you had starting ‘dating’ him. You had deliberately not thought about why that was.

“It’s not the same at all! Lunch is casual and boring! Our parents are there! We should go on a real date, have some fun!”

“Maybe your relationship needs a fun injection but mine doesn’t.”

You could see her rolling her eyes, hear the stomp of her foot on the floor.

“Kim Mikyong,” your sister said and needed to say no more. When she full-named you, you knew it meant she wasn’t taking no for an answer, and you had given up fighting her on it because she showed surprising restraint in using it.

You sighed.

“When do you want to go?”

“Ah! Perfect! I’ll ask Channie and get him and Changbin to set it up! It’s going to be so much fun!”

She hung up without bothering to say goodbye and you looked at the phone in displeasure. You didn’t even know if Changbin would agree to it. It had taken so much coaxing to get him to lunch.

And this was going to be so much worse.

But you’d been wrong before.

Changbin lived two floors above you and, shortly before half-six, he was knocking at your door to pick you up for your date—your double date.

You opened the door and surprise swallowed your greeting. He looked good. He looked like he’d put effort in. You remembered the outfit from one of the times he’d asked your advice; he’d worn this outfit on a date before. Your first instinct was to be peeved that he was recycling an outfit for your date. Then you remembered that you were only pretending to be together. And then you thought, actually, that maybe it was sweet he had put together a Date Outfit for the occasion.

You’d put on a dress and everything, too.

“You look nice,” he said, still standing in your doorway.

“Thank you,” you replied sincerely. “So do you.”

It was quiet in the lift as you descended, and you jumped a little when Changbin took your hand as you left the building. He looked at you, quizzical.

“Sorry, just forgot what we were doing for a second.”

“Hey, I’m happy not to hold your hand, but this was your rule.”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine; it’s good. I mean, we should. It’s safer. We should. I just- I just forgot; surprised me.”

You squeezed his hand in yours, because it was there to squeeze, and you realised you felt nervous. Your sister had been right: this was different. Lunch was casual. This wasn’t. You tried to remember how your sister had previously acted on double dates, but she hadn’t been able to get you on one since you were with your ex and that was a long time ago now.

You wondered how Changbin would act. He had been so keen to play the game and embarrass you up until now; would tonight be the same? He seemed normal so far, but he didn’t have his audience yet. And everyone was still sober.

Your sister cooed and stretched across the table to you and Changbin, grabbing your hand and his forearm and giving a squeeze.

“Oh, I’m just so happy!” she exclaimed, and you could tell by the way she scrunched her nose as she smiled that she was in one drink too deep. “I want you two to be so happy! Aren’t they happy, Channie?”

He grinned at his wife and nodded before turning towards you.

“Are you happy?”

You shrugged which was very clearly the wrong answer.

“Mikyong!” Hani hit the table with her palm.

You shrugged again.

“What?! What do you want us to say? I’m not going to fucking rhapsodise about it at the dinner table!”

That was a mistake. You’d have seen it coming one bottle of soju ago and you wouldn’t have set foot in that trap.

“Then I will!” Changbin said, tossing back his maekju, punctuating the end of his sentence with the thunk of the glass on the table.

You groaned, inwardly and then out loud. Changbin turned to look at you, a sweet, shit-eating grin on his face.

“I feel honestly amazed,” he began, his eyes widening in what you knew he hoped your sister would take for some kind of wonder or awe. “It seems so weird that we didn’t see it before.” He took your hand, and you clenched your teeth so hard your jaw hurt. “It feels so natural to be together, y’know? I’m more than happy! I’m comfortable and content; being with your best friend is the greatest thing in the world.”

Hani cooed for so long, you worried she’d run out of breath. She held a hand to her heart, and you almost thought you saw tears in her eyes. She could give Changbin a run for her money in the dramatics department. You didn’t see Chan’s reaction because he hid his face taking a drink. Changbin had promised, as part of the rules, not to tell anyone else and you trusted him, but Chan would be the person he’d tell. Which worried you. Because you could fool your sister; your sister was a fool. Chan wasn’t.

You kicked Changbin as you got up from the table and made sure you walked behind your sister and brother-in-law so you could punch him in the arm for good measure.

“What the fuck was that?” you hissed, face hot with alcohol and anger.

“What was what?”

“That disgusting little speech you gave! ‘Oh, it feels so natural! I’m so content!’. Are you fucking kidding me?”

Changbin chuckled and nuzzled his nose into yours.

“Oh, baby, don’t you feel the same? You’re going to break my heart!”

“Shut the fuck up! How am I supposed to break us up when you say shit like that?”

He shrugged.

“I believe that is your problem. Besides which, you promised I’d come out smelling of roses so I can say as much saccharine, embarrassing crap as I like and you can just ditch me like the cruel and heartless being you are. Problem solved.”

“And you want everyone to pity you for having your soft heart broken by me? Because that’s what’ll happen! They’ll ooh and ah and ‘poor Binnie’ you for weeks. And how are we supposed to continue being friends if you’re that heartbroken?”

You could tell by his silence that he was annoyed to not have a quick retort.

“See? You’re trying to embarrass me and make me squirm and yeah, it fucking works, but you’re also prolonging this! You’re making it harder than it has to be!”

“Oh, whatever!”

The four of you stood on the subway, going in the same direction for at least part of the way home. Hani and Chan only had eyes for each otherour sister claimed they were ‘still newlyweds!’ but you didn’t think that, after over a year of marriage, she had any right to do so. You were glad that they were busy being moony-eyed at each other; it meant you and Changbin could relax a little, finally out from underneath the scrutiny of the pair. You weren’t holding hands, but you leant a little against his solid body, letting him support you as the train twisted and jostled you.

You wouldn’t have cared—wouldn't even have been looking--a few drinks ago but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the two of them. Envy grew like mould in your heart. You were happy for your sister, of course you were, but you wanted that. You wanted it for yourself. You wanted someone to look at you the way Chan was looking at Hani right now. You wanted marriage. You wanted that happily ever after shit that you knew didn’t really exist, at least not like in all the stories. But you wanted someone to believe it. Wanted someone to promise it to you even if it was beyond their power to enforce.

It made you bristle, made you annoyed. At anyone. Everyone. Hani. Chan. Changbin. Yourself. You’d made this bed. It wasn’t as if you had been dating anyway, but now you had removed that as an option; you couldn’t even try to find what your sister had and it was all your own fucking fault. You watched as Hani took hold of the lapel of Chan’s jacket and lifted onto her tiptoes to press a giggly kiss to his mouth; you didn’t manage to hold back the scoff, didn’t manage not to roll your eyes.

Your sister rolled hers in return and tutted.

“What, Miki? I can’t kiss my husband?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Your face says it all. Kiss your own boyfriend, why don’t you? And stop looking at mine.”

“He’s not your boyfriend.”

“No, he’s my husband and you’ll never get one if you keep going around on dates with a face like that.”

“Hey,” Changbin says, smiling beneficently, “I like her sour, ugly face.”

You punched him hard on his left pec and he ‘oof’ed quietly but it didn’t stop him smiling.

“Yeah?” Hanbyeol challenged. “That’s a face you want to kiss, huh? Really? Don’t believe you.”

Changbin reflected her challenge in his eyes as he looked down at you.

“Maybe I don’t want to kiss him,” you spat, glaring at your sister, ignoring Changbin’s offer.

“Oh, Mikyong, you are a bitter old maid, you bitch. Let your boyfriend kiss you if he wants!”

Did he want?

Your heart was beating faster than you’d have liked. Your mouth went dry when you finally turned to Changbin to acquiesce. This hadn’t been part of the deal. Did he really want to do this? You didn’t. This was weird. It would be weird! How could you pull this off? It was your first kiss! Changbin was about to kiss you for the first time! His face was leaning down! He was really going to do it! How could you let him get this close? How can you pull away without ruining everything? What should you-!

His lips were soft and the kiss was gentle. Lasted no more than a second. It took longer for you to come around from it, your mouth pouting and open, looking at Changbin as if you were lost and he would show you where to go. He lifted one side of his mouth in a lopsided grin and winked.

That broke the spell.

“Happy now?" you asked your sister, your ‘ugly, bitter old maid’ face back on-screen.

She rolled her eyes, good-naturedly.

“Whatever, Miki. You are so easy to tease.”

She said it all looking dreamily at her husband and it made your stomach drop. She only had eyes for him. He only had eyes for her. You were desperately trying not to look at your ‘boyfriend.’ You didn’t know where he was looking.

You got off the train a few stops later, leaving Chan and Hani on it. You were itching to be by yourself. You had to process what had happened. Changbin had kissed you. Kissed you. Sure, he was goaded into it; he did it because your sister told him to. But he still did it. You didn’t know how you felt about it. After just ten minutes, you were starting to believe it hadn’t even happened, that you had somehow imagined it. Because you and Changbin didn’t kiss. Even though you were pretending to be together. You didn’t kiss. That didn’t happen.

Changbin walked you to your door when you reached your floor and you turned in the doorway, looking at him as sour as you’d ever been.

“Going to try to kiss me goodnight?” you asked, jeering and hating yourself for it.

Changbin looked at you, a little hurt, a little annoyed, a little fucking tired of your prickly temper.

“No,” was his simple reply.

You didn't say anything back, but he didn’t leave, so you each stood in silence, one either side of your doorway. You knew he wanted to say something as mean-spirited as you had; you knew he was better than that so he wouldn’t.

He turned his body slightly away, as if to leave, and then looked at you, mostly just sad, you thought.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. We haven’t talked about that; we haven’t agreed anything on that. I just thought you’d want to show your sister. Prove it or something. So I’m really sorry. I’ll see you later.”

He was walking away and you could taste something bitter in your mouth: your own temper, your impatience with people, your totally unfair expectations of people that were better than you but liked you anyway.

Steeling yourself and clenching your fists, you followed after him.

“Changbin,” you called softly, prompting him to turn around.

You took his hand in both of yours.

“I’m sorry, too. Sorry I’m such a bitch. The kiss was fine. Thank you. It was good. Probably necessary; I don’t know. Thanks. I guess. Sorry.”

Changbin just laughed and pulled you into a rib-squeezing hug.

“You are so fucking stupid.”

He was very, very right.

* * *

Changbin knocked at your door and entered your apartment with far less cheer than he might normally. You hadn’t spoken about the kiss since it happened and there had been no repeats of it. Things had fallen back into your new normal ‘friends who are pretending to be more than friends’ sham.

“What’s wrong with you?”

He sat on your sofa and looked up at you, still serious.

“Remember how you asked me for a favour?”

You asked him for lots of favours but you immediately knew which he was referring to.

“Yes.”

“Remember how you said it’d be over quickly?”

“... Yes.”

You did not like the direction this was heading in, but he was owed, you knew that, so you determined to meet your fate with grace.

“Remember how the very night you asked I had a date?”

“Yes.”

“Remember how long ago that was?”

“... A month?”

He hummed and nodded.

“I was going to have sex that night, but I didn’t get to. Why?”

“Because I made you cancel so you could fake-date me.”

“Exactly. Know what that means?”

You couldn’t see where he was heading because- well, you could see, but you didn’t really know what the favour was going to be. You weren’t sure you wanted to find out.

“Uh, I don’t know.”

“It means it’s been well over a month since I last had sex. Because of you.”

“I’m sorry?”

He chuckled and his face brightened.

“I don’t want you to be sorry, babe-”

You had long stopped flinching at the terms of endearment as they leaked into your non-fake-dating time, too. If Changbin had noticed, he didn’t let on, but you were aware every time he called you anything other than your name.

“-I’m just saying. Aren’t you bothered? It’s not like you’ve been getting any either.”

You shrugged.

“No. I guess I’m not that bothered? I don’t know; I’ve been longer without. A month isn’t exactly that long. And it’s not like there aren’t ways to entertain myself.”

“Don’t you get bored of that though?”

You laughed.

“Did you really come here for masturbation tips?”

The tightened curl of his lips and aversion of his eyes told you he was embarrassed and he was never embarrassed.

“No,” he answered pointedly. “I actually came to suggest that we have sex.”

“What?!”

The shock brought you out of your chair. He could not be serious.

“What?” he returned. “We’re already fake-dating! Why not make a bit of it real? It doesn’t have to mean anything. Except both of us getting some... release. Relief. Call it stress relief! From the stresses of pretending to be dating. It’ll make the pretence easier, too, since it doesn’t seem like you are going to actually break us up anytime so-”

“I am! I am! I’m working on it...”

You couldn’t help the whine that crept into your tone. You were working on it. Or at least, you had been. It was too difficult. How could you find a way for your relationship to end and for you to remain friends at the end of it? And with each day that passed, it got harder, because your ‘relationship’ had gone on longer. And everyone was expecting it was getting more and more serious – especially as it was built on the foundation of your very solid, very real friendship.

“Ok and while you work on it, we could be having sex.”

“Changbin...”

He regarded you carefully and you looked back, hoping you looked as pathetic as you felt.

“You don’t have to say yes. I won’t take it personally. I just... I honestly just really want to get laid and you are the only person I’m allowed to have sex with at the moment. So you’ve really stitched me up here.”

You sank down next to him on the sofa and laid your head on his shoulder.

“I am sorry. I really didn’t mean for it to go on this long. I didn’t mean to stitch you up. It’s kind of got out of hand--. I actually didn’t mean to create this mess at all. My sister sometimes just brings out the worst in me.”

“Yeah,” Changbin replied, patting your knee. “Family can do that.”

There was a brief lull and then Changbin slapped his own thighs and stood.

“Well, if you don’t want to have sex, I’m out of here.”

“I didn’t say that!”

He raised an eyebrow at you, and you were furious that your cheeks had the audacity to warm. You were a grown woman; he was a grown man. You should at least be able to talk about sex. You did talk about it! You had discussed it!

But it was different when it was this – the two of you having it. Together. There was a line there. And he may have made some good points (you weren’t getting any; as long as you were pretending to date each other, you couldn’t sleep with anyone else; it would make the pretence easier), but suggesting it didn’t have to mean anything? Surely it meant something. It had to mean something! Friends didn’t just fuck their friends. That never worked. It always made things weird.

Weirder than they already were? Wasn’t it already weird that you pretended to be together whenever you saw any of your friends, any of your family? Wasn’t it already weird that Changbin was so used to calling you ‘babe’ and ‘baby’ and god knew what else that he said even when you were alone? Wasn’t it already weird that you didn’t hesitate anymore, that the words ‘I have a boyfriend’ fell from your lips without your even having to try? Wasn’t it already weird that you were... getting used to this? Enjoying it even?

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to. I also didn’t say I did. I don’t know. Don’t you feel like it would be weird?”

He shrugged.

“Maybe. Kind of too horny to care.”

“Seo Changbin!”

“What?! I'm being honest!”

“I’ll think about it, ok?”

“Sure. No pressure. I mean it.”

“I know.”

You did know. You would trust him with your life, and he was the softest little goober you’d ever met. That he might pressure you was not your concern at all.

You were true to your word: you thought about it. On and off over the next couple of days you thought about it. How much further over the line was it, really? You held hands. You had already kissed, a little. Ok, once. Was sex really such a leap? It would lend a lot of credence to this stupid lie you were both living. And you would get to have sex.

But it would be with Changbin. What if he was bad at it? What if you discovered you were bad? What if his dick was weird? What if he liked stuff you hated? Or vice versa? You didn’t know if you believed that sex could be Just Sex, but, even if it could, that didn’t mean it wasn’t complicated. There were factors. A lot of them.

A week and a half later, you thought you were experiencing déjà vu when Changbin entered your apartment again, asking for a favour.

“Sex again?” you asked as you shut the door behind him.

“Not exactly. It’s more embarrassing.”

You did not attempt to hide your glee.

“I love it; please ask immediately.”

“Last time I asked about sex, you implied that you didn’t get bored getting yourself off. I’m asking, how? ‘Cause I’m looking at my hand like it’s my fucking enemy at this point.”

You laughed.

“Do not laugh!” he shouted. “I’m in actual need. I’m in agony. Please. Tell me how to make it more interesting for myself.”

“I mean... Firstly, we have different parts, so my experience is not directly applicable to you. Secondly, how can you be that bored? Have you seriously never gone this long without sex in your adult life?”

He shrugged but you recognised the look on his face: the one where he tried to hide a smug, gloating, little grin.

“Are you seriously telling me you haven’t gone more than two months without sex?”

“I haven’t had to!”

“Oh my god.”

You were in half a mind not to help, feeling like it might somehow expose you as undesirable, because you had been more than two months without; two months was currently very much in your rear-view mirror at that point.

“Well,” you began, leading him into your bedroom, “for a start, if you’re only using your hand, then you are in for a treat. An entire world awaits you.”

You knelt down next to your bedside cabinet and gathered all your toys, laying them out on the bed with a flourish. Changbin looked a little overawed.

“That’s a lot of stuff.”

“Yeah and you know you have to use them all at once?”

For a second, he believed you and his eyes grew as wide as you had ever seen them before he scowled at you.

“Shut the fuck up. I came to you for help. You owe me.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m just teasing. Now, like I said, a lot of these won’t be applicable to you, or might be but I cannot vouch for any kind of pleasure or satisfaction because most were designed for vulvas and vaginas and not penises.”

“I love it when you talk dirty to me.”

“Oh, now who’s teasing?! You want help or not?!”

“I do! Sorry! Fine, carry on.”

“Ok, well, this,” you held up a rather unwieldy, slightly inelegant thrusting toy, “is my favourite. It does not look sexy but it sure as shit feels it. The problem with the others-” you gave a sweep of your hand over a few other insertables on the bed- “is that I have short arms and sometimes I just can’t get the angle I need and keep a firm grip on them, right? Which is why this one is so good.”

You stopped yourself just as you were about to- to what? Demonstrate? You put it back down on the bed in a hurry.

“Ok, well, I don’t need anything like that.”

“No?”

“I top.”

“Right. Ok.”

You lifted another, much smaller toy.

“That looks like something you’d use to clean your face.”

“I cannot recommend it for that. If you want to get someone to squirt though, she’s your man.”

Changbin looked surprised.

“Ever made anyone squirt?” you asked, not sure if he would answer.

He shook his head.

“No, me neither... Except myself. With this. I’m not saying it’s guaranteed but she knows how to get the job done, y’know?”

“Huh.”

He took it from you, examining it as if he could learn its secrets from looks alone.

“It’s a suction toy,” you clarified. “Works on the clit. Sucks. Hard. Not entirely sure what you might get out of it, but y’know, if you want to give it a try...”

You laughed, feeling a little heat on your cheeks. It was both exceptionally weird and very not weird to be talking to Changbin like this.

“Isn’t that weird?” he asked, looking at the toy in his hand like it was a live grenade. “To use your sex toys?”

You shrugged.

“They’re clean if that’s what you mean.”

“Wasn’t suggesting they aren’t. It’s just... Isn’t that kind of intimate?”

You hadn’t thought about it before, but he had a point. And the more you thought about it, the more intimate it seemed. These toys, all of them, had been used on you, had brought you to climax over and over again in the time you’d owned them. They knew your secrets; you were exposing your secrets to Changbin by even showing them to him. If he used them, too? A shiver like ice water slipped down your spine.

But he was the one who had previously suggested you have sex. This was less intimate than that, right?

You shrugged.

“It’s just a thing, really,” you replied, even though it wasn’t at all what you thought. You moved the conversation on quickly. “I guess you’re not interested in butt plugs if you don-”

“I didn’t say that.”

You looked at his face but he was looking at the spread on your bed, his eyes roving across the row of plugs on the right.

“Ever used one?” you ventured, a little tentatively, not sure if it would constitute a slight to suggest he had or hadn’t.

He shook his head and you noticed the tips of his ears redden.

“I probably don’t need to tell you to go careful,” you began, taking a few of the options away, the ones that were too big, a little too intimidating for a first-timer. “But you should go careful. Start small, start smooth. And never, ever insert anything without a ba-”

“Yeah, I know!”

His ears were redder now. He still had your suction toy in his hand and you could see how tightly his fist was clenched around it. It confused you because Changbin couldn’t possibly be that embarrassed. Could he?

Silence fell and you weren’t sure what to say. Should you tell him which one to pick? Did you have to advise him how to use it? How could you do that when you had no idea the sort of things he liked? You wiggled your toes in your socks and tipped up lightly onto them before bringing your heels back down.

“Ok,” you began slowly when it was clear he wasn’t going to speak. You picked up a little purple plug, soft silicone, bubbles of increasing size. You handed it to him and shrugged. “Give something like that a try. See how you like it.”

Changbin didn’t look at you. He looked at the plug. He put the suction toy back down on the bed and continued to look at the small, beaded rod in his hand.

“Uh,” you continued. “Ever used a cock ring?”

He let out a comically enraged cry and stalked from your bedroom.

“Bye!” he called, not looking back as he pulled open your front door and let it slam shut behind him.

“Hey!” you shouted after him, catching his arm just as he walked out your front door.

He stopped and turned.

“You know the internet exists, right? Wouldn’t that have been less embarrassing than coming here and asking me?”

He scowled, let out another anguished shout and stalked off.

You laughed because you had to laugh, because he could have just used the internet—it would have been quicker, easier, less embarrassing, and probably more helpful. But he didn’t. He came to you and asked for your secrets. You didn’t know what that meant.

There were nerves fluttering in your stomach that made you feel awkward and self-conscious. It felt like a line had been crossed somewhere. Not a bad line? But a line nonetheless.

You returned to your bedroom and surveyed your collection left on your bed and wondered if you might take a few for a spin yourself. You decided not to. Changbin was in your head and if there was one person in the world you did not want to be thinking about, it was him.

* * *

You tried not to think about it anymore. Sex. Changbin. Any thoughts that involved either sex or Changbin. Nothing that strayed into that territory. It was a hornet’s nest, you’d decided. Nothing good could come from opening that can of worms. He could use each and every single one of your toys if he wanted but not your body. No. No. Nope.

But you were having trouble focusing your mind. You were ovulating and this month in particular was being a real fucker. Your body was punishing you for being single. It was sick and tired of preparing a baby house and having you not put a baby in it. It was doing its damnedest this month to make it happen.

You were out of your mind horny.

You were beginning to sympathise with Changbin. You were, unfortunately and no matter how much you tried not to, thinking about his offer. His request. You were thinking about doing him, and yourself, that favour he’d asked.

It couldn’t be that bad, could it? It could be good. He’d made some fair points. And you were curious now, you had to admit. You’d not, before this whole fake-dating thing, given much thought to how Changbin fucked, but your curiosity had been piqued. You hadn’t had your butt plug returned and you could only assume that meant he was enjoying it, though he hadn’t confirmed either way. You wondered if you could entice him to spice things up a little more. You wondered what he did. What he sounded like. What he-

“Fuck!”

You slammed your hands down on your desk and took a deep breath. You were not supposed to be thinking about this. You were supposed to be—you moved your mouse to wake your monitor—creating yet another tedious spreadsheet.

You: you working rn?

Bin: no. gym

You: later?

Bin: come over after work

‘Oh good’, you thought to yourself sourly, ‘that gives me four more hours of this. I’ve got to stew on this for four fucking hours before I can even broach the topic.’

The thought made you sick. You didn’t examine why. You worked for five more minutes, messaged your manager to say you weren’t feeling well and logged off.

Then you left your apartment and went down to the gym.

* * *

You were having a great day. A fantastic day, in fact. That was what you were telling yourself. Because you were about to hit a new deadlift PR and that made it fantastic, as long as you ignored everything else going on in your life. Which is exactly what you were doing.

You were looking down at the bar on the floor, heavily loaded, and you were talking to it nicely. You were a team: you, the bar, the weights on either end of it. You were a team, and you were going to do this thing together.

You took a deep breath, taking no notice of the guy a few metres away who was watching you. You didn’t care about him. You never cared about men in the gym because the gym was yours. And no two-bit, ’roided-out gym bro was ever going to put you off your stride. And certainly not today. Let him watch. You’d show him.

You adjusted your feet and shook out your hands before placing them on the bar. You favoured a mixed grip. You got into position, took a breath in, braced your core, and lifted.

It flew.

This was not a weightlifting gym, or anything close to that; it was the gym in your apartment building that came ‘free’ with your exorbitant rent, so you had to carefully lower the weights back to the floor. Then you allowed yourself a loud, crowing whoop and a double fist-pump.

You stood straight, victorious, not even trying to hide the grin on your face and, when you tuned back into the world, the man who had been watching you was clapping. You whipped around to face him, assuming the worst, assuming he was patronising you or mocking you, but he grinned brightly at you.

“PR?” he asked.

You nodded dumbly.

“Nice one. Congrats. You made it look easy.”

He smiled and nodded once at you and then turned back to his own workout: a push day, it looked like, as he sat down on an inclined bench and lifted two enormous dumbbells to his shoulders.

Huh.

That was nice. You didn’t have many nice interactions with men at the gym. Men like him anyway. He was big, hulking, probably bulking given the softness of his skin on his arms, the fit of his tight T-shirt. You’d noticed him before, once or twice; he must live in the building to be using the gym but there were hundreds of people living here so that didn’t help much. He lifted heavy and kept to himself. That was really all you knew.

It distracted you somewhat from your victory, this guy. This nice guy who might actually have been normal. You turned back to the bar and tried to get back in the zone, remember just what you were doing. But that had been it. You were going to PR the fuck out of this lift and then stretch yourself into oblivion.

It was only when you were moving to the free area, walking past him, that you realised you hadn’t responded when he congratulated you.

“Thanks, by the way,” you said as you passed, timing it carefully so you wouldn’t take him by surprise with 20 kilos above his head.

He smiled again.

“You’re welcome. You’re not trying for more?”

He nodded to rack, where you’d put everything away. You shook your head.

“Quitting while I’m ahead.”

“Well, you really did make it look easy. I reckon you’ve got more in you.”

He meant with regards to deadlifting. He meant he thought you could probably take another five kilos, or maybe even ten, but it was exactly the sort of thing you needed to hear at that moment and a lump formed in your throat. It took you off-guard and you felt your cheeks heat. You just nodded and moved quickly to the floor where you put yourself in child’s pose to hide your face.

You focused on counting your breaths and moving slowly between stretches. You didn’t look his way again when you left. You returned home, sat heavily on your sofa and cried.

That had been your first interaction with Changbin. And for a while it was your only interaction. Your workouts didn’t overlap and you didn’t see him in the corridors.

Then you walked into the gym on a grey, cold November morning, barely awake and not looking forward to exercise. There were a few others there already: a much older man walking slowly on the treadmill, a very bendy woman working through some yoga on the mats, and that guy. The one from your deadlift PR.

You were pleased to see him, though you couldn’t have said why. He had, technically, made you cry. Even though it wasn’t anything at all to do with him and everything to do with your relationship falling apart around you and your self-worth being at rock bottom and your absolute desperate need for a win, even a tiny win, anything.

Still, it was nice to see him again.

You took to a treadmill to try to shake off your sleep and then moved slowly through an upper body workout. Everyone always said they hated leg day but you? You hated arms; you hated chest; you hated back and shoulders; you hated pushing and pulling. What you wouldn’t have given for squats that frosty morning.

You had just placed your dumbbell onto the floor with an unforgiving thud, setting your timer for a 30-second rest when he approached you.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” he began, and he did sound it, “do you have just a minute to spot me?”

You couldn’t answer immediately. You? He wanted you to spot him? He could probably bench you; how on earth would you be any good to him?

“Me?” you asked. “Are you... sure?”

He just looked towards the old man on the treadmill (yoga woman was already finished and out of the gym) and shrugged. You giggled and stood.

“I’ll do my best.”

“Thank you!”

You followed him to the squat rack and tried to do your quickest maths to calculate the weight he was attempting. You grimaced internally; that would break your fucking back. But you didn’t want to make him feel nervous or to knock any of his confidence, so you pretended you were confident, too, offering up your arms as he lodged himself beneath the bar. You kept your hands hovering as he stepped back, as he lowered, as he pushed up.... It was shaky and slow and you were genuinely worried for a second that you would have to really do something, but he made it. He took two steps forward, dumped the bar on the rack and let out a cry that was far too loud for the hour.

You laughed.

“PR?”

He grinned.

“You know it.”

“I wish I could say you made it look easy but...”

He laughed, properly laughed, and shook his head.

“Why are you trying to ruin this moment for me?”

You laughed in return and introduced yourself.

“I’m Miki.”

“Changbin,” he offered in return, holding his hand out for you to shake.

And that had been that. Somehow, though you didn’t quite know how, your workouts began to coincide more and more; you began to chat between sets; he continued to ask you to spot him despite knowing that you could do no such thing. Then one day you asked him to hang out outside the gym.

Now you couldn’t shake him. Even if you’d wanted to. Which you didn’t. Never had.

* * *

You could literally feel yourself salivate as you watched him lift and you could not believe yourself to be such a basic, animal being. Humans were supposed to be above all that ‘in heat’ stuff, but apparently you weren’t. You were watching him—leg day, beautiful leg day—deadlift, watching him hinge, watching the tension on his face, the pump in his quads.... You had officially crossed the line into creepy, but you couldn’t help it.

You were hot. Literally, physically too warm.

“Binnie!” you shouted, striding across the room to him. It had slipped out, the first time in two months you’d referred to him as something other than ‘Changbin’. You didn’t even notice.

He looked at you, confused.

“What are you doing here?”

“Couldn’t wait until tonight. I need to talk to you.”

“Is everything ok?”

You shrugged, as if this was casual. As if you were about to say something normal to him.

“Everything’s fine, but...” You scanned the room to make sure it was empty. “Look, I’m here to take you up on your offer.”

The confusion did not leave his face.

“Offer?”

You shrugged again.

“Favour, request, whatever. I want to have sex.”

His mouth dropped open and he blinked twice before his brows furrowed again.

“What?”

“You heard! I want to have sex!” You whispered it, hissed it even, despite the empty room. It was embarrassing to be asking.

“Ok,” Changbin shrugged.

You had been expecting a fight, you now realised. You had thought he would protest a little – not necessarily against the sex itself but the fact that he had already asked and you’d turned him down. You thought his ego might make him string it out a little, make you work for it.

“Ok, so are you finished here?”

There was the surprise you were after.

“Now?”

“Yes, now!”

“I’m- I’m at the gym!”

“So finish.”

“Well, I...”

“I’ll wait if you really haven’t finished your workout.”

Taken aback by the turn of events, Changbin looked a little dazed and nodded.

“I only have a couple of sets left,” he said and you nodded.

“Cool, I’ll wait for you upstairs. My place?”

He shrugged, looking as if he had no idea what the right answer was.

But it had to be your place. It had to be on your ground, not for a home advantage but... something like that. Somewhere you felt in control. Somewhere you felt comfortable. Somewhere you knew exactly what your bed was like and where the condoms were.

You decided to take the stairs, initially, because you had energy to burn. Then you realised that tiring yourself before the sex was an even stupider idea than the sex itself, so you opened the door at the top of the next flight of stairs and used the lift.

Bin: gonna shower. Be there in 15?

You: no come now.

Bin: ???

You: what?

Bin: I'm sweaty

You: so?

When he didn’t reply again, you assumed he was ignoring you and showering anyway, but then you heard the beep of your keypad and the door opened.

“Can I just ask,” he began, no greeting, “before we do this... What the fuck has got into you?”

“What?”

“You were not exactly up for it when I asked about it and now you’re skipping work to fuck me? You’re not even letting me shower?”

Your face heated with embarrassment, but the mere fact that you were asking for this gave the game away anyway, so was there really any shame in it?

“I’m ovulating,” you stated, as if that would explain it.

It would, to you. Possibly to anyone else who menstruated. Changbin looked at you wild-eyed.

“Uh...”

You saw his hands just barely raise at his sides, his right foot stepping backwards as if he were trying to surreptitiously retreat.

“I’m not trying to get pregnant, you moron! I’m ovulating and that means I am out of my fucking mind with- with wanting to get laid! I am desperate.”

“Well, you sure know how to make a man feel desired.”

“Oh, shut up. You know the situation we’re in and you said as much to me last time: there is no one else we can fuck right now, but if I don’t fuck someone, I’m going to lose my mind.”

“What happened to your arsenal of toys?”

“Not the same and you know it. I just need to be fucked right now. I am desperate; don’t make me say it again!”

You couldn’t help the impatience and frustration in your tone and you knew it wasn’t sexy, wasn’t encouraging, but there was nothing you could do about it. You were beyond help of any kind other than his cock stuffed inside you. It just happened to make you a little less nice.

“Don’t shout at me! It’s no wonder you’re single if this is how you proposition men!”

“This is not how I proposition men! You propositioned me first! I’m just taking you up on it!”

“Well I’m not going to do it if you’re going to look that fucking angry the whole time!”

“I’m not angry; I’m frustrated!”

“Potayto, po-fucking-tah-to!”

“Are we doing this or not?!”

Changbin didn’t answer immediately and you swore to yourself that, if he said no, you would be fine with it. You would not explode and die right there on the floor of your living room. And you would not hate him forever.

He jabbed a finger at you.

“We’re doing this but you have to not be a total cunt to me the whole time.”

You decided not to hesitate. You didn’t have the patience for taking it slow anyway but one of you had to be decisive; it would be awkward if there was hesitation and stumbling and embarrassment. He had just confirmed his agreement. He had said you were doing it. So you had to do it. Do the damn thing. You grabbed the front of his T-shirt and pulled him towards you, crashing your lips into his.

It was nothing like the first kiss. That was gentle and short and chaste and this was everything but. Before you’d snaked your tongue into his mouth, he had hoisted you in the air. You wrapped your legs around his waist, and he carried you to the sofa and lay you down. He moaned when you sucked at his tongue and you moaned back, your hands already pulling his shirt up his chest.

His skin was damp and sticky with sweat, salty when you put your mouth on it. You didn’t care. You liked the soft animal of his body, liked its power, liked the way it was firm under your hands, unyielding. Liked the way he could so easily have his way with you if he wanted; it’s not like you were weak yourself but Changbin was stronger and you knew you couldn’t take him in a fight. You wanted that. You wanted all that used against you right now. Not to fight but to fuck. You wanted him to fuck you so hard, you couldn’t stand. You could already feel the intense ache in your core as it radiated heat. You needed to be touched. So badly. Now that it was actually happening, you couldn’t believe you had let yourself go so long without it.

“Binnie,” you panted, clutching the waistband of your trousers, shuffling them down, trying to discard them. “Binnie, touch me, please.”

He responded with a nip to the delicate skin of your neck and a hand sliding down your stomach.

“Fucking hell,” he breathed when his fingers found your wet slit. “You weren’t kidding.”

“What?”

“You are desperate.”

“Shut the fuck up, Changbin,” you spat, with perhaps too much bite.

His fingers withdrew and he leant up on his hands, looking down at you with his brows raised.

“You can’t ask me to touch you and then speak to me like that when I do.”

You rolled your eyes and gave him a simpering smile.

“Aw, does Binnie not like it when I’m not nice to him? Oh, poor Binnie,” you cooed in a baby voice. “Does Binnie like praise, huh? Want me to praise you?”

His face hardened but he didn’t tell you it was over, that if you were going to behave like that, he’d change his mind. He didn’t say anything and you knew it was because you were right but he didn’t want to tell you. That was one benefit of sleeping with someone you knew so well. You could read him. You didn’t need him to confirm.

But you also weren’t great at being nice. Praise was not a thing that came naturally to you. And he had said you weren’t allowed to be a total cunt to him. That was fair. You rolled your eyes.

“Fine, I’ll be nice,” you huffed. “Promise.”

It was Changbin who rolled his eyes then and looked as if he didn’t believe you but didn’t care either way. He lowered himself down and brought his lips to yours.

His kiss swallowed the loud sound you made when his fingers found their way south and made their entrance. It had been too long since someone else had got you off. Way too long. You knew it from the way your walls were already spasming, your muscles tightening, your breath catching.

“Harder,” you gasped when he let your mouth go. “Harder, faster, please.”

There was a minute pause in which he registered your instruction and then he complied, but it wasn’t enough.

“Seriously,” you continued. “You don’t have to be nice to me. I want more.”

His eyes met yours and when he raised his brows this time, your stomach swooped; it was dark and promising and there was something in his eyes that said he was going to give you everything you wanted.

He slid another finger inside you and drew back so he could focus his other hand on your swollen clit.

You couldn’t speak. You whimpered and keened and nodded; you clutched at Changbin’s arm and the sofa cushion; you arched your back and drew your feet in. You came with a loud cry and your body flopped backwards, your chest heaving as you got your breath back, your body shaking just a little.

“Thanks,” you panted.

Changbin laughed.

“You’re welcome.”

You pulled him closer, slipping a hand around the back of his neck to bring your face to his, to kiss him, hard, deep, indulgent.

“Where do you keep condoms?” he broke away to ask and your mind was still dazed enough that it took you a second. You shook your head, tried to clear it, and pointed into your bathroom. Changbin moved off you and you stumbled as you got to your feet. He was rising as if to go himself, but you waved him off, sat him back down.

The few steps between him and the bathroom gave you a second to catch your breath, to anticipate what was about to happen with a buzzing kind of glee wailing in your head (and elsewhere). You felt greedy. Insatiable. You wanted to take an entire box of condoms out there and use them all. You wanted to break yourself on him, break him, until there was nothing left of you but dust.

You took one foil packet from the box and returned to Changbin who was still standing next to the sofa, waiting for you. His black shorts hid the damp spots of pre-cum but couldn’t hide the tent of his erection. You felt your mouth water at the thought of it. An icy streak of doubt passed through you when you realised you’d never seen it before. Never had cause to give it any thought at all. What if it was disappointing?

Then Changbin dropped his shorts and his boxers, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding.

“Thank god,” you muttered under your breath, not intending for him to hear, but he cocked his head at you.

“For what?”

You snorted.

“Thank god you have a nice dick.”

He laughed and you could almost see his pride swell in the way he tucked his shoulders back and raised his head a little, the ever so slightly bashful grin that nevertheless carried a certain smugness. You had never known how he did that: vulnerability and arrogance at the same time. But then again, he was a Leo.

You wasted no more time. You pushed him back onto the sofa, tore open the condom packet, and rolled it down his length. You held his cock as you positioned yourself over him, making yourself sink slowly. Making yourself take him inch by inch not all at once, because you would never get this first time again and you wanted to savour it. You wanted to remember exactly how he felt, his girth stretching you in a way that bordered on but didn’t cause pain.

When he was fully sheathed, you sat your full weight on him and took his face in your hands. You kissed him, sloppy and wet and full of tongue, then slowly began to roll your hips. He groaned, squeezed at your glutes, tipped his head back and sighed.

“Fuck, you feel amazing.”

You nodded, but he had his eyes closed, and you remembered just exactly who it was you were dealing with.

“You, too,” you replied. You tucked your face into his neck and keened as you adjusted your angle. You didn’t really talk much, usually. Weren’t sure what to say. Knew you had to say something. You kissed his neck to buy some time, sucking a bruise into his soft skin, tasting the salty tang of his sweat. “Fuck, Binnie,” you whispered. “So good.”

Lame. But you didn’t have the headspace to dwell on it because it was so good. He fit you just right; you were tight and wet and hot and your legs trembled every time the head of his cock squeezed past your g-spot.

“I’m gonna flip you,” he grunted, having noticed it, feeling the clench in your walls with each pass.

Then without another second’s delay, he did, and you were on your back and he was drilling into you with hard, precise thrusts of his hips. You let your head tip back and your mouth hang open, just as he had only moments earlier.

“More,” you murmured as you felt you lose yourself to it. To him. To the pleasure of it all, the pressure building, coiling like a spring. This was exactly what you had wanted. Needed. The relief of it was breath-taking and that was before the orgasm hit you.

Then it slammed into you like a train on a track and you cried out. Your eyes squeezed shut and your muscles tensed hard and your cunt clenched tight around Changbin’s thick length. He grunted, he gasped, he cried out, too, spilling into the condom and letting the tension in his body go, just enough to relax, but not so much to crush you.

When you opened your eyes, stars danced in front of them, the ceiling of your apartment temporarily transformed into a night-sky kaleidoscope. You brushed the hair from Changbin’s face.

“Relax, Bin, you can’t crush me.”

He snorted lightly and let himself put his weight onto you.

Maybe he could crush you. But you could take it. For a moment at least.

“Thank you,” he said, his breath coming in heavy gasps, his stomach pushing against yours with each inhale.

You laughed breathily, your lungs buried under his weight, trapped.

“You’re welcome.”

He lifted his head and the look on his face was hesitant, possibly even a little shy, but you knew what he wanted because you wanted it too. You drew his face to yours and kissed him, soft and sweet, then a little less, then a little deeper, with a little more urgency, your tongue dancing with his, his teeth biting down on your lips, little moans escaping the both of you.

It lasted longer than you had intended. So long that you wanted to go again, that you’d recovered enough to want him some more, to want seconds and even thirds. The box of condoms in your bathroom cabinet sprung into your mind and your heart quickened.

“Hey,” you said quietly, holding his face back from yours so you could look in his eyes. “Do you want to do that again?”

It took a second for your words to register and he didn’t reply except to bring his lips to yours once more. He twisted his body so he could rest on his forearms above you, then he put his weight onto his left side, his right hand trailing down your body as he kissed you.

“Ok, now I really have to shower,” Changbin said, standing from the sofa with a long, tired groan.

“You can shower here if you want,” you said, twisting around to watch him get dressed.

He smiled but shook his head.

“No way. I’ve never known a single person who takes less care of their skin than you do. Your soap would strip me like paint thinner.”

You snorted and rolled your eyes.

“Whatever. My skin is just naturally soft.”

Changbin chuckled.

“You keep telling yourself that, babe.”

You rose, too, as he reached the door and, without realising it was happening, he turned with his hand on the doorknob and you kissed goodbye. It wasn’t until the door was shutting after him that you realised it had happened. Was that weird?

You didn’t have the energy for it. You showered quickly and flopped onto your sofa for an ill-advised, late-afternoon, post-coital nap.

* * *

The next morning, you woke late and rushed through your morning workout, your morning shower, your breakfast, and hurried out of the door to the office. You made yourself a coffee, logged into everything, and then sat staring blankly at your inbox.

You had sex with Changbin. Twice. You hadn’t given it enough thought yesterday—not after and certainly not before. But that was crossing a line, right? Sex changed things. You had put him off the first time because you thought it would make things weird, that it would be weird.

But it hadn’t been. It wasn’t awkward or embarrassing. It was good. So good you’d asked for it again. So good that you could still feel it in your body as you twisted vacantly from side to side on your chair. It had been good for him, too, right? He had been vocal (that much you had expected) but was that acting?

He had been a very convincing fake boyfriend so far. Maybe it had just been a continuation of the act.

Except it had been his idea. In the first place, anyway.

You could feel yourself getting tangled up in knots, so you had a stern word with yourself and set up blocks on your phone so that you might be able to focus better.

The frustrating thing about it was that you couldn’t talk to anyone. You couldn’t go to any of your friends and say ‘oh my god, I slept with Changbin’ because, as far as they were concerned, you’d been sleeping together for weeks—months!—now. It couldn’t be new, couldn’t be news.

You stopped at the shop on the way home for a bottle of wine, then you took it two floors beyond your apartment and let yourself in.

Changbin was on his sofa, shaking a protein drink in a plastic bottle. He looked surprised to see you.

“Look,” you began immediately, plonking the bottle onto the coffee table and retrieving two glasses from his kitchen cupboard. You placed these on the table and poured a generous glug of wine into each. “I have to talk to you and you are just going to have to go with it because I cannot talk to anyone else about this, alright?”

“Ok.”

You took a deep breath and blew it out sharply.

“I slept with Changbin.”

His eyes narrowed and he looked from side to side and back to you.

“Uh... You know I’m Changbin, right? That’s me.”

“Yes, I know!” you shouted, flinging your hands up, sloshing wine over the rim and onto your trousers. “But I can’t tell anyone else, can I? Because then they would know we haven’t been sleeping together! So you are the only person I can talk to! Just go with it.” Then, to let him know you actually really needed this, you added, “please.”

“Ok.”

“I slept with Changbin,” you repeated.

“Right,” he started, and you could tell he wasn’t quite sure what response was the right one. “Uh, how was it?”

“Honestly, really fucking good.”

He grinned, his proud ego shining through, and you slapped him hard on the arm.

“Shut up!” you hissed, even though he hadn’t said anything. “I’m saying it was good.”

“And that’s... bad?”

“No! ... I don’t know! I don’t know anything! Isn’t it weird? Why did we do it? Why wasn’t it weird?! Aren’t you confused?!”

Changbin looked away for a moment and thought it over.

“I’m not confused.”

“You aren’t?”

He shrugged.

“Should I be?”

“It doesn’t affect you at all that we slept together?”

“Does it affect you? Affect you how?”

“I don’t know!” you wailed.

“It’s like I said before, we’re pretending to be dating so we can’t sleep with anyone else. It’s, what did I call it? Stress relief.”

“You also said you were too horny to care if it was weird, but now we’ve had sex, so the... the pressure is gone, right? As in... We’ve had relief... Does that change things?”

He shrugged again and it lit a match of frustration within you.

“Changbin! For fuck’s sake, stop shrugging! Stop being so unbothered by this!”

“Why do you want me to be bothered?! It sounds like you want it to be weird, to come between us, or ruin our friendship or something!-”

“-Of course I don’t!”

“Then why are you here insisting things have to change?”

“I don’t know!”

A loud thumping from the apartment next door broke the tension and you both slumped back on the sofa. You would have to stop shouting if you were going to continue this conversation because Changbin had lived here long enough for you know that that was a polite warning call.

“If it’s made you feel uncomfortable, we don’t have to do it again,” Changbin said, his voice softer now, quieter.

“I’m not uncomfortable. I could never be uncomfortable with you. It just... I don’t know. Maybe I’m overthinking it. You’re right. It was just sex. And we’re just friends.”

“Exactly.”

“Ok.”

You drained your wine glass and re-filled it, putting your feet up on the table as Changbin switched on the TV. He took a minute selecting something to watch (opting for a youtube video on the best mechanics of the Romanian deadlift which was not as boring as it sounds) and, once it was playing, he picked up his wine glass and asked, without looking at you.

“But where does that leave us, exactly? Re: sex. Is it off the table?”

You took a minute to think about it. You didn’t want to say no. Because you knew what it was like now. You knew what you’d be missing. And, if he was right, then it wouldn’t change anything between you. You could have it all. But saying yes still felt like saying something. And you weren’t sure exactly what.

“It’s not off the table,” you answered quietly, your glass perched on your lips so you could take a drink as soon as the sentence ended. You took a gulp larger than you’d intended and tried not to choke.

“Ok, then.”

* * *

It was so not off the table. It was so on the table that it almost became a permanent fixture. It seemed silly not to. You couldn’t sleep with anyone else while you were pretending to date each other and the seal was well and truly broken. It didn’t feel as though you had anything to lose, not since it became clear that it didn’t change things between you.

If anything, it made things better.

It was as if a barrier that you hadn’t known existed between you had dissolved. Pretending to be his girlfriend was so much easier now. You’d always felt awkward about the physicality of it: having to hold his hand, make sure you were near him, the occasional jeering pressure to kiss in front of people as if you had something to prove to them. It was easy now because you’d touched far more than just his hands, kissed him in ways that would be indecent viewed by an audience.

“You guys seem good,” Chaeyong commented lightly from across the table.

You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

“Uh, we do?”

“When did we seem bad?” Changbin asked at the same time.

“Honestly, no one had any hope of the two of you making it,” Seungmin added. “You were always so weird with each other. We thought you might have broken up but didn’t want to tell people or something.”

You and Changbin exchanged a quick glance and you tried not to make it obvious when you gulped and found the inside of your lip between your teeth.

“You mean you think we were pretending to date?” Changbin asked, thoroughly convincing in his bemused scorn.

“Fuck knows! But something was going on, for sure.”

“But you seem normal now.” Chaeyoung smiled sweetly and she looked innocent but, truthfully, she had been your biggest concern: nothing got past her and you were worried that she was still unconvinced.

“Gee, thanks.”

Thank god for Changbin, who was unflappable in the face of his own deceptions.

“We’re saying we’re happy for you, idiots,” Seungmin offered with a withering glare before turning to his other side, where apparently the conversation was of greater interest.

You turned to Changbin with a slyly triumphant smile on your face, which he returned exactly. You didn’t stop yourself leaning forward to kiss him and he didn’t stop you either.

* * *

For the first few weeks of your ‘relationship’, you had genuinely spent time and effort trying to think of a way for the two of you to end it. None seemed satisfactory. You weren’t really an experienced liar (not to this extent) and they all seemed transparent, lame, obviously made-up. It was as if you had never experienced any sort of relationship before because you just couldn’t think of a reasonable way for you and Changbin to stop dating.

Frustrated by your lack of progress on the topic, you thought of it less and less often. Then you and Changbin started sleeping together and you stopped thinking about it altogether. This situation was working out quite nicely for the both of you. All the fun parts of a relationship with none of the drawbacks.

You were enjoying it so much, you were annoyed you hadn’t thought of it before. And it seemed like the feeling was mutual. Changbin hadn’t raised the topic of your break-up; he still called your pet names and kissed you in public.

You had been sure, when you first suggested it, that it would be a disaster. But your desperation to get one over on your sister had been just enough to override that worry. Now, you were certain it was the best idea you’d ever had, and you were very nearly grateful to Hani for forcing it.

“Hey,” Changbin said softly, catching your hand and dragging you away from the group.

It was summer and the river park was busy. You had amassed a greater group of people than you’d expected – word going around to friends of friends of friends – and your absence from it would not be noticed quickly.

Not that anyone would care if they did notice. You were a couple now; you were allowed to disappear by yourselves.

“Have you met Sakura?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah, Felix’s friend, right?”

He nodded.

“Yeah, I mean, we met today. I don’t know her. Why?”

“She asked me out.”

“What?! Doesn’t she know you have a girlfriend?”

It shouldn’t have bothered you. Because you weren’t his girlfriend, not really. You didn’t have any real claim to him. In fact, this should probably have happened before now, you told yourself. Changbin was a catch; he was hot and fun and kind and, frankly, anyone would be fucking lucky to have him.

But you had him. As far as anyone knew anyway. Hadn’t you literally been introduced to Sakura as his girlfriend earlier that day? Where the fuck did she get off asking out your boyfriend?

Changbin shrugged again and you felt your hackles raise.

“I guess she forgot? I don’t know.”

“Well, why are you bringing it up to me? Obviously you said no.”

“I said no.”

“So why bother telling me? Are you saying you want to go out with her?”

“I was just checking whether or not I’d ever be allowed to go out with anyone again. Y’know, if you were ever going to end this thing like you promised you would months ago?”

You started. He hadn’t brought that up for ages. You hadn’t thought about it. You felt strongly that you should not admit to not having thought about it.

“Of course, I’m going to end it,” you hissed. “Want me to do it right now so you can go over and tell Sakura you’ve changed your mind?”

“Don’t overreact, Miki. This was always going to end. You specifically promised me that it would, in fact.”

“And it will! I actually thought we were both ok with things as they were, since we’re both getting something from it, but fine. I’ll have your break-up ready for you tomorrow.”

You didn’t wait for a response. You stalked off, too angry to notice that you were leaving your phone and your bag and everything else in the park. Too angry to turn back when you did notice. You walked, with heavy, angry footsteps, for a mile or two in the direction of your apartment which was still several miles away. Then you stopped and stood and didn’t know what to do. Your heart was still pounding, your breath coming heavily because you did not commit yourself to cardio in the way you did to lifting, and you were still shaky with anger.

You could not turn back. The horror of the embarrassment you would feel having to return after storming off was too strong. But you couldn’t walk all the way home. You weren’t even sure exactly which way to go, having never done the journey fully on foot before. You were stranded. You knew your only option was the river. But you decided you would rather die than go back there. You would rather sleep on the street than show your face.

You continued to stand there, waiting for your anger to fade, to be replaced by worry and, yes, embarrassment. You tried to guess what time everyone would start leaving. It was still light (such was the curse of the summer months) so it was entirely possible that some would stay late into the evening, the night even. You couldn’t stand out on the street for that long.

“Hey.”

You whipped around at the sound of his voice. He was five feet away.

“What do you want?”

You could see him biting his tongue, being the bigger person.

“Thought you might you need this,” Changbin said, holding out your bag.

“Whatever,” you replied, neither turning away nor reaching out for it.

“Well, if you don’t want it...”

He went to turn, to walk back the way he had come, but you snatched your bag from his hand. Before he could react, you put your feet to asphalt, as quickly as you could without running.

“You’re fucking welcome!” he shouted after you.

You were seething again, your stomach roiling, your blood boiling, sweat pricking in your hair. You walked to the nearest subway station in a kind of red haze, barely aware of your surroundings, cognisant only of your own body and its rage.

He didn’t call you the next day.

Or the next day.

Or the one after that.

You wondered if that was it. If that would do it. Break you up. Was it already over? The thought pained you, but you were still angry with him. He had pulled you aside to tell you that another woman was interested in him; he had suggested he was interested in her. But he was supposed to be yours.

He wasn’t yours. You repeated it to yourself, knowing that it should help, that it should make it not hurt, that it should make you not angry with him, that it was the truth. But it didn’t work. You couldn’t make it go away.

He didn’t call you for a full week and you were scowling at lunch with your sister and her husband, your parents, too. Chan asked if he could speak with you. It shook you from your sour stupor and you followed him without hesitation.

“So what’s up with you and Changbin?” he asked, casually, as if he weren’t kicking a hornet’s nest.

“Nothing,” came your sullen reply.

“Ok... So what’s up with you and Changbin?”

You scowled some more and kept your mouth shut.

“There’s obviously something going on between the two of you, and he won’t tell me what it is so I’m asking you. It sucks to see you two like this. You know how happy Hani and I were about you two getting together....”

If you hadn’t been so self-indulgent with your week-long bad mood, you might have sensed his tone, caught the micro-expressions on his face that were giving you an opening. But you had been self-indulgent, so you missed them all.

“If he won’t tell you, I don’t see why I should.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything, but I thought I would ask you myself before I tell your sister.”

He had your full attention now.

“What do you mean tell my sister?”

“I mean tell her that I’m worried that something has happened between the two of you. You’re fighting or not speaking or somethin-”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I know both of you? Changbin has been out of sorts all week and you have barely touched your food, barely uttered a word except to be as horrible to your sister as you’ve ever been.”

Chan never told you off. He never told anyone off. You felt chastened and shamed but that only fuelled your anger.

“Fine, I’ll go.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“I’m clearly not wanted here if I’m so horrible to your precious, little wife-” You saw the way his jaw clenched and you knew that he would kick you out himself if you said much more; it felt good, pushing that button. Made you feel like you had a little bit of control, a little bit of power. “As if I ever gave a shit about her anyway. I only come to these stupid lunches because my parents make me. I hate coming. I hate Hani. I hate you. And I fucking hate Changbin!”

Chan said nothing. He looked at you with dark, furious eyes and took hold of your elbow. He escorted you carefully to the front door, waited while you put on your shoes, handed you your things, and shut the door firmly behind you.

You wished you could scream. You immediately ordered a taxi and waited impatiently until you got home. Then you picked up your pillow, pressed it to your face and let rip. You raged until your head hurt and then you fell asleep on your sofa, waking in the small hours of the morning with a sore neck. You climbed into your bed and tossed and turned. You did not sleep. You refused to get up.

When the sun was high in the sky and streaming into your apartment, there came a knock on the door. You thought for five seconds about ignoring it because you weren’t expecting and didn’t want to see anyone. Then you got up to answer it anyway.

“So apparently you hate me,” he said in greeting.

Changbin stood at your door. He didn’t let himself in. He knocked. He waited for you to open it.

Then he said that, and you bit back before you could stop yourself.

“Isn’t the feeling mutual?”

Changbin sighed. Rolled his eyes.

“Ok, let me know when you’ll stop being a cunt and maybe I’ll try again.”

He walked away and you let him.

* * *

You kept waiting for him to come again. He didn’t. You waited for him to call or text. He didn’t. As time went on, you had assumed you would care less, get over it, stop being bothered by it. You didn’t.

It had started to hurt. It began as a needling kind of pain, sharp but small. Then it began to grow and now you woke with a hole in your chest and bitterness in your heart.

You thought about him all the time. What he must be telling people. You had refused to talk to anyone about it, refused to go out, shut yourself up in your poky apartment waiting for it all to go away.

It didn’t.

There was a knock on your door and you jumped, because it had to be Changbin. Because who else could get into the building?

Your body physically withered at the sight of your sister.

“How did you get in here?” you asked.

“I know your building code, Miki. I know your door code, too, but I didn’t want to just barge in.”

“Why not? You love barging in. You love poking your nose in where it’s not welcome.”

Hani did not reply. She sat on your coffee table and gestured for you to take a seat opposite her on your sofa.

“What do you want?”

“I came to see if you wanted to talk about it.”

“Talk about what?”

Hani closed her eyes briefly and you knew she was rolling them beneath her lids. She was too polite to just do it outwardly, even though it was obvious how she felt.

“You and Changbin haven’t been speaking much, huh?”

“Fuck off, Hani.”

“I know he misses you.”

“You don’t know anything.”

“I’m married to his best friend, M-”

“I’m his best friend!”

“Ok, ok, I’m married to one of his very close friends. Chan says he’s miserable and I know you are, too.”

“You don’t know anything.”

“I don’t know much, I’ll admit that, but that’s because you don’t tell me anything. Have you ever considered that I’d be less ‘fucking annoying’ if you ever let me in? If you ever volunteered information about yourself and your life? I don’t like being the person you think I am. I know you think I’m hen-pecking you, I’m a nag, I’m just like Mum and all the much less kind things you’ve said. But I’m not. You just think I am because you take every question as an attack; you think every inquiry is an interrogation.

“You are the spikiest person I’ve ever met and the reason I was pushing the boyfriend thing with you is because you’ve got worse since you and-”

“Don’t say his name-”

“... Since the break-up. You were spiky before but now you’re mean and you’re bitter and miserable. And I know you want to be happy, so I pushed it. And then you got with Changbin and I was so happy. You were so happy. Now you’re going to ruin it all by being your-.”

“That’s why I think you’re a cunt,” you interrupted. “I’m going to ruin my relationship by being myself? Thanks a fucking bunch.”

“I was going to say you’re going to ruin it by being your worst self. Your scared self. Your angry, short-tempered self that lashes out at people. You have a soft centre, Miki, but you also have a moat full of spikes and a portcullis. You have thorns and a dragon guarding you.

“But I saw the way you looked at Changbin and I haven’t seen you look like that for a long time. Even towards the end of your last relationship, you’d lost it. But you had it back. And I don’t want you to throw it away.”

You didn’t reply because you didn’t have anything to say. You couldn’t argue with the truth, but you weren’t going to tell her she was right. You couldn’t take it.

You’d spent your whole life feeling like the fuck up, the first pancake, compared to Hanbyeol and her ability to get everything right. She had one boyfriend before she went to university and they were sweet and innocent and didn’t even sleep together. Then she met Chan on her first day at university and they’d been together ever since. She graduated with a perfect degree and got a good job on a good career path and has been walking it ever since.

You slept with your first boyfriend at the age of 15 and he promptly dumped you. You spent four years on an art degree that went fucking nowhere and did nothing for you. You’d had jobs and quit jobs and been fired from jobs; you’d dated and had partners and dumped them and been dumped by them. Nothing stuck.

“You don’t know anything,” you mumbled sullenly back, your fire extinguished.

“I would if you told me.” But she wasn’t chastising, wasn’t telling you off. She was just saying it, softly, gently now.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“That’s ok. You don’t have to talk about it with me if you don’t want. But you should talk to Changbin. He really does miss you. And I really don’t want you to miss out on what you had with him because you’re afraid or being stubborn. Sometimes you have to meet people halfway, Miki; it’s not fair to make him come to you every time.”

She stood and left your apartment without another word. Your bottom lip wobbled.

Was it too late?

You didn’t know where to start. How to start. What to do. Who to turn to. The only person you could talk about this with was Changbin because he was the only person who knew the truth. It wasn’t even a matter of your pride anymore; it would have felt like a betrayal to reveal the secret to anyone else. But you couldn’t just go to Changin, half-cocked, with nothing in your head but a jumble of half-formed sentences and no idea what you really wanted.

You let another week go by.

The gym felt stuffy. You were sure the aircon wasn’t working properly because it should not have been that warm in there, even if it was over 30 degrees outside. You were dripping with sweat and looking around, praying for chalk so you could dry your hands properly. You had given up on the barbell because you didn’t think you’d be able to grip it with such wet hands. You were miserable and grumpy, and the workout sucked.

Then Changbin walked in.

You felt sick. Your first instinct was to hide, but there was nowhere to hide. And he’d already seen you. Your eyes caught and he slowed to a stop, just looking at you. You had to make the first move. You knew you had to.

You stood from the bench and walked towards him, crossing your heart and hoping to die that he wouldn’t walk away.

“Hi,” you said, your voice small.

“Hi,” he returned.

You could barely look him in the eye. You hadn’t prepared for this.

“It’s pretty unbearable in here, right now. I think the aircon is broken,” you offered, cursing yourself all the while.

Changbin seemed surprised and he nodded with a small ‘oh’.

“I think I’ll be fine,” he said. “I wasn’t planning to be long anyway.”

“Right. Yeah. Ok.”

It was tugging at your heart, this need to say something, this inability to do so.

Changbin waited only a few more seconds and then he pointed beyond you and began to move away.

“Wait!”

He stopped.

“I... can we talk? Sometime. Not now. Later. I don’t know. I- I... We should talk.”

You kept your eyes trained on the ground and could feel his gaze on you. He answered slowly.

“Yeah, ok. Text me or something.”

You nodded and scarpered, workout unfinished, but you reached the lift and breathed a sigh of relief. Had that been so bad? You’d survived. You were still in one piece. And he’d agreed to talk to you.

Part of you wanted to go back and tell him, actually, it has to be now. You wanted to get it over with. Another part of you wanted it to never happen. You still didn’t know what you would say to him.

You stood, nervously, outside his apartment, waiting for your courage to build to a sufficient level for you to knock on his door. It was taking its sweet time. You weren’t sure if it would ever get there. Your palms were sweaty, the backs of your knees, too. You realised the last time you were this nervous to speak to someone was the day your last relationship ended and you stood outside your shared apartment, waiting for the courage to go in and end it. Have it ended for you. Not by you. You had certainly never been this nervous with Changbin: not the first time you went to your sister’s pretending to be together, not the first time you had sex. You had always felt comfortable with him.

Now you didn’t. And that was on you.

You closed your eyes, gritted your teeth, and knocked. The door opened almost instantly.

“Oh. Hi. That was quick.”

“I know; you’ve been out there for ages. I’ve been standing here waiting for you to knock.”

“Oh.”

Your face flamed so hot, it made your eyes sting. Changbin stood back and gestured you into his apartment. You waited for him to sit on the sofa and then you took your place on the floor, just off to the side. Somehow, you didn’t feel like you could sit equally next to him. You had apologies to make, grovelling to do.

Changbin waited.

“I’m sorry,” you offered first. The easiest thing to say because it covered all manner of your sins.

“What for?”

Less easy.

“Everything,” you choked. “For making you pretend to be my boyfriend, for not breaking us up, for my short temper and impatience, for overreacting to the Sakura thing, for not speaking to you. All of it, really.”

You heard him take a deep breath but didn’t dare look at him. The silence felt stiff. You couldn’t say anything more even if you’d wanted to. You needed to know what his response was first.

He sighed.

“They’re not the things I want you to be sorry for... I suppose I should apologise, too.”

“What for?”

You were struggling with the silence. If there was one word that could never describe you or Changbin, it was ‘quiet.’ You would have needed more hands to be able to count on fingers the number of noise complaints he’d received from his neighbours. It was never like this between the two of you. It was never awkward like this.

“I don’t want to say it,” he said eventually. “I feel like shit and I don’t want to say it because I’ll feel even more like shit.”

“I don’t want you to feel like shit.”

“That’s how you’ve been treating me.”

Tears pricked in your eyes and you did your best to swallow the anger that was rising with them. Your temper was the reason you were in this mess; it could not get you out of it. But Changbin continued before you could find a word to say.

“I got it wrong, obviously. I thought it was going somewhere. Not at first, obviously. But something had changed and I thought, ok, maybe something is happening now. Maybe this... Maybe this could be real. Then it went on longer and longer and I realised how stupid I was to think that. Because you didn’t want anything more. That was clear. That was really clear and I should have seen it long before I did.”

He sighed heavily and fell back against the sofa cushions. You risked a peek and saw him contemplate the ceiling.

“I made the Sakura thing up.”

“What?”

“I made it up. Of course she didn’t ask me out! She had been introduced to us together. You were introduced as my girlfriend; why would she have then tried something? I just had to see how you’d react. I wanted to... test, I suppose, how you felt.”

You took your time speaking because you could feel your rage simmering in your gut. You were trying so hard not to be angry, not to react. But he’d lied to you. Manipulated you. This was his fault and all this time you thought it was yours? Why would he do that?

“Are you going to fucking say anything, Miki?”

‘Yes,’ you thought, ‘just as soon as I can stop seeing red.’

“I don’t understand.”

The words were sharp in your throat, painfully clawing their way out. You could feel Changbin’s patience ebbing away, too, and the whole situation was as if you were dancing on a tightrope. You had thought it would be easy to straighten out: an apology, some reluctant forgiveness, a few jokes and things would be back to normal. Guess not.

“It made me feel used.”

His confession was small. Small and quiet so you knew it was real, that he wasn’t after a reaction or a fight. He was just telling you the truth.

“Used?”

“I was up for it, at first. I agreed, I didn’t have to but I did. I signed up for it. I know that. Pretending to be your boyfriend was fun to start with. Making you squirm. Though, to be honest, it wasn’t fun that you were so... disgusted by the idea of us being together. The way you flinched every time I touched you or looked nauseated half the time at the thought of us so much as kissing. That wasn’t exactly a balm to my ego. But I could take it. And you got used to it, I thought. Got less disgusted.

“Then we started having sex and things changed. You changed. And I didn’t really know what it meant but I know you well enough that I knew not to push too hard. I guess I thought, at some point, you would come out and say it. But you didn’t. At all. Things carried on exactly as they were and I realised that’s what you wanted. You didn’t want me for anything more. You wanted to have sex and pretend we were together but you didn’t want to be together. You didn’t want me. You just wanted me to keep up your pretence to get one over on your sister; you wanted the convenience of, I don’t even know what. It was like you liked the idea of being with me but not the reality of it. And I got sick of it, ok?

“That’s what made me feel like shit. That’s what made me feel used. And I know you; I knew you were never going to talk to me about it. So I made up the Sakura thing. I wanted a reaction from you. I wanted to see if you gave a shit at all.”

You wanted him to continue, to say things so that you didn’t have to. Because you did give a shit. You were incensed that Sakura dared to ask him out. You were angry with him because you felt like he wanted to go out with her. You felt betrayed by it. Abandoned. Rejected. Surely that had been obvious by your reaction. Surely you didn’t have to say that now?

Though you still weren’t sure what it meant. Hearing Changbin spell it all out like that: his hurt, the word ‘disgusted’, his hope, your inability to communicate being thrown in your face when you had hoped it was a secret. You didn’t want him to see you like that: inept and selfish and inconsiderate. Used. You had used him. Your first instinct had been to kick back at that, deny it vociferously, scream at Changbin and call him every name under the sun, storm out.

But you weren’t doing that anymore. You weren’t going to let your temper ruin this. Again.

Or you were trying.

“Obviously I give a shit,” you said sullenly, a little sulkily despite your best efforts.

“I don’t know.”

“How can you say that you don’t know? Don’t you know me?”

“Yeah, I know you but I’m really beginning to see the limits of my knowledge. I can’t know everything, Miki. I can’t read your mind. Sometimes you have to say things. Sometimes you have to say things even if the other person already knows them! Things need to be said. They need to be heard.”

“What things?”

“I don’t believe you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” You could hear your voice rising but couldn’t stop it.

“Yes, you do!” His was rising, too. “You know exactly what I’m saying and you know what I want you to say but you won’t say it and that’s the fucking problem, isn’t it?”

You opened your mouth to argue back but he got in first.

“Or you really, actually don’t know what I’m talking about and that, in itself, is a problem. Either way, you need to figure it out.”

His tone was final. Conclusive. Dismissive. But you had only just got started so you weren’t going to leave just yet.

“Why do I have to figure it out?”

“Because it’s your problem!”

“No, it’s not! You’re the one who lied about Sakura! You made this mess!”

Changbin got to his feet.

“I made this mess? This entire thing was your idea! I have followed your lead the entire time and you have led me down a fucking merry path! Do you kn-”

“I’ve been leading?! You’re the one who suggested we have sex!”

“You’re the one who took me up on it! And I’d never have suggested it if we weren’t trapped in a situation of your making!”

“You didn’t have to go along with it!”

“You asked me to! You’re my friend! Friends do each other favours! Of course I was going to say yes!”

“I didn’t force you to!”

“Friendship forced me, you idiot! But I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you don’t understand that.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

You were interrupted by a knock at the door. Changbin answered and it was building security, here to offer up yet another warning regarding the noise. Changbin apologised, promised to keep it down and returned to the sofa.

“Ball’s in your court,” he told you. “It’s up to you.”

“What’s up to me?”

You made the mistake of looking up at him and his glare could have turned you to stone.

“Don’t act stupid, Miki. You figure it out.”

You wanted to argue. You wanted to have this out right here, right now. Arguing cleared the air. You had been getting somewhere before his pathetic, meddling neighbours had gone and complained about the noise. Maybe you should have made him come to you; your neighbours had never complained, never even made a peep. Maybe you should have gone somewhere open – the park, the river, somewhere you could shout at each other amongst all the noise of the city.

You didn’t want to leave.

“Will you just go?” he asked, impatience ringing clear as a bell through his tone.

You bit the inside of your lip to stop yourself saying no. Then you let it go.

“No. I’m not leaving.”

“I don’t have anything more to say to you.”

“Well maybe I have things to say to you!”

“Do you?”

Yes. No. Maybe. They were there somewhere, the words you wanted to say, the words he wanted to hear. You knew they were there, germinating somewhere deep and dark and bloody. You weren’t ready for them to sprout, to grow, to bloom.

“Miki, I don’t want to ask you again. Please leave.”

When you remained sitting on the floor, he sighed and turned the TV on; he watched and didn’t look your way. He kept watching and didn’t glance down even once.

You knew you weren’t going to say anything but leaving felt like defeat. It felt like walking away. It was walking away. You didn’t want to walk away from Changbin.

You had no choice but to.

* * *

“Can I talk to you?” Chan asked, the following Sunday.

You didn’t get the sense this time that you were in trouble, but you knew you would deserve it if you were.

“I wanted to apologise,” he began and you started.

“You want to apologise to me?”

“Yes. I should have known better than to ask you so directly about you and Changbin. I just didn’t know how to tiptoe around it and, to be honest, I was kind of worried about Changbin; I was thinking of him, not you. So I’m sorry for pushing it.”

No wonder Hani fell in love with him.

“You don’t have to apologise to me, Chan. I should be apologising to you. I was rude; you were just being nice. I appreciate it, actually, that you came to me yourself before siccing my sister on me. I didn’t mean what I said.”

“I know you didn’t.”

“Did you tell Hani I said it?”

He chuckled.

“No, of course not.”

“Good.” You paused. “Thank you. And I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok. Air cleared. We’re all good. But... can I ask now about you and Changbin? He said you talked.”

“Then you probably know everything already.”

His eyebrow quirked and you weren’t too angry to miss it this time.

“What?” you asked.

“I don’t think I know everything.”

“Enough.” You shrugged. “He says the ball’s in my court, but I don’t know what to do with it.”

“Don’t you?”

You could feel your conversation with Changbin started to repeat itself.

No, you did not know what to do with the ball and you were getting pretty tired of holding it. It was Changbin. Your Binnie. Not your Binnie. Just Binnie. He was your friend, your best friend. He was your fake boyfriend because your sister had bugged you just one too many times about it. He was your friend-with-benefits because you couldn’t both keep the lie going and sleep with anyone else. He was...

He had said he felt used. You hadn’t felt like you were using him. Or maybe you thought you were using each other, in which case it was fine. You were both benefiting, weren’t you? You got all the perks of a relationship with none of the obligations. It was ideal. It was really the perfect situation. You had thought.

Changbin obviously didn’t feel the same. You kept running it through your head, the things he had said:

“I thought it was going somewhere.”

“Something was happening.”

“Maybe this could be real.”

It wasn’t real. That was the whole point. It wasn’t supposed to be real.

But your anger when Changbin lied about Sakura was real. The sense of betrayal you felt. The abandonment.

Your comfort with him was real. The ease you felt in his company. The joy and contentment in just lounging around together, with no pressure to be anything other than who and what you were.

Your pleasure was real, once you started sleeping together. The literally toe-curling, hair-raising, blood-curdling ecstasy he ripped out of you. Gave to you. The soft sweetness of his kisses and the unyielding strength of his body; his smooth, golden skin, and curly, black hair. The noises you’d never heard him make before that you could now conjure up whenever you liked, that echoed in your dreams. All of that was real. It was more than real; it was animal. It was pure. It was mindless and easy and natural.

Natural, too, it became when you kissed outside of the bedroom. When you leant into him and he pulled you close with his arm around your shoulder. When he held your hand. When he placed a protective hand on your back on the subway, in a bar queue, just letting you know he was there. He was there for you.

He was right that you’d felt awkward at first. That you hated the pet names and the embarrassment that came with them. You hated him for being mischievous and jeopardising the whole operation by testing your non-existent acting skills. You weren’t sure when that feeling stopped. You were sure it was before you slept together but then you remembered the watershed that occurred afterwards.

An invisible wall between you had disappeared; a veil had been lifted. It was as if all your interactions with Changbin before that moment had been happening behind a barrier. You were holding hands through the holes of a fence, one of you on either side of it. You were clinging to each other from far away.

Then suddenly, you weren’t. You were on the same side of the fence. You were not just close but united. Joined. One.

It hurt your heart to think about it. It hurt so much. It hurt like a break-up. It hurt like heartbreak.

So you knew the answers. The answer. But you didn’t want to.

You looked up at Chan, the inside of your lip torn to shreds. You shrugged.

“I don’t know what to do,” you said, and it came out tight and choked, tears you hadn’t realised were there stinging in your eyes.

Chan pulled you into his arms for a hug and, on any other day, you’d have shoved him off, but it came as a relief. You leant into him and wrapped your arms around his waist.

“You’re a good brother,” you said quietly, trying not to sniffle. “I’m glad Hani married you.”

“Thanks, Miki. That really means a lot to me, you know.”

He rubbed your back and you felt like the world’s most pathetic loser, and sickeningly grateful for Chan at that moment.

“You and Bin can work it out, I promise.”

You could only hope that was true.

* * *

You sat with the answer for longer than you should have. You should have taken it to Changbin as soon as you knew the truth. You even knew what was stopping you. But that knowledge wasn’t helping you get past it.

You lay on your sofa, rotting, hoping to decay to the point that your decomposing body could leak into the cushions and you could become one with it. You stared at your ceiling. You were putting it off. You didn’t want to do it, but doing anything else felt like defeat, felt like shirking your responsibility, felt like running away. So you just lay and stared and waited for something to make you move.

The longer you left it, the harder it would be. The longer you left it, the less likely it was that Changbin would respond how you wanted him to. Because you were leaving him hanging. Stringing him along—you had been stringing him along, however unwittingly, for weeks now. That wasn’t fair and he had every right to be angry, to dislike you, to not want anything more. To have changed his mind.

God, you hoped he hadn’t changed his mind.

You could scarcely believe that it had been three weeks now that you’d not been speaking. Three weeks with just one argument between you. No wonder it felt like a break-up. Your relationship might technically have been fake, but you had dug deep enough to realise that your feelings weren’t.

You cringed to yourself. You hated that. You hated thinking about your feelings. You hated that they existed. You hated that they hurt so much, all the time. You hated how much you missed him, how scared you were to lose him.

That was enough, you’d decided. It hit you over the head, your oldest friend, impatience. You had had enough of this, you said to yourself. Rip the fucking plaster off and, if you bled all over the floor, so be it. At least maybe you’d bleed to death.

You took the stairs to Changbin’s floor and hammered on his door. No answer. You let yourself in, using his door code.

“Binnie?”

The apartment was empty.

Not wanting to lose any momentum, not wanting either to give him any notice, to initiate any contact that might psych you out or knock you off-course, you decided to head to the gym. It was as likely a place for him to be as any.

You were right. He was on the floor, stretching, when you entered. That was good; that meant he had finished. Also good: the gym was empty but for the two of you.

You strode over and sat next to him. You placed your hand on his arm. You knew what you had to tell him but hadn’t quite picked the words. They were never your strong suit. He turned to look at you, his face an open question, and shuffled into a more comfortable position.

The words didn’t come but the impulse did. You leant forward and kissed him. Tentative, hesitant, light. The second seemed to stretch forever; you were desperate for it to end and dying for it not to. Your heart was pounding so hard, you could hear it in your ears. Your body was flushing warm, running hot and you could feel the heat from him, too, though you knew his wasn’t anything to do with you.

The second finally ended and you pulled back, but only barely, just enough to see his eyes, usually so intense but, at this moment, open, sparkling, asking.

You kissed him again. You hadn’t meant to; it happened without your say so. This time, he responded. You felt his lips move against yours, his head turn so they slotted together, so he could run his tongue over your bottom lip. You moved your hands into his hair, damp with sweat, curling at the edges of his face.

“Binnie,” you whispered, when his lips left yours a second time.

“Miki,” he returned.

“I want to tell you-”

He interrupted you with his mouth on yours again. You made a noise of protest, but it was weak and you didn’t follow through because it had hit you, how much you missed this. How much you wanted it. How much you had liked it at the time and not allowed yourself to notice.

You had to be closer to him. You shuffled on your knees and sat yourself in his lap; he pulled you to his body until his sweat soaked through your shirt. Your mouth journeyed across his face, to his jaw, walking a trail down his neck, kissing wet drops of sweat from his skin.

“Miki...”

“Binnie...”

Your mouth reversed its travels and you sucked his bottom lip between yours, sank your teeth into it gently and then not so gently. The groan he made, deep in his chest, lit you up on the inside, burning hot now, your own sweat starting to prickle on your skin.

Before you lost your mind completely to the heat and the haze, you pulled back. You pressed your forehead against his and took a second to get your breath back, breath you hadn’t noticed he had taken.

“I need to tell you,” you repeated. “I have to tell you things.”

You felt him nod against you.

“Ok, you can tell me.”

“I’m sorry.”

It wasn’t the thing you wanted to start with. You wished you could have said it all without having to apologise. But you’d done things that you were sorry for and he had to know.

“I’m sorry I’m so stupid and I’m sorry I used you and I’m sorry I don’t know how to be honest with you and I’m sorry I don’t know how to feel things and I’m sorry I shouted at you and was a dick to you and said I hated you. I’m sorry I did all this stupid shit. I’m sorry I didn’t notice. I'm sorry I didn’t realise. I’m sorry I didn’t speak to you. I’m sorry for all of it.”

His lips were back before you had even closed your mouth. You pushed against his chest with your hands.

“Stop kissing me! I have to say stuff!”

“I know, but I have stuff to say, too, and I want to say it like this,” he replied, pausing between each clause to press his mouth against yours, staying so close that you could feel his lips move as he spoke.

“You said I had to go first,” you reminded him. “Let me go first.”

He huffed but leant back a little and you did the same, the air between you clearing just enough for you to remember how nervous you were, how terrified, even though he’d just been kissing you, even though you sat in his lap with his arms around you.

“It started out not being real,” you began. “It really wasn’t real and I intended for it to never be real because I just wanted Hani to leave me alone and I was going to end it. I swear. I was racking my brain trying to come up with a good solution. Especially because you were being so annoying! I thought you wanted it to fail because you were winding me up so much. And you were right, I fucking flinched and I hated it; it made me so uncomfortable because it was so weird to have you doing that. We didn’t do that!

“Then you kissed me on the subway and it was... nice. And then horrible because it shouldn’t have been nice! And then we had sex and it was... more than nice. And I... I didn’t want to break us up anymore because I liked how it was. I kept saying to myself that we had all of the perks of a real relationship with none of the drawbacks but what I really meant, though I didn’t know it, was that I had all the security of a relationship with none of the risk.

“I didn’t want to risk it. Having feelings. Going there. With you, especially. Not because—not because I d--... Not... It was you, Binnie. You were my best friend. I trust you with everything. You know all of my stupid secrets; you’ve seen me throw up on the street; you gave me food poisoning so bad I literally shit myself in your doorway; it’s you--”

“Can I make a recommendation?”

“What?”

“Maybe don’t talk about shitting yourself while you’re trying to confess your undying love for me?”

You slapped him hard on the arm.

“Shut the fuck up! I’m being fucking vulnerable here, you prick!”

He laughed and you let him kiss you, just a little, just long enough for the flash of your annoyance to fade.

“My point is,” you continued, pushing back against him, “that if you didn’t want me, who the fuck would? You are the person who could... You’re the person who could hurt me the most. Out of anyone. Out of everyone. If I didn’t have you, if you said no, if I fucked things up, who would I have? I didn’t want to lose you.”

“So you kept me at arm’s length and pushed me away and didn’t speak to me for weeks.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

Shame flamed on your cheeks. It swallowed your voice, made your throat tight and your eyes sting. You dropped your gaze, focusing on your hand around his bicep, your ragged thumbnail that you had chewed to bits. You watched it raise and lower as Changbin shrugged.

“It’s ok. I did it, too. I could have brought it up. But I didn’t. Because, honestly, I knew it would go badly and I thought it would be easier to fight than talk about it. I thought you would find it easier if I pushed you to be angry rather than pushing you to be... open. I thought if you really felt anything, it would come out in an argument. That wasn’t fair of-”

“No, that is pretty much right on the money. You’re right. It’s so much easier to be angry with you than... than this.”

“Are you still angry?”

You shook your head. You were as far from angry as you’d ever been.

“Are you still angry with me?” you countered, swallowing hard.

“No.”

A sigh of relief.

“Tell me, then,” he whispered, his lips moving against yours in anticipation of a kiss.

“Tell you what?”

“What you want.”

And it came out easily.

“You.”

* * *

#skz fanfic #changbin fanfic #skz x reader #skz smut #changbin x reader #changbin smut #seo changbin #seo changbin fanfic #changbin fic #skz fic

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wonwooslibrary · 5 months

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svt as boyfriends ♡ joshua edition

member: joshua x reader genre: established relationship, bullet points word count: 738 summary: joshua's boyfriend things ;) warnings: mentions of food and i think that's it! let me know if i missed anything! author's note: y'all i am almost two whole days late with this oh god it keeps getting worse. i am...very tired haha i've been working a lot to build up some money while i'm not in school so yeah. i lowkey forgot about joshua/taehyung day until i opened twitter and saw people talking abt shua and i was like WAIT THAT IS TODAY anyway moral of the story i'm tired and need a break but here is the joshua fic we've all been waiting for! ily all and enjoy <3

He lowkey gives the vibes of like. The foreign exchange student bf with a relationship with a deadline

He’s the silly bf!!!

He’s also one of the members I see the least as a boyfriend so this is going to be interesting to write…

Quality Time

Mans is a fan of everything fr !!! He absolutely loves spending time with you and your shared group of friends

Loves doing silly little activities with you like making bracelets and painting

He might just be the artsy bf we all want

Joshua loves to go to different places with you like thrift stores, arcades, cafes, literally anything as long as he is with you <3

Loves the feeling of mixing his friend groups - the day you meet his friends aka his brothers he will be imploding with love for everyone

Is the “i get bored easily” bf so y’all gotta be doing like ten different things at once

Will totally ask you to dance or just close your eyes and be with him when a slow song comes on at a party / get together / playing music at home

Words of Affirmation

You totally call him Joshy or Shua and he loves every minute of it bc he thinks it’s cute

“Darling, would you like to get coffee with me tomorrow morning?” SCREECHING

Believes the relationship revolves around pet names (ie. baby, sweetie, darling) he's adorable

Is always proud of you and encouraging!!!

Likes to leave little notes for you around the house. Maybe by your favorite drink in the fridge that reads, “I got these for you. stay hydrated, love”

At the beginning of the relationship he was so formal with you, that it took him saying “I love you” for the first time to relax for five seconds LOL

Physical Touch

Joshua loves handholding ‼️

This man always wants to have some sort of contact with you, whether that be holding hands, linking fingers or rubbing your back

Loves having you sit on his lap or lay your legs across his

His go-to move when you are in public is linking your pinkies together (how cute :3)

Leans on you when he laughs because he cannot sit still

I feel like Joshua would like. move his fingers on your leg in the way of playing piano keys but with guitar if that makes sense? Like where the frets are? Idk

Is also the type to be scared of touching you in front of others until you explicitly tell him that it's okay

Acts of Service

Loves doing the chores for you

“Hey, baby, I'm gonna fill my water bottle. Do you need me to fill yours?”

Or even a, “hey i borrowed your car, but i filled the tank before bringing it back” we love a man who can afford to fill a vehicle’s tank at this point in time

Likes to bring you lunch once or twice a week --- he’ll make it himself and pack it in a cute little bag and everything

Helps you in little ways like folding the laundry or helping you pick out outfits on those days that you struggle to do anything

Is always there for you when literally anything happens. You need someone to help fix your car? He’s on the phone finding a shop. You can’t reach a high shelf or your back hurts too much to bend down to get something from a low cupboard? He’s right there ready to help

Gift Giving

I touched on this a tiny bit earlier but !! handmade jewelry omg he would make matching bracelets for y’all or even a necklace or earrings for you if bracelets interfere with your job

Always buys little trinkets that remind him of you or your relationship

“Hey I found this little glass rose decoration and it reminded me of the time i got you flowers when i asked you out the first time”

HE WILL ALWAYS HAVE THE CUTE SHY SMILE WHEN HE GIVES YOU SOMETHING TOO as if you’ll ever tell him that you dislike something he got for you

He would also love if you gave him gifts too like, “hey joshy I got this little container that can help you keep your beads organized” and he’s melt into a puddle of goo onto your living room floor

Also gets something for you (usually your favorite snack or drink) when you’re especially sad or stressed out - like a super gift instead of his regular daily gifts or something

Idk just know he’s really sweet and enjoys crafting

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fooled-around-and-fell · 1 year

Note

Hi, could I request Joel Miller and reader fighting A LOT, and then reader saves his life by risking her own, but Joel thought it was so reckless and started scolding her. And then she just shut him up with a kiss and IT WORKED. And now he doesn't know what to do.

Love your work!

a/n: of course! hope you enjoy this 🖤 i may have changed the part where he doesn't know what to do lol

Warnings: cursing, kissing, making out, suggestive.

Masterlist

"That's 1 for me, and none for you." Joel smirks, watching as you kick your clicker aside.

The bet was 'who could kill a clicker first'. Winner gets... well, the title of a winner. You and Joel are just very competitive individuals, who for some reason need to prove yourself to the other person.

Normal people would call it flirting, but you and Joel curse out whoever dare accuse you of such heinous acts.

"God.. get a room." Tommy mutters.

"Shut up, Tommy." You glare.

Maria chuckles, leading the group back to the base. "Why do you always push their buttons?"

Tommy shrugs. "They look cute flustered like that. Look, Joel won't even know how to talk to her now."

It's true. Every time someone says something along the lines of "y'all look good together", Joel does not know how to act. Yes, he curses them out, but then gets quiet with you.

"So," Joel mutters. "Wanna wrap this up and grab a beer?"

You get on your horse. "Are you buying?"

"I make my own beer."

"Gah, no thanks then." You say, though you know damn well that you'll take that beer in a heartbeat.

He rolls his eyes. "You're impossible."

A smirk makes its way up to your lips when you see another abandoned cabin nearby. "Tell you what Joel, let's go for another round. Cabin at your 10."

"Yeah?" Joel looks at the cabin. "Are we bettin' for something real this time?"

"How 'bout you bet for a date?" Tommy chimes.

"Shut up, Tommy." Joel glares at his brother.

Maria chuckles at Tommy's little jabs towards the oblivious couple. "We're going to checkout that cabin tomorrow anyway, so go knock yourselves out. But be careful, it's getting dark out."

You raise your eyebrow at Joel, who looks doubtful.

"Scared you're gonna lose, Miller?"

Joel scoffs. "Careful there, sweetheart. You don't wanna tease me."

You and Joel take a turn towards the cabin, Tommy and Maria riding ahead. The cabin seems to be in pretty good shape, no sign of clickers. Until of course, you spot the ominous amount of blood seeping through the back door.

"That amount of blood," you whisper to Joel, "Gotta be a big animal. Maybe a horse."

"Or just a shit ton of humans." Joel adds.

As if things can't get worse.

And it does.

The sun's setting, but you can hear the sound of a clicker inside. You're sure it's just the one. You and Joel both agree that you should finish this quickly. Usually, a more silent approach is preferred, but since there's only one clicker, it can't hurt, right?

Joel kicks the door open and you make your way inside. The clicker's already running towards you, but with quick work, Joel shoots it down like nothing.

"That was easy." You comment.

"Too easy." Joel frowns. "Looks like it's two-nil, sweetheart."

You're about to roll your eyes when you catch a stalker unlatch itself from the wall and about to attack.

"Joel, watch out!"

You push Joel aside and let yourself get pushed down by it. Your arm is preventing it from getting close to you, and you shoot it dead. Joel kicks the stalker away from you and help you up.

"Fuck." He checks for any bite marks. "Tell me you didn't get bit. Or a-any scratches-"

"I'm fine, Joel-"

He checks again, and sighs in relief once he found nothing. "Why on earth would you do that?"

You frown. Still in shock, but Joel's comment shocks you more. "I just saved your life."

"No one asked you to." He quips. "You could've died- worse, it could've bit you."

"Yeah, it could've bit you, Joel." You say. "That's why I stopped it."

"You were reckless." Joel scolds.

You scoff. "You know what, let's just head back. I'm done having this conversation with you."

You try to stand up, only to almost fall. It seems like you've sprained your ankle when you taking the fall. Hoping Joel didn't notice, you slowly make your way to your horse.

But of course Joel notices.

"What's wrong with you?"

You glare at him, "I said, I don't want to-"

"No, what's wrong?" He frowns. "You're limping."

"..It's just a sprained ankle." You mutter.

And despite Joel's lack of hearing in his right ear, he picks that up perfectly clear. He hops off his horse and helps you get on yours before tying your lead to his.

He doesn't say anything else for the rest of the ride back home.

Once you've arrived at the stables, Joel picks you up and gets you down from your horse before you can do it yourself. The only problem is that he's not putting you down.

"Joel, I can walk by myself."

"The hell you can." He mutters.

You sigh. "Put me down, Joel."

"Can you quit fussin' around?" He frowns. "You're heavy."

You look at him in disbelief. "Put me down right now. No one asked you to carry me."

He fully ignores you. Once he's sure that the horses are good, he leaves with you in his arms, back to his place. All the while, you're still demanding him to put you down.

"Joel, honestly." You sigh again. "People are staring."

"You'd rather walk to your house with that sprained ankle?" He questions, "I know you're in pain."

"It's barely a sprained ankle." Lies.

"Probably just sore." More lies.

Joel sets you down on his couch and goes to get an ice pack. You took this chance to stand up and make your way towards the door - which, obviously, with your sprained ankle, you can't do very fast.

"Jesus Christ," Joel sighs. "Can you just sit down??"

You huff and sit back down. There's no winning against Joel now.

Joel kneels in front of you and takes off your boot. He examines your ankle and sighs. You won't be able to walk properly for the next 4 to 6 weeks.

You're in severe pain, but you're not about to let Joel know. You can see that your ankle is badly swollen, and when Joel tries to move it, you hiss in pain.

"You really shouldn't have been so reckless."

"Joel, please-"

"No, cause what if you'd gotten bit?" He looks at you. "I'd need to-" He doesn't even want to think of what he'd have to do.

"It's just a sprained ankle, Joel." You tell him. "I'm fine. I can handle it. I've been doing this just as long as you have."

He shakes his head. His face is all kinds of worry. Despite being so sour and sassy all the time, Joel actually has a soft heart. It's what draws you to him. He's very caring, he just hides it.

"All, I'm sayin' is, next time, just let me handle it, alright?" He says.

"Ugh, Joel-"

"No," He interrupts you. "I don't want to hear it. You keep doing this and I keep worryin' about you-" he rambles on and presses the ice pack on your ankle.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow!" You wince.

"See? This is why you-"

"Oh good God, just stop." You grab his face and kiss him before he can lecture you further.

Joel drops the ice pack and his hands find the back of your neck. Your legs spread and he places himself between them, pulling you closer to him.

There's a need of exploration and urgency. You don't even think about taking a breath because you don't want this to end.

"Joel." You moan softly when he pushes his tongue. His hands softly squeezes your waist and the other inching closer to your inner thigh.

You try to take charge, but Joel's having none of it. His hand travels up to your neck and gives it a gentle squeeze, reminding you who's in control. He smirks when a gasp escapes you.

You might've started this, but Joel is definitely winning.

"Too much for you, sweetheart?"

You're both left breathless. Touching Joel again feels electrifying, yet somehow the world surrounding you feels like a blur. It's making your head spin, and you want more.

Joel chuckles at your state and presses the ice pack on your ankle again. You moan out in pain, resting your head on his shoulder.

He smirks and whispers in your ear, "Save your moans, babygirl. You're gonna be doing a lot of that tonight."

a/n: I hate that I can't write smut :(

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x female oc #joel miller tlou #tlou #pedro pascal #the last of us #tlou joel #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal tlou #joel x reader #joel miller fic

811 notes · View notes

thecapodomme · 2 months

Text

THE MUSE 🎨🖌️

Paired Up: DOM! Trevante Rhodes As Zyair Malloy x SUB! Black Fem/Plus size Reader!

Background Music/ Song Inspired by @kittehkwrites

Word Count: 4,390 (Yikes, but not counting the lyrics)

WARNINGS: Mature Audiences: 18+, Minors DNI -(HEAVY Daddy kink, BDSM, SMUT, SMUT, MORE SMUT! PROFANITY!, Established Relationship, , Some use of AAVE, The N word, light Bondage, Breeding kink, Tease and Denial, Wax play ,Choking, Grabbing, Hair Pulling, spanking, Praise, Smacking of the face ,Fingering (F), unprotected sex , A BIT OF A LONG READ, Some grammatical errors because IDK WTF i'm doing! (Capo say sike..Right now. lol But Im deadass) ... and all over Nastiness. Did I miss anything?

DISCLAIMERS:

-DO NOT COPY OR REPOST MY WORK.

-DO NOT TRAIN AI WITH MY WORK.

Synopsis: In the glitzy world of art and indulgence, Zyair and Y/N reign as the epitome of a power couple, their magnetic connection sizzling with untamed desire. Their love story ignites from the ashes of Zyair's artistic stagnation, sparked by the fateful encounter at a decadent sex party. From that moment, their lives intertwine, fueled by passion and creativity, leaving behind a trail of whispered rumors and envious glances.

As their anniversary dawns, Zyair prepares for his long-awaited art show, his first since meeting Y/N. Yet, his thoughts stray not to the gallery's pristine walls but to the allure of his beloved, whose presence electrifies every inch of his being. The clock ticks away as Zyair's anticipation grows, his yearning for Y/N eclipsing all other distractions as he finally comes home.

But time slips away in the tender embrace of their love, their passion threatening to consume them whole. As the hours blur into a haze of whispered promises and heated caresses, Zyair and Y/N find themselves ensnared in each other's arms, oblivious to the outside world. They are late for the grand affair, yet in the realm of their intimacy, time holds no dominion.

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @notapradagurl7 @henneseyhoe @browngirldominion @melaninpov @hwadam-stories @spaceslutsworld @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @skvrpion @westside-rot @tvchi @kittehkwrites @kindofaintrovert @lostgalaxies

A/N: first off ... I'M RUSTY OK. Also I'm a bit upset because my older brother was like "who writes fan fics anymore they're so passé." 🥹 I said am I not a writer? Did I not get a journalism degree? Did my teachers not push me to do this and saw something? He didn't have anything to say back. But anyway! Is this self indulgent? YES. Are you still going to enjoy it? YES! BRAIN ROT....? YEAH IM GLITCHIN'! Be easy this is my first Fan fic/Smut I'm nervous. I love yall! It's real nasty because... I want him to do this to all of us! Do you hear me?! Slight delay because I was transfixed with the dialogue. I was really trying to get the essence of Zyair. If this gets positive feedback There may be a Prologue, a part 2 , and a part 3 if y'all feelin' this! Like, comment, reblog.... if your heart so desires! 🫶🏽

It's been four years since Zyair's trial, and it was his first art show since then. Mea was long gone and probably still with her pinhead ass husband, and to think he really wanted to like her. He was breathing new life into his art, his name was cleared, and he was getting into his first real relationship. He found his ONE.

Touring London and France during the summer months. His nights were long, and his days were short. You missed him whenever you hung up from talking with him all night or if he sent you a cute text. You knew he was premiering his new pieces from home tonight, and anything was possible with you on his arm.

Daddy: I'll be home later than usual. The show starts soon. Be dressed, be ready, and wear those heels I like. I'll come to collect you. You've been such a good girl. I can't wait to see you! This tour has been hectic.

You: Yes, Sir! I miss you more. Come home to me. ❤️🥺

Daddy: That's my Big Girl. I'm on the way.

You gently placed your phone beside the claw foot bathtub on the vanity chair you'd drug over. The plush afghan carpet ruffled as you moved it to where you wanted it. The master bathroom on the first floor was spacious yet cozy.

An open shower in the back is made of dark marble and granite, and Zyair's closet is off to the left, surrounded by suits, ties, and his wardrobe. Although the loft was Gargantuan, unlike most places in Chicago, it had a makeshift industrial vibe that made it mysterious enough, you thought to yourself.

'It really needs a woman's touch.'

Drums and soft piano flooded your ears from the huge vinyl and Bluetooth sound system; you rifled through Zyairs' music collection all day. It was impressive, spanning from 70s soul to 90s R&B, which was very prized to his heart and his favorite genre. As you prepare to get ready as instructed by the love of your life, it always helps soothe your soul and set the mood for a night in the city.

You peeled out of your I murdered my husband's robes, Pinned up your waist-length Goddess locs, and began to run a bubble bath. Candles illuminated the floor, glinting your umber skin into the floor-length mirror beside the vanity.

You carefully sluiced a toe into the roaring torrent to test its temperature. With a satisfied grin, you plunged into its warmth and shut off the water; the suds were cloud-like and steamy, clinging to every part of you, and the scent of damask roses filled the air. Toni's contralto caressed you.

Whoa-oh, whoa-oh Oh-oh oh-ooh Whoa-oh, whoa-oh Oh-oh oh-ooh Baby...

Relaxation couldn't even begin to explain the euphoria encircling you. You've bagged the hottest artist in Chicago, are engaged to be married, and have much to look forward to as you start life with Zyair.

You hum along with the song as you grab your pink African exfoliating net, scrubbing from top to bottom. Occasionally, you slump your hand out to hold your phone in case he calls, or any texts from his art assistant flash across your dimly lit iPhone 15.

Head Bopping along to the beat and your legs kicking water onto the floor as you half danced in the tub. You were so bewitched by your daydreaming and bathtub concert that you couldn't hear a pin drop.

Arriving into the lot and slowly turning the corner, shined chrome and black wheels approached the entrance and parked, with a thud from the door to the Range Rover, where his driver let him off.

Since you been gone I been hanging 'round here lately With my mind messed up

Zyair stepped out of the vehicle in all black as usual; A pin stripped, short sleeved, button down shirt, noir wife beater, Prada slacks, and matching boots.

He quickly approaches the gate to the elevator, which was now broken. He shook his head in annoyance, and a frown curled at his lips when he realized. "Always on some bullshit," he scoffed.

A flick of his wrist, he checked the time. The gold bracelet draped on his wrist, twinkling in the light from the cars going in and out. He began descending up the inside stairwell to the third floor toward the loft.

With solid traces, he rose from the staircase. Slowly, he closed the exit door, hoping you didn't hear it squeaking to lock. Crossing the downstairs living room floor, he passed leather chairs, scattered and unfinished art pieces, and an acrylic-adorned curtain. He crept behind the curtain and into the room.

Jumped in my car Tried to clear my mind, didn't help me I guess I'm all messed up now, baby

His gait was slow yet boisterous. His hand behind his back, and he bounced a little with one foot pointed firmly in front of the other, walking straight and tall. His presence was always known in a room. He held a box of two dozen long-stem roses and a rounded, substantially sized jewelry box.

---

Meanwhile, you'd already gotten out of the tub as the first verse goes into the chorus. The Whirl of the water rushing out of the tub feels loud against the empty room. You check your messages once more and check the time yourself: 8:30 p.m.

As soon as I jumped into my ride Those memories start to play, yeah A song comes on, on the radio And there you are, baby Once again!

Rubbing your body in Fenty butta drop lotion for an unforgivable glow, you look into the long-length mirror to the side of your makeshift vanity.

You pull on your raven-colored thigh-high stockings, bra, and Lacey panties with the corseted back, putting your talons into your mouth as you turn and take in yourself. The finishing touch is a generous dab of merlot lipstick and a flick or two of eyeliner and mascara after setting your foundation.

Nodding as if to say, 'Im that bitch.' You slipped on your coveted Dior patent calfskin sling backs, carefully lifting each foot to get each one on. Admiring your supple breasts, hips, and bountiful assets. From all angles.

It's just another sad love song Racking my brain like crazy Guess I'm all torn up And be it fast or slow It doesn't let go Or shake me And it's all because of you...Hoo!

Zyair's panther-like proximity took you by surprise. He cocked his head to the side while taking in the sight of you setting down his gifts for you on the counter of the bathroom.

You didn't hear him stride up behind you. His hands gliding up your hips, and his luscious beard cuddling into the crook of your neck. Taking in your scent and his full lips, kissing your clavicle.

It made your heart palpitate. You felt his hands snake up past your bra as you relaxed into his embrace, letting your tensions melt into him. That familiar cologne of sandalwood and pimento that you adored wafted into your nasal cavities as his hand gripped your neck ever so gently but slightly, applying pressure.

"You look incredible, Y/N. Stay just like this." Zyair says in his full-bodied baritone, sounding like heaven to you after so long. Nibbling your ear into his mouth with a playful bite.

He was watching you in the mirror, hunched over you a bit as he towered above because of how short you were compared to his six-foot stature, hugging you to his manhood.

Your ass pressed against his inky slacks. You turned around out of his grip and held his high cheekbones into your manicured, blood-red nails, Sucking his bottom lip into your mouth as he gripped and massaged your ass from above, making you stand on your tip toes and your breasts heaving into his Adonis-like abdomen.

Since you been gone I keep thinkin' about you, baby It gets me all choked up This heart of mine keeps dreamin' of you And it's crazy, babe

"I missed you. You were gone all month. I thought we'd never have alone time."You sighed into his parted lips, trailing butterfly kisses from the pronounced girth of his neck down to his Aureate-colored chains that sat right on his sternum.

Zyair respired, and his massive pectorals flexed in unison with your smacking lips as you kissed every inch of his chest through his open-collared shirt. Looking at you in the mirror, he stopped your assault of smooches by holding your hand.

"I know I miss you when I'm gone too,Baby girl. A nigga can't stop thinkin' bout you." He gently pulled you towards him, giving you that boyish grin and a flash of those to-die-for ivories as he clasped your lower back.

His bulging frame surrounded you as he stood back with your hand in the air, making you twirl like a Princess.

Before he sat down causally onto the vanity chair and embraced you in a hug between his thighs and a gentle kiss on the forehead, he bent over to grab the things he'd laid on the counter, brandishing them before you. He gave you the rounded jewelry box first.

Sitting back, his posture was relaxed and confident to the side, and his right foot bore the weight as he man spread all alpha, chocolate, and delicious.

You'd think I'd had enough, yeah Soon as I get you out my head I'm in my car again, ooh darling Just one request from the radio I'm back in love, sugar Once again!

"Mmh, Look at you girl. "He breathed in satisfaction, looking as if he could eat you right then and there. His tongue glides over his bottom lip, and his eyes darken with lust. You giggled and rubbed his thigh as you looked into his face.

You squealed with excitement and vigorously shook the box, dancing in place. "What is it!?" touching it to your ear as if you could guess from the sound.

Zyair huffed a chuckle and looked at you, shaking his head. "You goofy lil' mama." he stroked his hand down his beard while looking at you.

Once you were done playing the guessing game, you unwrapped the thing like it was Christmas and you were the luckiest girl on the planet.

Wrapping paper, bows, and cards with the company name on them flew up in the air and scattered onto the bathroom floor. You got to the gilded piece.

It's just another sad love song Racking my brain like crazy Guess I'm all torn up And be it fast or slow It doesn't let go Or shake me

"You like it, Baby?" Zyair cooed, his voice deepening.

"Baby, I don't need this. I have so much alr- "He stopped you before you finished.

"Nah... nah... this is totally different. Unique even. You've earn't it, haven't you? "He says with a slight Louisiana drawl, his shoulders moving as he laughed.

"Y—You're going to collar me, Daddy? "You flung your hands around his thick neck and embraced him. Your eyes watered from his compassionate actions.

"You're the only one I think about and want to be with. I said why the hell not? " He smiled and played with your hair, twirling it between his nimble fingers.

Zyair took the collar from your hands, holding it carefully in the box. He took out the skinny key and unlocked the seamless hinge to open it. You stood in front of him, back turned toward him so that he could put it around your neck.

His hands gently placed the jewelry around your neck and shut it closed using the same key. Tracing it with his finger and mouthing "Mine" while you both look in the mirror.

You looked into his dark eyes with love, facing him as he leaned in to lick your lips and kiss you.

His fingertips turned white as he gripped onto your curvaceous hips, picked you up, and set you atop the stand-alone double sink vanity. You pull him into you by his belt loop and wrap your thighs around his muscular waist.

And it's all because of you It's just another sad love song Racking my brain like crazy (Like crazy, babe) Guess I'm all torn up And be it fast or slow It doesn't let go Or shake me (Whoa, baby)

The both of you all tongues and slobber each other down until you feel his long fingers curling under the silky crotch of the fabric of your lingerie.

You felt the sting of his teeth latch under your jaw as he bites into your neck. You hiss in want.

"Ahh, Zyair..." You breathe into his neck, rubbing down his back.

"Take this shit off. You ain't gonna need it."

He growled as you heard the sharp rip and crack of the cloth coming away as he tugged them off of your body.

His hands fondle and squeeze you until he finds your clit; your body bows from his encircling rhythm as he massages your nub with the fingertips of his index and middle fingers.

The cold from his ring on that finger makes you tense up and sigh. He licked from head to toe with his enormous tongue covering you.

He stops suddenly at your waist. You whine and squirm, but he's holding your arms above your head and looking straight into your eyes.

He licks his lips and winks at you, curling them in that bad boy fashion as he unbuckles his pants achingly slow with one hand, standing up slowly.

You watch, sitting straight up as he holds you, watching him pull pleasure from your inner depths against with your back against the tile of the wall.

His dick threatened to poke you through his Black and Gold PSD briefs. He moaned as he pressed against you. You moaned and purred back at him.

Here come the strings Then somebody sings Only takes a beat And then it starts killin' me, darling Only takes one note, I tell ya From that radio It's just another lonely love song

"Let me take it out, Daddy... please..." you said through gritted teeth, never breaking eye contact. Your breath hitched in your throat and went dry from his persistent teasing.

"Beg for it, and don't waste no time." He looks down at his growing and tenting hard-on, bites his lip, and raises his brow at you, looking back at you with the same taunting look.

You looked confused and in need as you ached for him. Smirking and pressing his lips to your ear as you struggled.

"Use your words. Or we're going to be late."

You begin to break into a cold sweat as droplets appear on your forehead. Trying to comprehend how to get out of this predicament, you slowly open your mouth to say something.

Still, by that time, Zyair was already bringing you down to your knees and grabbing your Goddess locs while ordering you to keep your hands behind your back.

He didn't hesitate as he stood over you, his slacks and boxers down his muscular physique. All you could do was look up at him, mouth drooling at the sight of him.

"Gon' come over here and Suck me," he said mercilessly in a dangerous tone. His voice echoed through the bathroom and made your chest vibrate. You did what you were told.

The way he only emphasized SUCK with feeling made your lower limbs thump with elation. You were already dripping but tried to hold out.

Your breathing increased with each moment that you realized you weren't filled up with his dick. Veiny, beautiful, and thick. You lick your lips in anticipation.

"Mmh, that's my BIG GIRL. What you gonna do with it?" His moans send you shock waves as he insists on teasing you. You use both hands to wrap them around his thick member not sure if it's a rhetorical question or if he was using it as a mind fuck.

Damn.

Zyair snaps your head back against the marble of the vanity. "I can't hear you, Bitch. "He snarls. "I asked you a question."

You squeal at the force and nearly yell from your tummy. " What Daddy told me to!!!!"

He chuckles that deep, devilish laugh again as he releases your hair. Your breathing becomes even more ragged, and you shudder at the sound.

Before he's even done, he grabs the back of your head and forces his hard length deep into your throat. The mere shock causes you to sputter and choke.

With no room to run or breathe, he fucked into it, fisting your hair, making you bend over on all fours as he leaned down over you, smacking your ass precisely on your cheek, leaving it fiery, making it ache and jiggle, gripping your supple flesh as he went to trace a finger down your drenched slit at the same time. He moans, watching the recoil.

You gently swayed your hips from side to side as he played in your wetness, not wanting him to stop as you tried to keep up the pace. He was enjoying being sadistic with you, but it was a first that he hadn't been gentle before.

"Take it all, Mama. Don't stop."

Sucking in a sharp breath at your failed attempts to come up for air.

Coaching you as you did so, using your hair like a lever, tugging at it to make you go deeper and deeper by the inch.

Your legs automatically closed onto his wrist as he sucked his fingers and dipped a few inside you, your essence pooling around your opening.

He dipped his middle finger, then the second finger, taking his sweet time alternating. Making you writhe below him. Soaked and needy was the name of the game.

He twisted and pumped his fingers inside, leaving you leaking around them.

You glucked and gagged on his dick and hissed as he inscribed you just enough to make you whine.

Your gurgling and moans echoed throughout the bathroom, and he wouldn't let up. Looking down at you, biting his lip in pure bliss.

"That's it...Just. Like. That." eliciting a low moan from his lips. You looked into his eyes as your eyeliner smeared down your face from the tears. Making it hard for you to see.

The constant smacking, gagging, and slurping made you close your eyes tight.

The twinkling flames of the candles melting onto the floor and his chiseled face coming in and out as you tried to stay alert. The noises turned you on more than the act. Until you felt a welting smack to the face.

"Look at me. I don't want you focusing on nothin' else." his breath shuddered, and he kept up the same pace until he got tired.

You whimpered from the sudden flush of pain. But kept going, your hands still behind your back. His strokes became less frequent as he slowly slid his dick out of your mouth to the tip.

He was done using your mouth for now. Removing his fingers from your pussy, sucking them clean like he hadn't eaten in days, and cupping a hand under your chin as he stood up at his full height, looking intensely into your eyes like he'd never seen you before.

A soft kiss to your mouth, and You popped him out with a plopping noise and began to jerk and stroke him. A chain of spit latched from your crimson lips to his thick manhood.

"Hold that thought, Princess." He smiled as he walked to the other side of the bathroom. You watched, still in the same position he left you, as he gathered up a slow-burning candle from the floor.

Walking back over to you, he tested the temperature on his inner arm. Nodding and pleased with the degree, he approached you.

"Down." He commanded gruffly.

You used your hands to lower yourself onto the floor on your stomach and breathed in nervously as Zyair stood above your head.

Looking up, he looked even more Godly as you viewed his body from this view below.

You settle, and he crouches beginning to pour some wax onto the middle of your back.

You groan in pain, but as the sting settles into a numbing puddle, your senses begin to awaken.

Some beads down into your ass cheek. He waits to pour more onto the back of your neck and shoulders. You flinch with each interaction.

"Mmmh... " You softly moan; you fidget with anticipation of the next drip.

"You Aight Pretty? " He asks.

"Oh, that feels so good. Daddy," your eyes closed, and your mouth slung open.

"It's been a minute." He says with amusement. "I knew you'd like it."

He pours two more burning spots onto your ass cheeks, stands, and blows the candle out, placing it onto the vanity.

Turning his head so as not to blow any ash or soot into your face, and gently pulls you up.

He sat you back into the plush red and gold vanity chair, his lips meeting yours once more, kissing you down your body, and His tongue engraving tiny circles over your neck and down your breasts. slipping off your bra down your shoulders. You trembled from his touch.

His hands cupping one after the other, his skilled tongue lapping and suckling onto each as he goes from one to the other. You groaned as he bit down and tugged with his front teeth.

"Mmh... Fuck.." you shuddered and gasped at him playing with your body in this way.

Suddenly he lifts you up into the air and parts your legs, holding your weight onto his broad shoulders, suckling and licking your clit into his mouth and greedily scooping his tongue over your soaked folds.

Shoving his tongue in between, you yelped from the sudden waves of pleasure hitting you, and just when it started to get good. He denies you yet again.

Sitting you back down in the chair, he pauses as he lifts each leg and purposely slings your thighs over his shoulders.

Anchoring you by holding the chair, leaving wet kisses down your ankles, and spreading your inner thighs to give them some love, too.

Your eyes closed again, and you rubbed the back of his burst fade as you yearned for him to be inside you.

Reaching out to touch his stomach, his dick poking that triangle made between your legs. You subconsciously thought about shoving his dick inside you. But knew better than to try him.

"Oh fuck baby... Please." You tried to stop him from toying with you, but he only glared at you.

"Please, what? PLEASE WHO?" He asked with a flair of arrogance, tipping your chin up.

" ooouuue.. Daddy..." You whispered.

"Yeah, Be a good girl, Y/N, and be still fo' me." With fervor, he lined himself up at your entrance, stroking himself a bit, holding your head from above to make you watch him slide into you.

"Sssss.... Fuck I missed this pussy, and I missed you so much." He entered you tip first. Forcing himself out and plunging in again profoundly, making your head go back.

"Z-ZYAIR!" you cried out in response to his torture.

Repeatedly dipping himself into you again and again… he was halfway in and hadn't even begun to bottom out this time.

He wrapped his large hand around your neck, and both of you groaned in unison. as he made one swift pump into your creamy nectar.

"Mhm, You feel allat baby? "He coaxed.

You grimaced and blurted out, "Fuck, just fuck me....!" you said, almost screaming. You couldn't take much more as you needed him like water.

smugly looking into your soul he swooped up the chair with you in it, and your body went limp as he slammed into you, filling you up like never before. Leaning into you just enough at an easy tilt that was nothing for him.

The man pressed 350 pounds or more, and this was light work. Your walls clenched down in unison with his pounding strokes, your calves flailing out from over his inner elbows but holding you in place just the same while he kept you right where he wanted you by the seat.

A gut-wrenching moan came from the depths of your stomach as you held onto his shoulders; you leaned into him, the chair leaving the floor as he powerfully thrust into you at the same time.

"You so fuckin' pretty like this." He grunted and praised you as all life had left your body, and nothing was left but the room spinning. You gave way to him, and moans started to escape you.

"Yes, Daddy. Fuck! Daddy! YES," You pleaded and panted in pleasure as he bounced into you non-stop. Through hooded eyes, he watched you getting so close.

Zyair being the pleasure Dom he was is paying attention to how your body heaved and pulsated around him. He slowed, pounded, and roughly used his hips to kiss your cervix as he continued to try to break into your walls.

With calculated potency, he taunted you as you pushed him away, scratching at his abs.

"Na, this is what you wanted, right? Take it," He whispers.

hitting your hands away with one hand. He bucked his hips, going upwards and faster by the second.

In a swift motion he's putting you down on the floor in the chair as your body convulsed in complete surrender.

Your juices gushing in a splash of release. He grunted as your walls cradled his length, still deftly stroking into you, But he wasn't done with you yet.

Zyair moved you from the chair and bent you over in front of him while clutching your neck, his fingers curling on your throat. Dog walking you around the bathroom while pinning your ass to his hips.

He kisses your cheek lovingly as your moans echo throughout the room.

"This shit is mine, Hm?" He asked.

"FUC- FUCK!..."

Your gaze followed Zyair's as you looked back and moved around the bathroom.

You mewed and tried to hold onto anything your hands could find. Rough, long, and hard thrusts make your thighs quake with ecstasy.

You felt his hard abs and balls hit against your clit as he dug into you. His hands squeezing yours comforted you yet made you weak for him as he took control once more.

The squelching and wetness from you only fueled him as he tried to fuck the shit out of you.

"Look atchu creamin' all down my dick and enjoyin' this shit, little girl."

Your eyes fluttered as his words did something to you. You saw stars behind your eyes as you felt wobbly and tense. Your orgasm growing near.

You found the wall to hold yourself up with, looking out into the living room, your claws digging marks into his palm as you grunted.

He chased you with his own release by going harder, pounding, swiveling his hips, and moving his hand to the back of your head, keeping your makeup-stained cheek pressed against the cool cement of the wall.

"SAY IT! " He hummed in your ear.

"ZYAIR! " You came instantly.

You screamed as you squirted all over the floor of the bathroom, making it hard for both of you to stand. Inaudible cursing and degrading remarks flew from his mouth as he nodded in gratification.

You felt warmth rush over you as he sprayed your walls with his seed. He purposely fucked it into you as you tried to squirm away. Removed his hand from your face to open your ass and watch as he made you take all of his kids.

His strokes slowed as the last of your leaking subsided. Both sigh in relief, Holding you by your hips and kissing over your neck as if he couldn't breathe without you. He smiles, holding you against the wall.

"I guess we're late ain't we." He laughs through a smile, his eyes crinkled at the ends as he looks at you.

"Aht, Aht! Fashionably." You taunted.

"You've been in my collection again?" He says with amusement.

"AND WHAT ABOUT IT!? " you rolled your neck in a comical attitude.

"I told you what that does to me, girl. You know nothing about that. My momma gave me those albums. "

"Let's shower before we miss our anniversary party".

With a hard smack on your ass as he grabs towels from the hooks on the walls running playfully after you, your laughing excitedly getting a head start as the last notes of the song come to a staccato.

So sad So sad, so sad (Sad, darling) So sad, sad love song Ooh, I heard it on the radio last night So sad So sad, so sad (Sad, baby) So sad, sad love song (Ooh) You got me singin' another love song all night, darling...

P/C: If you'd like to be added to my Tag list just say so it's MAD OPEN! i'll be glad to add you. I really do hope ya'll enjoyed it. Lord knows I had a time writing it for ya'll!

Special Shout out and a thank you to: @megamindsecretlair @notapradagurl7 @melaninpov @browngirldominion @nahimjustfeelingit-writes For bullying me..... (Nah just kiddin!) For making me see this through. all inspirational to me and incredible moots!

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