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wheneverfeasible · 5 months ago

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Bullshit (part 3/3)

Third and final part of my angsty Steddie “Bullshit” story where Steve changes himself to try to keep Eddie’s love. I swear the happy ending is finally here everyone! Please put the pitchforks and torches away!

I hope it lives up to expectations and thank you everyone for showing such a keen interest in my story. This final part is LONG and dialogue heavy but hey, at least you finally get the fluff.

Part 1 || Part 2

It had been two weeks.

Which, sure, wasn’t the longest they’d gone without seeing each other before due to their lives being hectic, but it had been the longest they’d gone without even so much as a quick goodnight phone call since they finally got together. Steve’s hand had hovered over the phone every night, wanting to call Eddie and apologize and promise to do better, but he was too much of a coward.

Because, you see, as long as they weren’t talking, Steve could still pretend that they were together. He knew though that the moment his resolve crumbled and he called Eddie, or Eddie finally had enough and called him, that it would be over. Eddie would officially break up with him and this time Steve didn’t know how he was going to pick up the pieces.

He loved too much, too quickly, too earnestly. But it was never enough. It was always just bullshit and he didn’t know how to stop it from being bullshit. The first time he hadn’t taken Nancy’s own needs into account, had been too caught up in his own trauma to realize that she needed more than just to pretend that nothing had happened and move on from what couldn’t be changed.

Neither had been in the wrong, of course, both dealing with trauma and guilt in their own way, but in the end they had simply been too incompatible. He hadn’t been what she needed and she hadn’t been what he needed. They couldn’t change that, not even back when that spark between them still burned in an ember. But who they were simply couldn’t change to be what the other needed, or deserved.

So then he tried to change, for Eddie. Once Eddie and he got together, it was obvious they were too different. Their friends had commented on it enough, and then when Steve changed to be worthy of Eddie, they commented on that too. But Steve was fine with changing. He loved Eddie enough to become what would make Eddie happy. He’d do anything to make Eddie happy.

Except he failed. He failed and now he had gone two weeks without speaking to his boyfriend who probably hated him now.

Their friends wouldn’t tell him anything either, not that he really wanted them to know of his failure. Only Robin knew because she had been the first person he had called when Eddie had ran away from him when it became obvious Steve wasn’t good enough.

Robin, who had threatened to make Eddie’s balls into earrings, had muttered about how she’d always known he was trouble, but Steve also remembered how happy Robin had been when she discovered she wasn’t alone. She and Eddie had gotten on like a house on fire, bickering like they’d been siblings all along, and it had been so nice to have both his soulmates so close to him and each other.

He couldn’t let Robin hate Eddie because of Steve’s own failings. So he talked to her, told her it was fine, told her not to hate Eddie just because Steve couldn’t be what he wanted, though that only seemed to make Robin worse.

Until a few days ago.

She had suddenly returned with a smile on her face, and though she seemed impatient at times, she had at least stopped threatening bodily harm towards Eddie. She stopped bringing Eddie up entirely, actually, though she looked like she wanted to say something more than once.

Normally, Steve would have pried it out of her. It would have been easy too. A flash of wide eyes, downturned lips, tilted head, a soft whine to her name, and she’d be spilling state secrets to him…though he already knew all the state secrets that she knew. But she couldn’t hide from her soulmate. Ever since that first bathroom confessional, they were never very good at keeping secrets from each other.

Steve was too tired for that now. He just wanted Eddie. But Eddie didn’t want him.

Because he was bullshit.

Steve was curled on his couch, Dio blasting from the music system, the fancy new CD player rotating the shiny disc over and over again on repeat. Eddie had said he preferred vinyls, so Steve tried to only listen to vinyls when he was around, but Steve enjoyed the way he could set the new CD technology on repeat without having to get up. It let him wallow for longer.

Robin had been by earlier, though she seemed jumpier than normal, constantly looking at her watch. She’d finally jumped out of Steve’s bed they were lounging in and said she had to go about an hour ago, stuttering excuses and refusing to meet his eyes.

He wondered if Robin was beginning to realize he was bullshit too.

He couldn’t blame her. They didn’t really have much in common either. It was only trauma bonding that tied them together, or at least that’s what she had called it a few nights after everything to do with Starcourt, when she’d biked all the way to Loch Nora and pounded on the door until a bewildered Steve had answered.

She’d thrown her arms around Steve then, and he’d realized she’d been crying, and she kept whispering over and over “you’re safe you’re safe you’re safe you’re safe” as though she needed to reassure herself. Steve had at first thought she was talking about herself, but then he realized she was talking about him.

That particular realization had been electrifying. No one had ever really checked up on him before. But apparently Robin had been unable to sleep, plagued by nightmares of what the Russians had done to Steve, plagued by the what-if’s of Steve not making it out of the underground bunker. It was the first night they slept in the same bed together, but it wasn’t the last.

She’d told him that they were trauma bonded, them and the rest of the group, that no matter how different they were, they would always have each other’s back. That was also the first night she’d called him her soulmate though, making certain he knew she meant it Platonic with a capital ‘P’ and nothing else. Steve realized that it didn’t make it any less important.

But maybe that had been a lie too.

Maybe Robin was beginning to realize that they were too different. That Steve would never be good enough for anyone. Not good enough for his family, not good enough for Dustin, not good enough for Nancy, not good enough for Eddie, and not good enough for Robin. Always wanting, always worthless. Always bullshit.

It was during this spiral that a very polite, though loud, knocking came from the front door. He supposed they had to be loud to be heard over the sounds of Dio, which he had cranked up to try to drown out the thoughts in his head.

Steve rubbed at his eyes, which felt crusty from dried tears, sitting up from where he had collapsed after showing Robin out the door. He’d think that it was Robin returning for something she forgot, a regular occurrence, but she rarely knocked anymore. She typically just let herself in with the spare key he’d given her. He’d given one to Eddie too.

Pushing thoughts of his maybe-still-his-boyfriend away as he hit pause on the music, Steve shuffled towards the front door. He gave a brief tug of his Iron Maiden shirt, which was actually one of Eddie’s, to attempt to make his rumpled appearance look a little more presentable, and then he was swinging the door open to reveal…

Eddie???

Except…it wasn’t an Eddie he recognized. No, this Eddie was wearing an orchid pink polo and light khakis, and…were those Oxford shoes he was wearing?? With a matching belt??? His hair was smoothed fully back and clasped into a professional looking bun and not a single ring adorned his fingers, made obvious by the way Eddie held up a bouquet of roses. Even the ever present pick necklace from absent from Eddie’s neck.

Steve gaped.

“Hello, Steve,” Eddie said, even his voice seemed softer, less wild, and his smile was the sort Steve had seen his father’s business associates give to each other when a good deal had gone through. Happy, pleased, but restrained. Nothing like the manic grins he was used to from Eddie.

“E-Eddie?” he croaked out, absolutely in disbelief. Behind Eddie, Steve could see a station wagon parked where Eddie’s van should be. “What’s going on?”

Eddie held the flowers out towards Steve, who automatically took them. He couldn’t help but give a bemused smile even as he brought them up to smell. Eddie took a deep breath, indicating the foyer with a small motion of his hand.

“Sorry, but may we talk inside?”

This strangely polite version of Eddie was making Steve feel weirdly uncomfortable, so used to the exuberance that normally surrounded the other man. He took a step back, however, because it was Eddie. He could feel his heart beating wildly in his chest at seeing Eddie again, even if he looked different.

Steve closed the door behind Eddie after the other man stepped forward, though not before wiping his shoes off on the doormat, which Steve could not recall Eddie ever doing before. He felt like he had somehow fallen into an alternate dimension, and not of the Upside Down variety. Maybe that would have been better; he knew how to handle that kind.

“Um…let me put these in water?” Steve said, though it sounded more like a question, at a loss for what was happening right now.

“Of course, sweetheart. Do you mind if I put on the game?”

Sweetheart.

Steve felt a hopeful flutter in his chest and gut at the use of an endearment. Sure, Eddie was no stranger to using such terms in retaliation to bullies or anyone else he disliked, but that was not the tone Eddie used just now. No, he used the tone he always used with Steve, making Steve hopeful towards the idea that he hadn’t actually ruined everything yet.

He was so caught up with that fact that it took him a moment to process the second part of what Eddie said. “Uh…yeah, sure?” he answered with a question again, brows furrowing, as he wondered if he had somehow forgotten that he was supposed to host Eddie’s campaign night that night.

He hurried quickly to the kitchen to find something to put the flowers in, suddenly worried about how his home looked. He hadn’t been expecting to host Dungeons and Dragons, didn’t have the snacking station set up or anything. Did he have enough beverages? Who all was coming tonight? He felt his hosting anxiety start climbing at these questions, as well as the worry that this was a test.

If he failed tonight, would Eddie finally be done with him?

Steve was just settling the vase full of roses on the counter when he heard…was that…?

“Oh come on, Coach! Take him out!” Eddie’s voice filtered through to him as Steve slowly made his way towards the living room. “That asshole is making Gochnaur look like a capable shortstop!”

Was Eddie…watching baseball?

Did Eddie know about John Gochnaur?

What was happening right now?

Steve stood in the doorway leading into the living room, watching with a completely gobsmacked expression as, yes, Eddie was currently watching baseball and giving correct commentary. Steve hadn’t even known Eddie knew what a shortstop did.

Eddie glanced over at Steve and his annoyed expression smoothed into one of happiness. He pat the couch next to him invitingly and Steve could do nothing but walk forward and take his place at Eddie’s side. His furrowed brows shot up into his hairline when Eddie pulled him closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulder as he started rattling off statistics of the players on screen like he did monsters during his DnD campaigns as he indicated the probability of home runs and errors.

“What the hell is going on right now?” he mumbled mostly to himself. This was…this was weird. He wasn’t sure he liked this. No, he knew he didn’t like this. Whatever this was, it felt wrong. He turned his head to frown at Eddie who still looked caught up in the game. In sports.

“Eddie, what…” Steve shook his head slightly, wetting his lips. “Why are you watching baseball? Why are you wearing those clothes? You just left the other days and now you look like a completely different person. What is going on?”

Eddie glanced over at Steve, his own brows high into his bangs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Steve. I’m wearing perfectly normal clothing. And sure, it’s only baseball, but it’s not like it’s basketball season yet.”

Eddie paused then, his expression settling into a neutral look for only a moment before slowly morphing to one of pained regret. He sight and hung his head for a moment before grabbing the remote and muting the screen. He then released Steve just enough to turn slightly on the couch to better face him.

“I’m sorry for leaving though, baby. There’s no excuse for just running out on you like that. I didn’t want to hurt you, I just…I had a lot on my mind and I needed to figure some things out. But don’t worry, Stevie. I have it all figured out now and now I can be an even better boyfriend to you,” he finished with a wide grin that looked nothing like his typical crazed charming smile. It looked more like the grins he used to make before he felt comfortable around Steve and the others.

Charming, yes, but not right. Not Eddie.

But Eddie was leaning forwards, brushing one of the limp pieces of his hair that he hadn’t even bothered to style these past two weeks—hell, had barely had the energy to even wash—back behind his ear. He then pressed forward to lightly kiss the tip of Steve’s nose with a smile, and Steve could only smile back. Eddie was here, with him, and that was all that mattered.

Except…

Except.

Eddie’s pink polo was still in his line of vision. It was Eddie, but it wasn’t Eddie at the same time. He looked nothing like the metalhead he loved. Not that there was anything wrong with what he wore now, of course, and honestly seeing Eddie in a polo was kind of hot, but…it wasn’t him.

Steve pulled back, his smile turning back into a small frown. His eyes tracked over Eddie’s outfit. Sure, Eddie looked nice in it, but it was incredibly wrong. The khakis even looked pressed. “But seriously, Eddie, what the hell are you wearing?”

Eddie looked down at his own clothing with a look of not understanding before looking back up at Steve. “I honestly don’t know what you mean. I’m wearing clothing. A shirt and pants I’ve even got underwear on underneath. Though I can wear a lot less of it if you prefer, baby,” he added in that sultry voice that never failed to get Steve going. He’d once accidentally slipped into it while DMing when he narrated a succubus type NPC and Steve had popped a boner right then and there at the table.

And Steve’s dick made a valiant effort to respond now actually, but everything was wrong and Steve didn’t like that. He continued frowning at Eddie.

“Why are you wearing a polo?” he asked more directly, because he knew from experience with Dustin and Robin and even Eddie himself that sometimes you just have to ask directly if you wanted a proper answer. And seriously. A polo?? “Where are your regular clothes. And why are you watching baseball?”

“I like baseball,” Eddie replied easily with a shrug. “It’s not as bad as I thought. I like that the players can have their little music intro. And I wear polos now, they’re surprisingly comfortable.” He gave Steve a gentle smile. “If you don’t want to watch baseball, we can do something else. You wanna put on some music? Have you heard Debbie Gibson’s new song? Truly heartbreaking. I bet it’s on the radio right now.”

Steve just gaped. It was like Eddie was speaking an alien language even though he knew that all that was English and he understood each word separately. All together though, coming from Eddie’s mouth? Yeah, nothing made sense.

“Eddie,” he breathed, slowly reaching out for Eddie’s left hand and feeling another swoop of wrongness at the lack of rings there. “When you said you wanted to put on the game, I thought you meant a campaign. And Debbie Gibson? Babe, you’re in a metal band. Debbie Gibson isn’t cool.”

“Hey! You treat Deb with respect. Girl’s got an excellent voice,” Eddie said with indignation. Steve could only roll his eyes because yeah, he knew that, but Eddie saying something like that? Unreal. It was Eddie’s next words that made him freeze solid, however.

“Besides, I quit the band. Dungeons and Dragons too. Figured I’m too old for that nerd shit. I’m thinking about getting a real job now anyways, so I don’t have time for all that anymore. Actually, do you want to go through the classifieds together with me later? Gareth said he’d try to get me an in with his dad’s company, but it’s better to be prepared.”

Eddie quit the band? Quit Dungeons and Dragons? Was talking about a corporate job? What. The. Fuck.

Steve scrambled up from the couch, his fingers moving up to squeeze the bridge of his nose before both hands settled on his hips as he stared at Eddie in disbelief. “You love Corroded Coffin. And Dungeons and Dragons! Why the hell would you stop doing something you love?”

Something flashed across Eddie’s expression then, something pleased like Steve had said exactly what Eddie had hoped he would, but it was gone the very next instant leaving Eddie simply staring up Steve with wide and imploring eyes.

“But Steve,” he said, and his tone was too earnest that it made Steve pause. “I love you more, and you don’t like those things. So I’ll change, for you.”

The words were like a bucket of ice water thrown back in his face. He couldn’t move, couldn’t react. Couldn’t resist when Eddie reached out and grasped his hand to pull him back to the couch he’d just vacated, pulling him against his side once more.

“You changed for me, so now I’ll change for you,” Eddie said like the solution was obvious. Steve mutely shook his head, but Eddie’s smile was toothy and sharp and so much like the smile he was used to that he couldn’t speak. Which was just as well, since Eddie wasn’t done. “You changed who you were because you loved me so much and didn’t want to lose me. Is it so preposterous to imagine that I love you so much that I’m willing to do the same?”

Yes! Steve wanted to exclaim, wanted to shout and shake Eddie, because of course Eddie didn’t love Steve the same way that Steve loved Eddie; no one ever did.

Well, except maybe Robin. They were Platonic soulmates after all. He knew that he had started doubting her earlier, which made him a little nauseous to do actually, but she had been the only one so far who had never abandoned him. Who seemingly cared for him the same way he cared for her.

But to think he could possibly be blessed with someone who loved him, romantically, that same way? To think that he might be lucky enough to have that sort of fabled love twice? Impossible! Because…because he knew. He knew he wasn’t good enough. He wouldn’t ever be good enough. He didn’t deserve it. He wasn’t a good person. He wasn’t—

“Do you know why I love you, Stevie?” Eddie murmured, cutting off Steve’s thoughts and causing him to stiffen beside him. It wasn’t like he was unused to these declarations; Eddie never really shied away from telling Steve he loved him, though Steve had to fight back the inane temptation to make a bitchy little joke about it like he’d had before, teasingly crediting his ass or how pretty he looked on his knees. Eddie had given them as reasons enough for his love when they’d joked around before, just as Steven had teasingly cited his love as being because of how skilled Eddie’s fingers were, or the talent of his mouth.

He could sense, however, that trying to trivialize the moment would not go well this time. No, Eddie was looking at him earnestly once more, was reaching out again for Steve’s hand to hold and clutch between both of his against his chest. He thankfully did not seem like he was expecting an answer from Steve.

“It’s because you thought about my safety first, back then, at Skull Rock, even after I’d shoved a broken bottle at your neck. Even though we ran in two totally different circles, you immediately put me as a priority. It’s because you didn’t hesitate to jump into the water, not in belittlement of Wheeler and Buckley for being girls, or me for being…well, me…but simply because you were aware of your own qualifications and knew you were best for the job.

“It’s because, at the first real opportunity of being relatively alone with me, you immediately thanked me for coming to help you after you’d been pulled under, like there had been any other option. As if it wasn’t a given that you deserved to be made a priority too.”

Eddie paused then, thickly swallowed as his eyes closed momentarily. “Though you totally saved your own ass there, tearing that bitch apart with your bare hands. You’re a total badass, sweetheart,” he rumbled, the heat of hungry appreciation in his voice. “Wrapped up in soft yellow sweaters and ridiculously styled hair.”

Opening his eyes to look at Steve again, Steve could see some of that (still surprising) hunger lingering. Because yeah, he knew now that Eddie had near creamed his pants when he’d pulled an Ozzy with the demobat, and even though he questioned his boyfriend’s tastes at time, he was also always so gleeful to know that Eddie thought him sexy as hell.

But it was more than just that, and Steve felt his heart hammering away beneath his ribcage as Eddie kept going on, singing his praises as if Steve was truly something to be admired.

“It’s because,” Eddie continued saying, bringing Steve’s hand up to lightly nuzzle against his knuckles, “you always put everyone else first, even if you hide it behind your bitchy little snide words. Because you care about everyone else and would throw yourself directly into the path of danger to protect them. Protect us. And more than that, you take care of everyone around you, whether they show their gratitude or not. Dustin wasn’t wrong when he talked about how great you are.

“It’s because…” Eddie drew in another shuddering breath, his eyes wide and deep with emotion. “It’s because, when you look at me, you see me, not just another trailer trash failure who couldn’t even properly graduate high school. You see someone worth loving.”

“Eddie,” Steve broke in then with a cracked voice, his guilt unable to keep him quiet. “You were right about me, though. I was a douchebag. Even about you I was an asshole until everything went down. I called you a freak, and I didn’t try hard enough to stop Tommy from attacking you or the others, and I only cared about myself back then. I’m not the person you think I am.”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie said with a shake of his head. “I won’t deny past dickishness, but I’m not so innocent either,” he pointed out. “I held my own prejudices, my own selfishness. I ostracized Lucas for daring to like sports, I nearly abandoned my bandmates the first time I thought I could make it solo, and I continually ran away when things got tough or hard, try as hard as I did to pretend otherwise.”

Eddie released Steve’s hand from one of his own so that he could snake it behind Steve’s neck to pull him in for a gentle kiss. Steve melted into it, terrified Eddie would eventually leave him still, while also taking great comfort in the kiss. It wasn’t a goodbye kiss, that much he was certain.

“You love with your whole heart, Stevie,” Eddie whispered when he finally pulled away. “I will never be able to apologize enough for taking advantage of that, for not realizing what was going on.” He dropped his gaze to the Iron Maiden shirt Steve was wearing, sliding his hand from Steve’s neck to his chest. “The fact that I ever made you feel like you weren’t enough exactly as you are will always haunt me.”

Steve didn��t want Eddie sad. He didn’t want Eddie to blame himself for Steve not being enough. He couldn’t get the words out though, not when Eddie looked so utterly heartbroken.

“I’m so sorry, baby. And I’m so sorry for leaving. I just…I realized what I did to you and I couldn’t…I couldn’t…”

Steve was horrified by the tears that began flooding Eddie’s eyes, causing him to reach out with his own freed hand pull Eddie in by his polo for another kiss. He didn’t understand what was going on, but…but…

Was Eddie truly not upset with him?

“Christ, baby,” Eddie murmured against his lips. “I love you in your polos. I love you listening to your own music in the car, the way your hair flops about as you jam out to Queen and Wham! and even Cydni fucking Lauper. I love how passionate you get about sports, the way you fuss over Henderson and the others, the way you call out other people’s shit. I love all of you, not in spite of you.”

Eddie pulled back to look properly at Steve, and this time it was Steve with tears brimming in his eyes. Everything Eddie said was like a revelation because the tone of Eddie’s voice, the look in Eddie’s eyes…he meant them.

“But…we’re so different,” he protested, because how was he supposed to accept that when they were nothing alike? Certainly Eddie had to have some regrets, or wish for some changes.

“Steve,” Eddie said on a near whine. “Of course we’re different. We’re different people.” He shook his head suddenly, taking a deep breath. He then reached out and caught Steve’s chin to force him to look at him, catching his eyes with his own. “Do you love me any less for being different than you?”

“No!” Steve yelled aghast. How could Eddie ever think that?

“Then why do you think I would ever love you less for the same?”

Steve opened his mouth, ready to protest again, except…except he didn’t really have an answer to that. Not beyond the fact that he would always be less than. Less than Eddie, less than the kids, less than everyone else he ever cared about.

Except…

Except.

The way Eddie was staring at him now, the way Eddie’s own pain reflected in his dark brown eyes, didn’t make Steve feel like he was lesser. Eddie had never made him feel lesser, actually. Eddie had instead made him feel like…like he mattered. Like he was something worth cherishing. Like…like he was loved.

“I…I don’t know,” Steve admitted, voice cracking, and the tears he’d been keeping at bay slowly spilled over and slid down his cheeks.

Eddie cupped his jaw with both hands then, and though his tears didn’t fall, he sniffled in a way that revealed that it was a very near thing. “I love you so much, baby. I was so ecstatic that you loved me too, that you seemed to be willing to take interest in the things I loved, that I didn’t realize I never did the same. I thought you were trying to figure out who you were, I never noticed that you stopped being you.

“I don’t want you to be just another metalhead who likes everything I like. I want you to be your own person, to like the things you like even if I don’t like them. I want to meet you in the middle of who we are, not a compromise, but as a sign of our love. I’ll take you to metal concerts and you can take me to sports games, even the ones with laundry baskets,” he gently teased. “Any of them, I don’t care. As long as I’m with you doing things you love, I’ll be happy. Because you make me happy, sweetheart.”

Steve’s eyes darted away, eyes catching on the screen where one of the players just stole a base and made themselves that much closer to winning the game, before looking back at Eddie. He didn’t see anything false in his expression, only genuine, hopeful sincerity. Like he truly meant his words.

“I’m fine doing whatever you want,” he mumbled. “You don’t need to sacrifice anything.”

“Baby,” Eddie implored. “It’s not a sacrifice to be with you. You’re so perfect for me, just like you are. Like you truly are. I fell in love with you not because of what you can give me, but because of who you are. I never thought you were actually trying to change to be who you thought I wanted you to be. Because I just want you, baby. If you still want me.”

“Of course I want you,” Steve murmured immediately, his hands moving to claps at Eddie’s forearms. “I’ll always want you.”

Eddie grinned at him, though it was still emotional. He at least managed to keep his tears at bay, blinking rapidly until there wasn’t fear of them falling anymore. He leaned in then to press a soft kiss to Steve’s forehead, his thumbs lightly stroking over Steve’s cheeks. “And I’ll always want you. Hell, baby, I’d marry you right now if it were legal.”

That got Steve’s attention.

He pulled back again, pulling Eddie’s hands from his face to stare at his boyfriend with wide eyes. Again there was only sincerity in Eddie’s gaze, and patience, as he let Steve process and work through his words. To understand just how much Eddie meant it.

Eddie loved him. He knew this of course, but…hell, they hadn’t been dating all that long, all things considered, and he’d once heard Eddie denounce marriage as just another conformist expectation used to take your individuality away, but here was Eddie saying he would marry him if given the chance. He knew Eddie wouldn’t say something like that unless he truly meant it too. Eddie loved him.

“But…we’re so different, Eddie,” he repeated in barely more than a whisper. “A-and I don’t want you to quit your band or Dungeons and Dragons or anything like that for me. I don’t want you conforming for me.”

Eddie just grinned again, his expression so full of love for Steve that it made Steve almost physically ache. “And I don’t want you changing for me,” he simply said, and…and maybe Steve was starting to get that, but…

“But you were so happy when I started listening to metal, and not all of it is bad,” Steve admitted. “I actually liked some of it. More than I thought I would.”

“I was happy,” Eddie admitted right back, letting out a soft sigh. “I was happy to share something with you, happy to help you develop your interest since I thought it was something you wanted. I didn’t mean to push it on you. I was just…I thought that if we had a shared interest like that, you wouldn’t decide I was too much. When you started dressing like this…”

Eddie moved to lightly tug at the hem of Steve’s shirt. “I had been so terrified that you would realize you could do better than someone like me,” he whispered. “Having you not be put off by the way I dressed, by the music I liked, by anything I liked made me happy because it calmed my fears that I’d scare you off or something, that you’d move on to greener and better pastures.”

And that was just not right. Better than Eddie? Someone like that simply didn’t exist. And all because Eddie liked a certain kind of music, or dressed a certain way? Absolutely not.

“Eddie,” Steve breathed, and this time it was him reaching out to cup Eddie’s cheek to make him look at him properly again. “You’re so amazing, Eddie. How in the world could someone better than you exist? You’re a fucking hero, man. And don’t say you’re not,” he said firmly when Eddie opened his mouth to say just that, like he always did when it got brought up. “You are. You’re brave and selfless and literally out your life in the line to protect others. You’re badass, baby. Just like me,” he grinned in tease.

Eddie softly snorted, placing his hand over Steve’s on his cheek so he could hold it as he turned his head slightly to kiss the palm. “You are a badass,” Eddie agreed. “And you’re sweet too, even though you deny that too. I love you so much, and I should have paid more attention to why you were suddenly into all the same things I was instead of just being happy to share them with you.”

Eddie squeezed Steve’s hand, placing another soft kiss to his palm before trailing his lips into gentle kisses against his fingertips. “And I should have done more to meet you halfway. I should have been doing this from the start,” he admitted, indicating the muted TV. “You were always willing to join my hobbies but I never even offered to join yours. I’m truly very sorry, baby.”

“Please stop apologizing,” Steve complained. “I forgive you, okay? It’s just…you’re…” Steve swallowed, making himself actually stop and consider Eddie’s words, their meaning, their truth. “I’d love you even if you always hated sports,” he said softly, a small light of understanding settling over him. Because if he could love Eddie without needing Eddie to like everything he liked…

“Then can’t I love you even if you hate the things I like?” Eddie murmured, as if finishing his thought for him. “I don’t need you to be a carbon copy of my interests, baby. I love you for you, Steve. I’ve missed your polos and your preppy look,” he grinned. “It’s hot.”

Steve flushed slightly at that, Eddie’s eyes telling him again just how truthful those words were. He hadn’t ever once considered that Eddie actually liked that part of him, not when Eddie always wore dark clothing and looked the way he did. They were so different…

His eyes moved once more over Eddie, taking in that ridiculously pink polo and khaki pants, so unlike the things Eddie would wear but so similar to something Steve would. And…yeah, okay, that was hot, but he didn’t want Eddie to wear it all the time because it just wasn’t him. If Eddie wanted to then of course he’d never say anything about it, but he would miss the way his metalhead usually looked. Like…the way Steve looked now, while Eddie…Eddie looked like how he would have normally dressed.

Because Eddie said he would change for Steve, would give up the things he loved, just to keep Steve happy. But Steve didn’t need that to be happy. He was happy just to have Eddie, exactly the way he was, without Eddie pretending to be something he wasn’t. He didn’t want Eddie to change for him, even though…yeah he would like to be able to share his own interests with Eddie sometimes. And maybe…

Maybe, if Eddie had started dressing like that gradually, started expressing interest in Steve’s hobbies slowly, he wouldn’t notice how much Eddie had been changing to try to fit in with him. Maybe he would have just assumed Eddie was genuinely branching out his own interests because he felt safe enough to do so without being ridiculed, like…like Steve had slowly done.

But Eddie had appeared so drastically changed that Steve couldn’t help but rebel against it, couldn’t help but clock it as wrong, could only see it for what it was:

Bullshit.

Steve grinned suddenly at that revelation. A bright happiness began filling him until he felt like he was full of fizzy soda and Pop Rocks. He realized that it was bullshit, but he wasn’t. What was bullshit wasn’t his love, or his inability to be exactly like Eddie, but the fact that he tried to be someone he wasn’t. Him trying to change who he was was bullshit. Because Eddie?

Eddie loved him anyways. Eddie loved him even if he was an ex-jock prep who cared about his appearance maybe a little too much, who cared about keeping his home and car clean, who listened to popular catchy music on the radio simply because it was fun. Eddie had fallen in love with Steve because of who he was, not who he could change himself into becoming.

Eddie loved him. And love like that could never be bullshit.

When Steve finally looked Eddie in the eyes again, truly looked and saw and heard everything Eddie had been trying to tell him, he felt tears escape down his cheeks again but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Because he got it now. He understood. Eddie hadn’t wanted him to change, he had just been supporting Steve in what he thought Steve wanted.

“I’m such an idiot,” Steve wetly laughed, throwing his arms around Eddie to bury his face in Eddie’s neck.

“Hey now, don’t insult my husband like that,” Eddie admonished, but his words sounded wet too as his own arms moved to wrap around Steve’s back and hold him close.

“We’re not married yet, asshole. You didn’t even ask me,” he pointed out with a giddy roll of his eyes.

“Right, right, silly me,” Eddie said, and Steve could hear the grin in his voice. “Guess I better go buy a ring first. And ask Buckley for her blessing.” Eddie drew in a shaky breath before huffing it out in a laugh. “Maybe she’ll let me keep my balls now.”

Steve pulled back with a confused furrow to his brows. He hadn’t told Eddie that his balls were in any danger.

When Eddie caught his expression, Eddie rolled his eyes next. “After I left, I spent probably a week trying to process everything, trying to figure out where I went wrong and horrified with myself for unknowingly encouraging you into changing for me, going over every little thing I fucked up. Then Buckley showed up and read me the fucking riot act.” He shuddered. “She’s terrifying.”

“I told her not to do that,” Steve frowned, though his lips twitched at his boyfriend’s dramatics. Christ, he loved him so much. And Eddie, somehow, apparently loved him just as much.

“Well I’m glad she did,” Eddie said with a small chuckle and shake of his head. “We came up with all this together,” he added with an indication of his clothing and the TV. “She heard my side of things and realized that if there’s an idiot in our relationship, it’s me. And then we came up with this plan to show you why I’d never want you to be someone you weren’t. Figured if I showed up completely changed too, you’d realize why it wasn’t what I wanted.”

Anxiety hit Steve suddenly and he stared at Eddie with wide eyes. “Wait, you didn’t actually quit the band, did you? Eddie!”

“No, no, not really.” Eddie paused. “Mostly.” He gave a little wincing smile at Steve’s fierce glare. “I told them what I was going to do, as well as saying that I may end up actually quitting if that’s what you needed of me. Because I meant it, Stevie,” he added with his own fierceness. “I love you more than I love being in the band or anything else. You’re it for me, hot stuff.”

“You are an idiot,” Steve groaned, and he didn’t know if he should be upset with Eddie, relieved, or insanely happy. He somehow felt all three at once, giving Eddie’s arm a small slap. “But I am absolutely determined to have a hot and talented famous rockstar boyfriend, Munson, so you better not quit. Or I’m dumping your ass for Jeff,” he said with a wicked little grin.

“Betrayal!” Eddie gasped, his hand moving to clutch at his shirt over his heart, falling back against the couch cushions dramatically.

Steve merely rolled his eyes again, though he couldn’t keep the deliriously happy smile off his face because this was his boyfriend. This dramatic, goofy, absolute loser of a man. He was so fucking lucky.

“And that station wagon out front?” he asked, eyebrow arching.

“Borrowed,” Eddie grinned, propping himself up with an elbow to look at Steve. “Jeff’s mom’s. Really had to make it authentic, ya know?”

“And the baseball knowledge?”

Eddie laughed at that. “Wayne gave me some pointers. I think he was ecstatic to finally be able to talk to me about sports knowing I would listen. He also says we’re all watching the season finale together.”

Steve just rolled his eyes. “It’s called the World Series, asshole.”

“Kind of pretentious to call it that, don’tcha think, seeing as how it’s only America playing?”

Letting out a huff, Steve crawled over Eddie to look down at him, straddling a thigh as both his brows raised high over his forehead. “You’re ridiculous, I hope you know that. But…” Steve’s expression softened into a small, almost shy smile. “Thank you. For loving me.”

Eddie smiled back up at Steve, settling back against the couch cushions and bringing his arms up to lightly hook over his shoulders and crossing them behind Steve’s neck. “Thank you for letting me,” he replied simply. “Now, will you please go back to my preppy sexy boyfriend who listens to ABBA and complains about bad hair days? I miss him dreadfully.”

Steve felt his happiness bubbling up inside him again, grinning down at Eddie before leaning in to take his lips in a giddy kiss. “Maybe you should take your Iron Maiden shirt back then, right now,” he murmured meaningfully against Eddie’s lips.

Eddie grinned beneath him. “Fuck yeah,” he breathed. “And get this pink monstrosity off too.”

Steve pulled back at that, planting his hand flat on Eddie’s chest to stop him from moving to do just that, causing Eddie to still beneath him. Steve slid his gaze over said pink monstrosity, wetting his lips with darkening eyes.

“No,” he murmured, voice roughened as he slid his gaze back up to Eddie’s widening eyes, a soft pink flush entering pale cheeks. “Keep it on.”

And he did.

At least until it was too ruined to be saved. But they could always buy Eddie another polo later.

Steve’s insecurities weren’t magically gone from one conversation, of course, but it proved to be a great start. There were still moments when Steve felt like he wasn’t good enough, but it helped to know that Eddie felt the same way at times too, that they were both so in love and would do anything for the other person.

After that day, the two worked together to find a new middle ground. Steve still supported Corroded Coffin at all their shows, wearing their shirts and other merch frequently, and even kept his studded leather bracelet that matched Eddie’s own. He went back to wearing his polos in his day-to-day life, however, and styling his hair with near ridiculous amounts of hairspray.

They talked about their hobbies, with Eddie making a mix tape of the metal songs that Steve actually ended up liking, and Eddie even found enjoyment in playing the occasional game of ball with Steve and even Lucas and the others sometimes joined in. (Sure, he mostly liked the way Steve looked all sweaty and flushed with exertion, but he had some genuine fun shooting balls into “laundry baskets” all the same too.)

They made compromises in the movies they watched, the foods they ate, and Steve took on a more passive role during DnD nights. His character decided to strike out on his own, in story, though he would occasionally rejoin the adventurers when their paths crossed, allowing Steve to play when he felt in the mood and sit out when he wasn’t. Steve had even cajoled Nancy into rejoining the game with him sometimes, much to the Party’s (especially Dustin’s) delight.

Eddie never really took to polos for regular wear, though he did wear the occasional Henley and Steve had convinced Eddie to take better care of his hair, helping his boyfriend set up a couple different routines based on the time frame he had to work with before events or daily life, earning numerous compliments on the healthy curls he now regularly sported. Steve loved the mornings where they got to primp together, and even Eddie flushed with happiness when they caught each other’s eyes in the mirror or helped each other fluff their hair.

Eddie also summoned the Party and acted like a drill sergeant as he commanded each of them to give Steve’s car a deep cleaning and detailing, shampooing and vacuuming and waxing the inside and outside until the BMW gleamed like practically new. He also helped enforce the rules about leaving no mess behind, either by forbidding open food containers or by picking up after themselves. Steve was so impressed by it that he couldn’t help dirtying the car a little again by taking Eddie into the backseat after everything.

They took down the posters and flyers and random crap that covered Steve’s walls, though Steve kept up the Black Sabbath and Dio posters, even if he made Eddie straighten them up. He also kept up the Corroded Coffin flag Eddie had made him, though he began adding his own decorations as well through encouragement from Eddie. Eddie even got him a banner for his favorite sports team, hanging it up right next to the Corroded Coffin flag. (Later, when Steve eventually moved out of his parents’ abandoned house, Eddie would cut a swatch of the wallpaper from the wall, framing the bit of plaid for Steve to carrying with them to their eventual shared home.)

Robin was a menace, of course, and continually made passing comments about needing earrings. The threat was not lost on Eddie and he always made certain he showered Steve in praise and confirmed his love for him whenever Robin gave him the stink eye. Steve may or may not sometimes signal when he wanted the threat made, especially around important dates like holidays and anniversaries.

And Eddie did make good on his comment about asking Robin’s permission for a certain question, though in his nervousness and excitement he fumbled actually asking Steve for forever and instead accidentally threw the ring at Steve one night after a dinner he’d tried to make but inevitably burned. They ordered take out and laughed about it, then Steve made certain Eddie never had to doubt his ‘yes’ right there in the kitchen. And living room. And bedroom. And then for good measure in the shower.

Steve always remained a prep, and Eddie always remained a metalhead, but over the years they slowly adopted and adapted bits and pieces of each other’s style, though Eddie couldn’t ever wear a polo to tease Steve without Steve immediately dragging him into bed. Or to the nearest flat surface.

There were days that the insecurities would crop up still, of course, for both of them. These days grew less over the years, the commitment Steve and Eddie felt for each other reflected in the matching rings they wore, exchanged during a small ceremony that, though not legal in the eyes of the law, was no less absolute in their hearts.

Because Steve knew now what those insecurities were, what the voice was that whispered that he would never be good enough for anyone, and he knew what to say when they tried to tear him down. And he would smile when he said it, safe, content, and secure in his and Eddie’s love.

“Bullshit.”

As I said before, I am tagging everyone who asked to be tagged, so if I’ve accidentally missed you or tagged the wrong person, I apologize. It’s a lot of people. Heh.

Tagged: @derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump @gobbledy-gluk-gluk @petalsandpixels @coolgirldad @xxbottlecapx @yesdangerpls @lawrencebshoggoth @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @miss-wright

@brainsteddielyrotted @nerdyglassescheeseychick @ohimamarigold @sofadofax @moss-g0blin @secretly-kait @blossomingblueberries @my-love-of-books @blounette @p0lybl4nkk

@sapphicsforsteve @wearespacedust @mae-liz @stripey82 @tinyplanet95 @0mochiia0 @sunnycycle @jaytriesstrangerthings @hotluncheddie @dragonmama76

@stevieschrodinger @townseleven @estrellami-1 @evillittleguy @novacorpsrecruit @mugloversonly @imaginary-maggie-waggie @pointlessmosswitch @fatiguedclown @prazinos

@thedragonsaunt @bookworm0690 @brazenliar @samsoble @wrenisflying @queenie-ofthe-void @breealtair @highqueenhalalie @steddieassheg0es @theintrovertedintrovert

(rest of tags will be in a reblog, did not realize how many I had agreed to lol my bad)

#fic: bullshit #fix it #angst with a happy ending #steddie angst #steddie h/c #steddie fluff #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #platonic stobin #stranger things #plot thots

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long-live-astronerd-ghost-king · 8 months ago

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DPXDC prompt. Dead on main. Someone who knows you better than you know yourself.

Perhaps Fentons are not able to recognize their child, despite the fact that they hunt him day after day. But for childhood friends, who saw each other in absolutely ridiculous situations that parents are never allowed to know about, just one sneeze and a bored sigh is enough to realize that this weirdo fighting next to him is the same guy with whom you tasted soap and then stood looking at each other from different corners and giggling.

And so, the dialogue after the battle with the creatures of Infinite Realms, to which Constantine had to invite a potential ally not yet approved by the League:

Phantom: Well, mom always said you were bad news...But a crime lord, seriously? What happened to your plans to become a literature teacher? Red Hood: Hey! For Gotham, this is a very high-paying in-demand job. And I don't want to hear anything from Casper. At least I have my own business. What kind of part-time job do you have? Are you selling sheets to your buddies from this green goo? Phantom: This is ectoplasm. And they're not my friends, and anyway… Constantine: King Phantom, do you know Red Hood? Phantom: Do I know him? Ha! This street rat was Splinter of my beginnings until my family moved out of Gotham.

Red Hood: Wait, wait a minute. Phah...Holy shit. I thought I was the best example of what it means to be a disappointment to a family, but you beat me here. Oh, man, only you...The ghost king who is the son of the ghost hunters? Seriously? Hahah! I thought your rebellious phase ended the moment you told your father that you wanted to be an astronaut and not inherit the family business.

Danny*groans and covers his face with his hands*: My life is over.

Red Hood: Literally~ No, of course I always knew that your parents' disregard for safety in the laboratory would someday kill someone, but I didn't really expect this? Like, wow… Phantom: What makes you think it was an incident in the lab? I mean, there are so many possibilities around. It's ridiculous and…hah Red Hood: Dude, look me straight in the face and tell me I'm wrong if you dare. Phantom:…Fuck you, stupid bookworm. Red Hood: Stubborn nerd. Phantom: Red bucket! Red Hood: Pale toadstool! Nightwing: Um, can you guys please stop fighting? Red Hood: What are you talking about? This is how we always communicate. Phantom: Yeah! Well, in our defense, my sister always thought we both could use a therapist. Oh, man, he made me lose my train of thought. Where were we, J? Red Hood: Since when are you able to think? And I complimented your new hair and skin color. Phantom: Right, right… But, hey, not all of my parents' hypotheses really have a right to exist, and you know it! Hm, did I mention that you're built like a fridge and how does this leather jacket suit you? Red Hood: I believe not. And who's talking about your parents' work? You were an airhead when you were alive too to be honest. And as I see it, not much has changed. Why the hell are you still starting a fight with puns? Stop telling your opponent your position. This is terribly stupid! Phantom: Oh, please, these ghosts are definitely not a threat to me. What's wrong with having a little fun? The fact that you don't have weapons to handle something stronger than a blob ghost is your problem not mine, loser. But let's get back to our greetings. Red Hood: Sure. Then listen here…

~~~~~

Nightwing: Jay, why didn't you say right away that you knew Phantom? We've wasted so much time wondering if it's worth summoning him, and you just stood there and said nothing. Red Hood: Pfff…Because I didn't know that until today. He used to be human. And we haven't seen each other for a long time. So how was I to know that he would take such a ridiculous pseudonym? Nightwing: Then why the hell didn't you feel worried about teasing this creature? Red Hood: Why should I? It's just Danny.

~~~~

Tucker: Oh man, 84 murders, attempts to kill Joker and to much fights with Batman and Black Mask and… Danny: Yeah, yeah. It's all very interesting, but it's not what I asked you to find. Get to the point, Tucker. What I will wear to our dinner tonight depends on this. Tucker: Seriously? As far as I'm concerned, whether he's single or not is less important than all this shit. Aren't you afraid to show up at his house? Danny: I'm invited. And for that matter, I'm Amity Park's former public enemy number one. Which one of us should be worried, hah? So he's not dating anyone, right? Don't try to distract me. Tucker: Dude! Danny: Ugh, in my experience, when he acts like he's lost his mind, he usually has good reasons for it. And if not, given some of the events of my alternative future, I have no right to judge him, so…

#dpxdc #dpxdc prompts #dpxdc crossover #dpxdc prompt #dcxdp #dead on main #dead on main ship #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt

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prythianpages · 1 year ago

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A Field of Dandelions | Azriel

azriel x green witch reader | Your High Lady calls upon you. requesting a remedy that only you know how to make. It requires specific ingredients found between the courts of spring and autumn and you're in need of an escort. Unfortunately for you, she assigns her Shadowsinger to accompany you. The Shadowsinger who hates you...or so you thought.

“Please don’t talk to me like that.”

“Why?”

“It’s cruel and heartless and you don’t even realize.”

warnings: angst but with fluff at the end, mentions of self-hate/abuse. pretty much Azriel thinking he's not worthy of a mate.

a/n: I've been re-reading the Shatter Me series and there's a scene between Aaron and Juliette that drove me to make this along with the song Dandelions by Ruth B. The dialogue above is directly from the book Unravel Me. I used them as a writing prompt along with the general gist of the scene and added my own twist to it. I just wanted to put that disclaimer out there.

The door opens before you can even knock and your dear friend and High Lady pulls you into a warm hug. She beckons you inside with a smile and your eyes dart around the various paintings adorning the walls, finding that some are new.

Surprise etches onto your features when your eyes land on the Night Court’s Spymaster. He stands at the end of one of the winding staircases with his usual stoic expression. Still as devastatingly handsome as always. You drop your gaze as quickly as you had met his and if he notices it, he doesn’t let it show. He doesn’t seem to acknowledge your presence.

Your ears pick up on faint crying. It grows louder and louder. Turning your head toward the source, your eyes land on Nyx. Despite being in the comfort of his father’s arms, his little features contort in pain. You greet your High Lord with a bow of your head, noticing the exhaustion on his face that mirrors Feyre’s.

“Is Mor on her way?” You ask, adjusting the strap of your bag. It’s full with all necessary tools and equipment you need for your venture.

Feyre had requested if you could make a tonic to sooth Nyx’s aches while he’s teething but your apothecary shop was unfortunately out of the main ingredient. Dandelion root. Not just any dandelion root but the ones that grow in the soil between the courts of Spring and Autumn and given the current tensions in Prythian and your status as a former Spring court inhabitant, it was not safe for you to go alone.

“Oh,” Feyre says as she takes the babe into her arms. You coo at Nyx and he blinks up at you, his crying coming to a stop. His lips tug up into a small smile and he wraps a tiny hand around your finger. “She is unfortunately caught up in Vallahan.”

“So then Cassian is to escort me today?” You ask again, looking up at your friend.

You catch the way she looks at Rhysand. They share a look and you know they’re communicating to each other through their mind. It’s Rhysand who answers you this time.

“Cassian isn’t fond of the spring, allergies and all.”

The Shadowsinger steps forward and your smile falls. You turn back to your friend, who gives you a sheepish smile in return.

“Azriel will be escorting you today.”

You almost want to say no. The thought of being alone with Azriel makes your stomach churn with unease and something else that you can’t quite discern at the moment. But Nyx begins to squirm in his mother’s arms with a pout and Feyre’s eyebrows knit in concern.

“Okay,” you sigh.

“Thank you so much for doing this,” Feyre says.

“Our son’s life is in your hands.”

Feyre slaps her husband’s arm with a roll of her eyes. “He’s not dying, Rhys,” she grumbles. “He’s just in some discomfort from teething.”

She then turns to Azriel with a stern look. The corner of her lips threatened to betray her. “Be nice.”

Azriel’s shadows envelop you both, whisking you away to the forest of the Spring Court. It was the safest of the two courts to winnow directly to. The air in the dense woods hangs heavy with the scent of blooming blossoms and you’re thankful for the muffled sounds of nature as it provides a soothing background noise, saving you from the awkward silence between you and the impassive Shadowsinger.

Azriel walks ahead, his movements graceful and quiet. His shadows cling to him like the loyal companions they are but some hover over your boots, silencing your own steps.

He finally breaks the silence. “You’re staring.”

You shift your gaze immediately and wonder if he can also sense the pink that dusts your slightly flustered face. “I’m just surprised you’re the one escorting me,” you answer honestly.

“It’s not like I had much of a choice,” he responds cryptically.

A slight tension settles between you, your heartbeat quickening as you follow him through the forest. “Right,” you say, your face growing pinker.

You shift the weight of your bag to your other shoulder and Azriel comes to a sudden stop. He turns, his hazel eyes scanning you for a moment. Without a word, he takes the bag from your arm, effortlessly hoisting it over his shoulder.

The unexpected gesture catches you off guard, and a quiet "thanks" escapes your lips. “You’re being awfully nice today,” you can’t help but observe, a mixture of surprise and curiosity in your tone “I think this is the most you’ve talked to me since we met.”

Azriel’s lips curve into an almost-smile. A rare sight that sends a flutter through your chest. “My High Lady told me to be nice.”

“Right,” you repeat quietly to yourself as you exhale, a futile effort to calm your fluttering nerves. It’s almost embarrassing the effect Azriel has on you and as the butterflies in your stomach stir, you hope that the rest of the day unfolds quickly.

Mates. Two individuals predestined to be together, brought together by unseen forces and an irresistible bond. Azriel once wondered if he had a mate but after centuries of living, he began to wonder if he was simply destined to be alone.

When his brothers found their mates and he still hadn’t found his, he started to think he was far beyond the reach of love. It was a blessing he could not have. He didn’t need a mate, so he convinced himself he didn’t want one. Romance was not part of his duties and he was starting to come to terms with the fact.

That is, until, he met you.

Nestled right on the outskirts of the area known as the Rainbow of Velaris was a quaint shop. The wooden sign above, engraved with dark letters spelling out Nightrose Apothecary, swayed gently in the cool morning breeze. Azriel had ignored the frenzied whirlwind of his shadows as he stepped into the shop.

Shelves made of twisted vines and wood were neatly arranged with rows of glass jars containing colorful powders, dried herbs and exotic roots. A friendly black cat, lounging on the sunlit windowsill, blinked at him in greeting. As he stepped further into the shop, his senses became overwhelmed with the prominent scent of lavender and chamomile.

Behind a worn, wooden counter is where you stood. You hummed to yourself, immersed in the book in front of you. He found himself unable to take his eyes off of you as you skimmed over the rough edged pages, your fingertips carrying an enchanting green glow and eyes filled with darkness.

You were a witch but it was no surprise to him. He had heard about you. You were a good friend of Feyre’s. One of the few people she could trust during her time in the Spring court. When the Spring Court fell into chaos, Feyre had brought you with her and helped you open up this shop.

His steps were silent and he’s sure you’re unaware of his presence, so he shifted, parting his mouth to speak–

“Hello, Shadowsinger.”

His steps faltered, eyes widening for a fleeting moment.

When you finally lifted your gaze to meet his, his eyes locked with yours and something deep within him awakened. An exhilarating feeling like no other. He felt light. He felt alive. And he was almost afraid to blink, not wanting the feeling to end.

His shadows peeked out from behind his limbs, curious to see what had their master in a chokehold. They dispersed from his body in a thrilled dance as the darkness left your eyes, revealing their natural color. They’re beautiful and sparkling with kindness, even as his shadows disobey his silent orders and slither up your arms in a cool greeting.

“I’m sorry,” he found himself apologizing, a slight tint in his cheeks. “They usually don’t do that.”

“It’s okay,” you brushed off his worry and he felt lightheaded and bewitched at the smile you directed toward him. “What brings you here?”

Azriel can’t help but feel that you already know why he’s there. He pulled his gaze away, choosing to focus on the crystal orbs on the counter instead. “My High Lady recommended I come to you. I’ve been having trouble…sleeping.”

The green glow returned to your fingertips as you beckoned a small clear vial from one of the shelves behind you. It’s filled with a silver liquid that glistened as it moved, mirroring the twinkle of the stars that light up the night sky.

“This should help.” You told him as you held out the vial to him. “Take a sip before you’re ready for bed and it should quickly pull you into a restful slumber. Some say it even brings forth sweet dreams.”

Azriel nodded his head, taking the small vial from you with a gloved hand. He stored it carefully into the chest pocket of his leathers. His hands then dug into the pockets of his pants but you held out a hand to stop him.

“It’s on the house.”

“But–”

“Any friend of Fey–the High Lady’s is a friend of mine.”

His throat tightened as he realized it’s time for him to leave and he doesn’t want to. He’s caught in a whirlwind of emotions and finds himself torn between hope and fear. Or maybe he fears what it means to be hopeful because for once in his life, he wants something.

He wants you. His mate.

But as he thanked you for your kind gesture, he realized that the bond must have not snapped for you as it had for him. So he reluctantly went on with his day and when the sky darkened and stars awakened, he took a sip from the small vial. He had the best sleep of his life that night and dreamt about you.

The next morning he asked Rhysand and Feyre about what he had experienced because he couldn’t believe it himself. They confirmed his suspicions and they were both delighted. Feyre even more so as you were her dear friend.

She had taken it upon herself to bring you two together. Her first attempt was a family dinner. It was going well until Elain had spotted a spider and upon the small scream she let out, Nesta had rushed to kill it for her. Your distress was impossible to turn a blind eye to and Feyre quietly asked if you were alright.

“It didn’t need to die,” is all you quietly said, your eyes lined with silver.

Witches were one with nature and given your niche with herbs and creation, Azriel realized the depth of your admiration for all life that night. Then, another harrowing one. You were so innocent, so pure. He was guilty, hands tainted and stained red. He didn’t deserve you.

The Cauldron must’ve made a mistake.

Feyre was undeterred so she gave it another attempt, despite Azriel’s protest. She arranged a night out at Rita’s for the Inner Circle and invited you. Azriel didn’t plan on going but Rhysand had made sure his schedule was clear and when Feyre had sent him an image of you in a skin tight dress, he came as quickly as he could.

But it was too late.

He arrived to find a high fae leaning toward you in interest and you were smiling at him. A smile Azriel wanted reserved just for him. The male had placed a hand at your waist and Azriel felt his stomach churn when you laughed at something he had said. A sound he wished to be the cause of. You seemed happy and who was he to stand in your way?

The male was everything Azriel was not. Blond, blue eyed and perfectly smooth hands–hands that were all over you and welcomed by you. He unconsciously hid his scarred hands behind his back and when your gaze met his across the room, he looked away.

Azriel was not worthy of you. He didn’t deserve to have you as his mate. So he reminded himself that romance was not part of his duties and convinced himself that the Cauldron, had indeed, made a mistake.

He couldn’t bear the thought of being just a friend to you. The mere idea pained him so much that he pushed you away. He didn’t return to your apothecary when he finished the vial you’d given him–not even when his nights became restless again and dark circles appeared beneath his eyes. When he’d see you walking along the streets of Velaris, he’d turn the other away and when you would visit Feyre and he was there, he’d find an excuse to leave.

But there was one thing he couldn’t shake off–the primal instinct to protect you. It was the least he could do for you as he felt indebted to you for the Cauldron’s mistake.

So when he heard you needed an escort to the border between the Spring and Autumn courts, he was the first to volunteer, despite Mor and Cassian also offering.

It’s as if the ground beneath you comes to life in your presence. Birds fly over you, chirping and singing a beautiful melody. As you pass, buds blossom into beautiful flowers as if enchanted by you. Even the animals emerge from their hidden abodes. The squirrels playfully dart between branches while a family of deer gracefully emerges from the trees.

It becomes evident that nature itself is captivated by your presence. and it extends beyond nature, weaving its magic onto Azriel as well. It reaches into the very heart of the Shadowsinger, casting an enchanting spell that even he cannot escape.

A blue butterfly dances playfully around Azriel. It startles him, pulling him out of his trance and you can’t help the small laugh that escapes from you. You raise a finger and the butterfly lands on it softly.

“Hello, little one,” you coo softly. You turn to Azriel, holding out your finger to him. “Would you like to hold it?”

“No.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Are you scared of a butterfly?”

Azriel does not answer your question. Instead, his eyes dart around the forest that still stirs with liveliness around you. “What happened to keeping a low profile?”

“Sorry,” you apologize, even though it’s not your fault. The butterfly grants you one last flutter of its wings before flying away. “I can’t help but be admired by many.”

Azriel lets out a hum. You’re too distracted to pick up on the subtle resonance of agreement, your eyes widening as the meadow finally comes into view in the distance.

You inhale deeply, flooding your senses with the sweet and delicate fragrance surrounding you. Time seems to slow and your worries dissipate away as you kneel down, gently touching the soft sea of green, white and yellow. The gentle sway of the dandelions is mesmerizing almost, their feathery plumes catching the morning breeze like wishes aching to be set free.

Azriel watches you and his eyes are a reflection of an adoration deeper than any meadow bloom. There’s a bittersweet ache in his chest. You close your eyes, a serene expression on your face. Strands of sunlight weave through your hair, creating a halo of warmth and Azriel finds it hard to breathe when your lips bloom into a tender smile.

Your eyes open and meet his hazel eyes and suddenly, he’s looking away. He clears his throat, eyes looking around the field. “What’s so special about this place?” He asks, a desperate attempt to reclaim the distance between desire and reality.

“All life is a delicate balance of give and take. Spring brings forth new life and beauty, new beginnings. Autumn leaves showers of gold, recognizing the temporary nature of all things. “ You answer as if it's common knowledge and upon the bewildered expression on Azriel’s face, you offer the simpler explanation: “The soil between Spring and Autumn is very potent.”

“These are weeds. They’ll grow anywhere.” Azriel deadpans. He regrets it immediately at the slight frown that forms at his casual dismissal.

“You may see a weed,” you begin, plucking a single dandelion from the ground as you rise to your feet. You approach the Shadowsinger. “But I see wishes.”

You extend the dandelion to him with a softness in your eyes that he’s never been on the receiving end of. “They say a single dandelion possesses the power to grant one-hundred wishes. But their beauty lies in their resilience because when they fall apart, they simply start again. A reminder to us all of boundless hope.”

Azriel hesitates, his gaze fixed on the dandelion. His gloved fingers brush against yours and for a fleeting moment, he wonders what your skin would feel like against his. The mere thought dares to send a shiver through him but he swiftly pushes the thought away.

You smile at him as he carefully accepts the stem from you. His shadows remain dispersed around the field but from where he stands, he can feel them vibrating joyfully. Your smile is so bright, so dazzling and for the first time since he met you, it’s all for him.

A sudden warmth floods through him, a sensation he never anticipated, and he finds himself utterly captivated.

“Make a wish,” you whisper to him, your voice a gentle prompt that lingers in the air like a spell waiting to be cast.

Azriel is not one to believe in things like this but he finds himself surrendering to the magic of the moment. For you.

Under the tender gaze of a field of dandelions, he closes his eyes. He lets out a silent breath, and makes a wish. A breeze courses through you both in that moment. The dandelion’s wispy seeds take flight, unraveling into a fine constellation of possibilities.

The soft bristles of hope travel through the air and find their way to you and a laugh escapes from you in response to the tickling sensation as they caress your face.

Azriel’s heart feels strangely gentle–as if the weight that often accompanies his existence has momentarily dissipated. His entire body seems to soften in the glow of your laughter and a rare smile forms on his face.

He’s stuck in a trance, mesmerized by you, failing to catch the sounds of the creatures approaching.

Before he knows it, there are arrows whistling around you both. He barely has enough time to respond as one hisses by his ear and darts to you. He immediately raises his hand up, his shadows rushing to the rescue and forming a protective shield around you both.

Your eyes are wide as you stare at the tip of an arrow that is a couple of inches away from you. It’s coated with blood. Azriel’s blood.

Your breath hitches at the sight. There's an arrow embedded into his gloved hand and if it weren’t for Azriel’s other hand at the small of your back, you would’ve fallen backwards.

“Are you alright?” His gaze is examining you carefully, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

You blink at his words. “Are you alright?”

“Well, well, well.” A voice drawls followed by deep, rumbling growls from the hounds that surround you. They’re kept at bay by Azriel’s shadows. “What do we have here?”

Azriel turns around, ready to face the threat head on. His shadows remain at your side protectively. Some slither up and down your arms, their touch aimed at offering comfort and reassurance.

“Eris.”

The red head smirks and his teeth flash when he catches the sight of the Shadowsinger’s injured and bleeding hand. “My apologies,” Eris sneers. “If I had known it was you, I would’ve aimed for the heart.”

A sound escapes from you–one you didn’t know you were capable of making and you step out from the shadows. It draws Eris’s attention to you. His amber eyes drink you in and you feel Azriel stiffen beside you. The Autumn’s male’s eyes land on the obsidian necklace around your neck and they narrow.

“What is a witch doing in my lands?” His hounds that are still surrounding let out another growl, prompted by their master’s tone of voice. They snap their teeth menacingly.

But you’re unfazed.

Perhaps, it’s Azriel’s protective shadows or the overwhelming anger set alight by Eris’s words that grant you the confidence and push you forward. Your eyes fill with darkness, resembling a night sky without any stars and Azriel can feel the energy coursing through your veins as you call upon your magic.

“Keep wasting the air with that breath of yours and I might just cur–”

A hand comes over your mouth, stopping you from saying anything else and you’re being pulled flush into Azriel’s chest. You grimace at the taste of leather and squirm only for Azriel’s arms to tighten around you.

“Cute,” Eris remarks with a hint of amusement but there’s an unmistakable fear that flashes in his eyes for a short lived moment.

“We’re just passing through,” Azriel states, his voice void of emotion.

Eris observes you both in contemplative silence. He must discern something in Azriel that prompts him to stand down. With a thoughtful hum, he gracefully turns away. His hounds follow suit and as he walks away, he calls over his shoulders: “Make it quick.”

You watch as Eris disappears into the forest, still wrapped tightly in Azriel’s arms. It isn’t until Eris is completely out of view that you squirm again and without thinking, you bite on his gloved hand. Hard. Azriel flinches and finally releases his grip on you.

You turn to him with a glare that he returns.

“Threatening to curse the heir to Autumn? Are you out of your mind?”

“I should curse you for stopping me!” You exclaim, crossing your arms with a scowl. Your gaze then softens as you quietly add: “He hurt you.”

“Gods,” Azriel breathes, stepping away from you and tilting his head backwards. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “You don’t know what you do to me.”

“You mean besides piss you off by merely existing?” You huff as you snatch your bag away from him to get the jars you brought. “Can’t imagine it gets any worse than that.”

The walk to your apartment is silent and you begin to wonder if you should apologize for your outburst earlier. It was not within your nature to raise your voice at anyone…or harbor anger toward someone. But Eris had tried to hurt you, hurt Azriel and then shamelessly sneered about it.

Azriel follows you into your home, watching as you set the ingredients you collected down. He expects you to bid him farewell and kick him out but as you turn to him and your gaze falls to his injured hand, you sigh.

“Come on,” you offer, reaching out for his hand and he recoils. You frown. “Does it hurt?”

“No.”

You know he’s lying by the way his jaw clenches and you can’t help but notice that he appears to be repelled by your touch. You almost laugh. “I promise I won’t curse you. I actually never cursed anyone before.”

Azriel’s expression remains unreadable.

“Just let me see. I can help you.”

“I’m fine.” He says through gritted teeth.

“You’re bleeding all over my floor.” You say in hopes to get him to accept your help and when it doesn’t, you cross your arms against your chest. “Do you really hate me that much? To be repulsed by my touch?”

“I don’t hate you.” Azriel confesses and his voice is much quieter, much softer when he speaks again. “I could never.”

Azriel holds your gaze in contemplation for a long moment. Out of the corner of your eyes, you can see his shadows pushing him toward you so you try again. This time, when you step forward, your hand reaching for him, he doesn’t pull away.

“Sit,” you tell him, nodding your head at one of the chairs in your kitchen.

With a hard swallow, he does. He is entirely still as you hold his gloved hand in yours. Even his shadows are eerily still as if holding their breath. His eyes are boring into you with an intensity that heats your skin. You bring your other hand up, a soft green glow emitting from your fingertips. With the help of your magic, you carefully take the arrow out, drawing a sharp gasp from him.

“Sorry,” you say, turning your attention to his glove next. You use your magic to remove it as well, not wanting to cause him any more pain or discomfort.

As the green mist of your magic dissipates, revealing the scarred skin beneath, your eyes widen. The scars are extensive, streaking around his fingers and the palm of his hand and the bleeding gash in the middle is nothing compared to them. You lift your gaze to meet his only to find his eyes are dead of emotion.

“Azriel.” You breathe and it’s the first time you’ve ever addressed him by his name and it sounds so pretty, so beautiful but the way you’re looking at him…

“Don’t.” His throat feels tight and he starts to withdraw his hand from yours but you stop him. You want to know who hurt him this deeply. Today was a day of firsts for you–first smile from Azriel, first time you ever felt so angry, first time you growled at someone and you were more than willing to add another first to that list. Cursing someone.

But Azriel looks like he’s about to break so you push your rage aside. Realization dawns on you as you now understand why he’s always wearing gloves around you, why he avoided you at all costs before. Your heart aches.

“You don’t have to hide from me,” you say softly as you begin to heal his hand. “Your scars may forever carry their stories with them but they do not define you. Your heart does and I can see it now. It’s bright and beautiful. You’re beautiful and–”

“y/n,” he almost begs. “Please don’t talk to me like that.”

The gash on his palm is now completely healed and you tighten your hold on it. “Why?”

“It’s cruel and heartless and you don’t even realize.” His voice drops to a pained whisper and his eyes are fluttering shut, body trembling. Shadows cling on to him, embracing him in an attempt to comfort their master. You’ve never beheld anything more heartbreaking.

“Do you think that lowly of me?” You begin, your voice quiet. “That I would be put off by your scars?”

When he doesn’t answer, your free hand reaches for his face, lifting his chin up. But his eyes are still closed and deep lines form on his forehead because your skin is so soft, so warm and he’s not worthy.

“Azriel,” you steady your breath. “You’re my mate.”

His eyes shoot open, hazel orbs glistening with tears as he looks up at you. “You know?”

“I’ve known since the moment I met you.” You confess with a pained smile. “I wanted to tell you right away but I didn’t want to scare you and when I was ready to tell you, you were avoiding me. I thought you hated me because, well, I’m a witch and not everyone is fond of them.”

“But that night at Rita’s–”

“My stupid attempt at making you jealous,” you explain to him sheepishly. “I thought it would prompt you to talk to me but it backfired immensely.”

Silence falls over you two.

“I’m sorry.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “For what?”

“For being your mate.” Azriel responds. “I don’t deserve you. My hands are not only scarred but stained red. I’ve tortured many. I’ve killed many. You value life but I take it.”

“I value innocent life. It’s my duty to protect nature–to protect those that cannot speak for themselves.” You clarify. “I understand that it’s your duty to protect this court. I don’t see you any different for it.”

The hand at his face drops and you use it to remove the glove from his other hand. Your hands grasp onto his larger ones and you lace your fingers with his, embracing the thickened and roughened skin. Azriel’s breath hitches.

“This can’t be real,” he murmurs to himself, dropping his gaze. “In that field of dandelions, I wished upon every one of them. For you.”

“Magic doesn’t work that way,” you tell him with a smile as an overwhelming rush of tenderness comes over you. “It cannot create or destroy love. It can only heighten what is already there.”

Azriel’s expression softens and he looks back up at you. Half terrified. Half hopeful. “So this is real?”

You decide to show him instead by leaning down and kissing him.

Azriel’s body relaxes and then he’s using his hands to tug you forward and onto his lap. He kisses you back. Deeply and desperately. He places his hands on your face, your neck and then they’re at your waist, slipping under your shirt. He wants to feel your skin, all of you and you welcome it, arching into him because his touch feels so good.

It stirs a light of desire in you–a desire so bright that it rivals the sun and blossoms flowers of its own. A desire to love and be loved.

“What else did you wish for?” You gasp out when you both pull away for air. His hands are right under the curve of your chest and he leans his forehead against yours.

His breath is heavy but he smiles at you and you engrave the image into your mind because you’ve never seen anything so beautiful. You’re inclined to ask Feyre to paint it for you later.

“My only wish was for you to be mine.” He confesses, pressing a kiss to your nose.

“Done.”

And then he’s kissing you again.

Azriel has heard of a love that comes once in a lifetime–he’s seen it come to his brothers. He never thought it would come to him but he’s pretty sure that you are that love of his and he was a fool to push it away. He knows this now because when he gazes into your eyes, he can see forever in them.

here's an alternate scene, where y/n is the one who says "please don't talk to me like that" instead of az: read here

here's a scene if you're curious about feyre's reaction: read here

if you're interested in reading more about this au you can find the masterlist for this series here

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel imagine #azriel fluff #azriel angst #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #azriel x y/n #acotar x you #az!dandelions

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writtenapoiogy · 4 months ago

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need; jacaerys velaryon

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x f!reader

summary: you need your husband real bad. PWP

word count: 1.2k

warnings: nsfw, 18+, smut, MINORS DNI, PORN WITHOUT PLOT (honestly just to get something out), oral (m receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk if you squint, making out, high valyrian used (translation is at the end of the dialogue), JACE IS VOCAL AND I STAND ON THAT THAT MAN CAN NAWT KEEP QUIET!

a/n: SORRY FOR ANY ERRORS ITS 2AM I'm ngl i feel like this is BAD

“I show her my worth and within a week she is conspiring with a strange woman,” Jace complained as he stormed into your chambers. He had been trying so hard to get his mother to see that he was a worthy and useful pawn in this war but to no avail.

“Husband-,” You started.

“She cannot keep me locked awa-,” Jace continued, cutting you off.

“Jacaerys!” You shouted in merely a whine. You hadn’t laid with your husband in nearly two weeks. You craved and desired him more than you thought was humanly possible.

Whatever Jace was about to say completely flew out of his mind. His eyes were on you immediately. His attention was solely on you. He felt his cock harden at the tone in which you spoke his name. He strutted over to you with speed.

“We must be hard at work on creating an heir.” You say to try and keep his mind off the war. He tended to hold way more on his shoulders than he really needed to.

“An heir?”

“I know in the middle of a war may not be the best time however we could always practice.” You walked closer to him and untied the robe you were wearing.

At that moment, Jacaerys realized you in fact were only wearing a robe.

“Practice?” Jace spoke with such a tantalizing tone. He smirked at you as he parted open your robe, exposing you to him.

You had your hands on his face and brought him close, til he was mere meters away from your face. “I am in desperate need of you, Husband.”

Jacaerys growled and laid his mouth to yours in a sloppy open-mouthed kiss. You had your hands roughly intertwined in his hair. Only moans and saliva were being exchanged between your mouths.

He quickly helped rid you of the robe then lightly shoved you onto the bed. His sword belt fell to the floor along with the rest of his clothes in front of you as he undressed himself. You couldn’t help but admire him in all his glory. He was truly beautiful. You were lucky to call him your husband.

Jace followed you into the bed once he shed off his attire. His mouth was all over you in seconds. Nibbling on your ear lobe. Trailing kisses from your jawline, down your neck, all over your chest. He grazed his palm over your nipple, causing you to arch against his palm. He gripped the breast that was under his hand as he brought his mouth down to your other breast.

You wrung your fingers through as Jacaerys began to lick and suck your nipple eliciting delicious noises from you. “Jace.” You called out your lover’s name.

He dragged his teeth lightly along your nipple as he pulled away. You pulled him down to resume your kiss and he eagerly complied. You both opened your mouths for the other. Allowing your tongues to dance with each other.

Jacaerys was in complete awe of his wife. You were everything to him. Your touch. Your lips. Your everything, made him feel like he was being set aflame by dragon fire. You ran your fingers through his curls and tugged. He groaned against into your mouth.

You pulled your head back, out of breath. “Move.”

“Pardon?” Jacaerys genuinely looked offended, but you knew he was just being devilish.

You rolled your eyes at him, “Lay against the headboard.”

Jacaerys complied and you gave him one last kiss before you crawled down him, hovering over his aching red cock. You kissed the tip before kissing all the way down his member. You licked a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip, leaving Jacaerys shuddering.

You pulled away and blew cool air against the wet head before leaving a chaste kiss. His hand landed on the back of your neck as he jutted his hips. His wet cock slid up against the side of your face and he let out a lewd moan at the feeling of some friction.

“Please.” He breathed.

You began to bob your head up and down his length. Jace let out sounds that made a heat take over your body and a knot form in your stomach. He sounded so divine. You could feel yourself grow wetter and wetter from each noise that left his mouth.

Spit began to drip from your chin. You loved pleasing your husband. He deserved nothing less. He was a mess above you and it made you feel like you were on fire. You didn’t let up. Obscene sounds taking over the quiet room.

Jace’s hands hovered over the back of your head, resisting the urge to take control. He threw his hands down and gripped the sheets. He started to gasp and couldn’t help himself. He wrapped his hand around your hair and guided you down his cock til he heard you gag. “I’m sorry.” He panted as he let up.

“It’s okay.” You said after you pulled off of him and wiped your chin. You crawled over him. your wet and warm cunt hovered over his cock and you let him slide through your folds. You crashed your lips on his before the two of you could make any noises.

At the same time you both reached down to help align him with your entrance. You giggled against his lips. “Seems like I’m not the only desperate one.” Your last word came out in a gasp. Jace had pushed you down on his cock, completely.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and began to find a pace. Moving up and down your husband’s cock. Jacaerys was gasping and moaning into your neck. You weren’t exactly being quiet either, whining into his ear.

“Jace. Fuck!” You picked up your pace feeling that familiar knot in your stomach so close to bursting. You sat up straight and ground your hips, finding the perfect angle. Your clit was rubbing against his stomach and his cock was hitting that soft spot deep inside of you.

“I know, ñuha jorrāelagon. I can feel it.” Jace ran his hands up your stomach and over your breasts and the up to the back of your neck. His touch felt like no other. My love.

“Oh, Jace!” Your orgasm ripped through you like a wave crashes against the shore during high tide. Your body began to tremble as your heat clamped down on Jace leaving him breathless.

Jacaerys flipped the two of you over as your body still shook from your orgasm. He bit his lip trying to control the sounds leaving his mouth. The pulsing of your cunt was slightly overwhelming for your husband.

He continued to pump his cock in you. It didn’t take much for him to reach his peak too. Watching you below him. Breathing heavily with half-lidded eyes staring up at him. He came with a whine that trailed off into a groan. He shot his hot seed inside of you and your walls clenched around him. You wanted to keep him and his come inside of you.

As Jace went to pull out you wrapped your legs around him. “Wait.”

He looked at you with an upside-down smile and plopped down on top of you. He placed soft kisses on your jaw and whispered sweet nothings in your ear. Jace just said over and over again how much he loved you. How he couldn’t wait for the war to be over so you could finally begin your life together.

#house of the dragon #hotd #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon smut #jacaerys x reader #need that

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anneapocalypse · 5 months ago

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I cannot help feeling like the tendency to see Inquisition!Leliana in stark contrast to Origins!Leliana has led to some people forgetting what... Leliana is actually like in Origins.

In fairness, as in all Dragon Age games some very revealing character moments happen in party banter which makes it easy to miss. But the gentle-hearted mystic who desires only to draw others unto the love of the Maker has never been all that Leliana is, and it's always been in direct conflict with the side of her that is not only adept at intrigue and yes, violence, but enjoys those things. This is the central conflict of her whole character, and it's not a trivial conflict, because there is not one simple answer to who Leliana truly is. She is both of these things. She is deeply religious and finds comfort in her faith, and thinks it should bring comfort to others as well. She's also prone to gossip and pettiness and all the qualities that helped her thrive as a bard.

There's this one particularly revealing piece of banter with Alistair if the Warden is in a romance with Morrigan:

Alistair: So have you heard? Morrigan and him are... you know. Leliana: Have you nothing better to do than to spread idle gossip? And besides, he can probably hear us both. You're not being very discreet. Alistair: No, look, he's not even paying attention. Leliana: Hmmm. maybe. You don't... think that he's serious about it, do you? The woman is a vile fiend. Alistair: Well, look here, now who's an idle gossip? Me-ow! Leliana: You're the one who started this, I might remind you. And I'm... well, I'm ending it!

I once had the especially entertaining experience of getting this banter, and minutes later hearing Leliana turn to Morrigan to give her the "It's so nice that you're together, isn't love wonderful?" line. But whether or not you have the pleasure of hearing them back to back, I think this dialogue make it pretty clear that while Leliana would like not to think of herself as a gossip, it takes very little prompting from Alistair to get her to slip back into that mean girl persona. And Alistair (who is more perceptive than he often gets credit for), calls her on it immediately, clearly embarrassing Leliana--who realizes that her mask has slipped.

I don't think it follows from this that Leliana necessarily hates Morrigan unilaterally. There's something much more complex going on between them, in my opinion, because they are such distinct opposites in upbringing and personality. Both Leliana's faith and her life of courtly intrigue are nonsense to Morrigan, who neither believes in the Maker nor has much patience for intricate social graces (at least, not yet). Meanwhile, I think Morrigan's outward self-possession and the sense of power she exudes is a source of both fascination and frustration for Leliana, who thinks she understands power, both social and divine--but finds in Morrigan a kind she cannot fully comprehend. (I also think you can definitely feel some sexual tension into their banter, especially the much-beloved banter about the velvet dress.) Ultimately, both of them are very concerned with power, but approach that concept very differently. And Leliana responds to this clash of ideals in a particular way because her own self-image is so conflicted.

As all great Dragon Age foils do, Leliana and Morrigan needle one another, push each other's buttons, challenge one another's sense of self, and in doing so reveal one another in their complexity and sometimes in their ugliness. It is perhaps easy to write this off as the tired trope of women being unable to get along with one another, or conversely to claim that they get along just fine and fandom has fabricated the tensions between them; I think to do either of those things diminishes a genuinely complex and sticky relationship that serves to reveal a lot about both characters.

#leliana #morrigan #blunders of thedas #dragon age origins #dragon age meta

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singmyaubade · 2 years ago

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No Longer Yours

James Potter x Female!Reader

A/N: I am trying a new way of writing these stories, there won't be lots of dialogue in this part, but there will be more; this is just a look into where the story starts.

IB: In The Cold November Rain by @sweetsweetjellybean (Make sure to check it out, it’s amazing and one of the best I’ve ever read !)

Summary: James had disregarded you for multiple years, but when you have an epiphany in your final year, how does it feel to taste his own medicine?

Warning: It may contain swearing and soon-to-be smut.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

You never considered yourself to be a pushover when it came to things. Instead, you would use the word "understanding" and used it the most when it came to James Fleamont Potter.

He meant the absolute world to you since you were nine when you first met him. He lived next to you, both of your rooms being next to each other. You could always see him in his window, not that you were stalking, but you could never quite get your eyes off him.

Every time he would catch you staring, he would give you a wave, never felt weirded out. Then he would ring you up and ask you to come for dinner with your family. You would always accept unless your mother insisted on not intruding on them anymore.

You always caught his look of disappointment when you told him you couldn't come over, seeing him on the phone with you. It would always make your heart flutter, always having to stop the smile from forming on your face.

And then, after dinner, he would always come over, and you two would hang out (of course, with the door open). But you knew James would never try anything.

Your parents had suspicions when you both were fully formed teenagers and had hormones. Again, you knew James wasn't a perv; he respected you.

Even when he would slap your thigh in laughter when you said a joke or when his front pressed against your back when you two joked around, or his touch would linger when he ticked you.

But that was all besides the point; you loved James like no other. You loved the rest of the Marauders, too, but with James, there was no questioning if the love was different.

The only times you weren't sure about that 'love' was when Lily Evans would come around. He never truly knew how to pay attention to or regard you when she came around, but he claimed it was 'love.'

You wondered if he loved Lily the same way you loved him or if it was more complete, passionate, and extraordinary. You could never ask; James wouldn't know what to do. You couldn't blame Lily, it wasn't her fault, and she turned down his advances multiple times.

You were sure that James would move on, but then, during sixth year, Lily confessed that she was starting to have a crush on James.

You tried hiding your disappointment, but it was hard; it nearly broke your heart; you knew James would tell you all about it as soon as you saw him again.

There was no wish to be cruel, but a part of you, maybe the whole, was hoping she would joke. Perhaps she would again realize how immature James was and remember how he bullied Snape.

But that would be selfish and unfair to James; you were supposed to be his best friend, and he deserves this.

And you knew Lily was kind, beautiful, thoughtful, and honest. She deserved James more than he deserved her. You wouldn't break her happiness because it was pure; if you did, it would be evil.

So when she asked you if you were okay with that, constantly questioning your feelings towards James, you said,

"Of course, you should go out with James," You placed a hand on her shoulder, "I think you two would be amazing together." A genuine bright smile passed your face as she embraced you and thanked you for being truthful with her.

While they dated, James would always tell you every time he and Lily did something.

From every kiss, every date, and every cute moment to Lily laughing at a joke he made about crisps in Hogsmeade or the dove they saw randomly, which is a sign that they are genuinely in love.

After telling you every detail, he would embrace you in a tight hug so you could smell his scent entirely. He would thank you for being "such a good friend and say that "he loves you."

You knew he loved you but you wished he loved you in a different way. A way that his heart would scrunch when you were around or a way that made him want to compliment your hair or your smile like he did with Lily.

You wished it pissed you off enough to be mad at him, but every time he hugged you, you forgave him and knew it was just him being happy and wanting to tell a friend.

He still always joked around with you the same and bantered with you, but it was just less, you wanted more, but he could only give you so much time, and you knew that.

Only a few of your friends understood, like Remus and Dorcas. They would comfort you in every moment when you felt unsure of yourself, or you just wanted to talk.

You probably would have been misunderstood if it weren't for them, but they acknowledged and validated your feelings.

That's what got you through that time.

Nonetheless, there was no point in dwelling on past memories. James and Lily broke up at the end of that very year, it being mutual due to the realization of too many things clashing.

He was a bit of a wreck but recognized that it was for the better. It didn't stop him from sometimes crying in your arms, talking about how much he missed Lily.

Eventually, James started to move on, talking to you more, joking with you, and inviting you to sit next to him at dinner. You had missed this for so long and were grateful.

He went back to tickling you and playfighting with you. He would even make you sit with him during potions.

This was until the end of the year Quidditch match, Gryffindor had won, and excitement had raised. You went to congratulate James on the win, having a big jar of Fizzing Whizbees in your hand, his favorite.

You opened the door a crack, overhearing him but not wanting to interrupt his conversation with the rest of the Quidditch team.

"Come on, Potter, don't tell me you aren't going to snog her tonight," A boy you recognized as Matthew Collingwood teased, "She's been over you for years; why not just hit it and quit it?" Your face contorted to disgust after hearing his use of words.

"Don't tell me you are talking about Y/n," James scoffed, "There is no way I would ever think of her like that," A part of your heart broke hearing his words; he didn't even defend his last words.

"I mean, she does have a fat bum," Another boy laughed.

"Oy, she's like a sister to me, don't talk about her like that," James warned, his tone sounding half serious as the boy put his hands up jokingly.

A sister.

"Okay, but come on, Potter, you have to shag her at least once before we graduate," Matthew sneered.

"Listen, boys, I wouldn't touch Y/n if she were the last girl on earth," He belittled, "Besides, she would cling to my cock like crazy after that; I mean, look at her now, can't even take a piss without her peering over my shoulder." He gestured, pretending to take a piss and looking behind him to see if you were around.

The boys hollered, laughing at James’s visual representation of you.

Tears brimmed your eyes as you dropped the glass-made jar, shattering in the process. You let go of the door, turning your heel to run away.

The tears started running down your cheeks as you wiped each of them as they came. You went under a tree, crying your eyes out, wondering why James would be so cruel.

He was your best friend, and you thought he loved you enough to not make fun of you. James could sometimes be thoughtless, but he never was brutal to you.

Did he really think you were clingy, consistently all over him? Did he get annoyed by how much you were around him? Would he never like you even if you were the last girl on the planet?

You were humiliated, embarrassed by his words, his thoughts. Every feeling of James Potter that made you happy and wanted to fall into his arms turned into hate and resentment, his words reiterating in your mind a thousand times.

That night, you vowed never to make James Potter make you feel that way again.

So that night, you didn't join the celebration. You told your friends that your stomach was hurting and you weren't in the mood for festivities.

You didn't know if James had asked where you were during that night, and you didn't want to know after the words he had shared with others.

Since you were allowed to leave Hogwarts the day after summer began, you did. You didn't wait for James to go with you; you left without him, wishing all your friends goodbye, dismissing all questions about why you were leaving early and blaming it on your mother's wishes.

"Okay, well," Lily sighed, "Make sure to ring me over the summer and visit if you can." You embraced her and nodded your head, telling her that you will.

"And don't forget to ring me as well," Dorcas said from behind you as you went over to her and hugged her tightly, "Whatever he did," She whispered in your ear, "Give him hell."

You pulled out of the hug and gave her a smile, "I will."

As she left, you approached the Gryffindor common room to find Remus reading as usual.

"Gonna wish a good friend goodbye?" Remus questioned, looking over at you. You were glad he wasn’t questioning why you were leaving so early in the morning.

"How could I ever not?" You asked, embracing him for a minute.

"So, are you gonna tell me what he did?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"How do you and Dorcas know everything?" You said, rolling your eyes.

"How good of friends would we be if we didn't." He smirked, "I can ta-"

You cut him off, "No, this is not your responsibility; I will take care of it." You smiled, "But thank you for caring; it means the most to me."

"Of course," He said as you nodded and turned to leave, "And take care of yourself." You turned back, giving him a reassuring smile.

After saying all your goodbyes for the school year, you sat in a window seat, looking at the school you loved dearly. You never thought you could quite say this, but you were ready for home.

Once you returned home, a letter was waiting for you on your window seal stating,

Dear Y/n,

Give him hell.

Sincerely the only one you need,

Dorcas Meadows.

And what kind of friend would you be if you didn't do what was asked?

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buttercupjosh · 4 months ago

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The Perfect Proposal (the 4 times you expected that Mat was going to propose + the 1 time he actually did)

(Gif credit to @mattymartin)

word count: 1,968

genres: established relationship, fluff, self-insert

warnings: none

A/N: This story is based off of the song “Joy of My Life” by Chris Stapleton and I make references to this song throughout the story. I highly recommend listening to this song before reading my story. This story is short, sweet and fluffy. It’s not set at a specific moment in time (It’s taking place in a fictional future but you could also say that it’s set this upcoming season or even a past season). It’s written with a female reader in mind because I’m a female of color but the reader doesn’t specifically have to be a POC or a woman and there’s little dialogue. This is not a sequel to Your Favorite Secret (which you can still read and check out and if you want this to be a sequel to that, you can interpret it that way). As always, I’m open to any and all feedback, comments or questions; just put them in my inbox or dm me. Thank you so much in advance for reading, I appreciate it😌

(P.S. I have other stories (linked here) that I have written for other players as well if you want to check it out)

“Someday it will come right on cue.” -Somewhere Love Is Waiting for You from the Schmigadoon TV series soundtrack

Prologue

Meeting Mat changed your life in the best way possible. You took Mat’s breath away when you met up for your very first date and since then, you continued to take his breath away in small doses every time you saw him. He added so much goodness and love into your life and you did the same for him. Mat felt so grateful to have you in his life and even though he made millions, being with you was his greatest treasure. You and Mat deeply appreciated each and every moment you had together, no matter how big or small it was; the two years that you had been together so far were some of your greatest times. You were both so smitten that you always looked at each other with such deep love and devotion and couldn’t get enough of your significant other’s presence. For a while, Mat knew that he wanted to propose to you but he just needed to figure out the best way how to and time when to ask that all-important question.

————————————————————

It finally happened. After 3 challenging years, you finally completed law school and earned your Juris Doctor degree from NYU. All of your friends and family came into town to celebrate your accomplishment. In order to accommodate everyone, Mat graciously rented a large AirBnb house in the Hamptons to host your graduation party. You handled some aspects of the party planning while Mat handled the rest and the party went very well. During the congratulations portion of the evening, Mat wanted to give a quick remark to acknowledge your achievement.

“For the past 2 years, I watched this wonderful person ambitiously work their way through law school. There were a lot of late nights, early mornings and so many case reviews and vocabulary study sessions that I think I could go get a law degree. Y/N, to say that I am proud of you is a massive understatement. My love, you are so amazing and you did it. I love you so much. Because I love you so much, I have a surprise for you.” Mat spoke.

This moment seemed like it was the right time for Mat to ask for your hand in marriage; you had been dating for a while, you lived together and blended your families together, and he had just finished a great speech that made all of the party’s attendees realize how much he was in love with you. Instead, Mat handed you an envelope. Inside the envelope was a copy of a check for the exact amount that you owed in student loans and a letter informing you that your loans were fully paid off. You couldn’t believe what was happening and began to cry.

“How did you do this?”, you mustered out through your tears of joy.

“So you know how you gave me access to your book of important information in case anything happened to you? Well, I asked Liana to call the loan office to pretend to be you and ask for your account balance”, Mat cheesily revealed.

Mat saw firsthand how much distress and frustration law school caused you so he wanted to help out someone he deeply loved by eliminating the stress of having to pay for a student loan; this surprise was better than an engagement ring.

————————————————————

After your graduation party and after the Islanders were eliminated from playoffs, it was the official start of the off-season. This year, it was a milestone birthday for Mat’s dad so the Barzal family decided to do a European summer vacation to celebrate. You were important enough to their family that you had been invited and Liana, Mat’s sister, also invited her best friend to accompany her on the trip.

Hand-in-hand with the man you considered to be the love of your life and his family, for 3 weeks, you explored England, France, Monaco, and Mat’s ancestral homeland of Italy. In England, you indulged in English culture while Mat hilariously attempted a British accent. In France, you shared plenty of kisses with your lover in the City of Love, swooning every time Mat spoke French. In Monaco, you and Mat felt like the protagonists of a spy thriller while hanging out in the city.

Once you arrived in Italy, you got to see a different side of Mat that rarely came out. He had been to Italy several times before but he was thrilled to share all that he knew about that special place with you. Mat glowed differently whenever you got authentic gelato together or when he swam in the waters along the Amalfi Coast. Of course, throughout the trip, you still spent plenty of time with Mat’s parents, sister, and her friend and attended a lovely birthday dinner on a boat for Mat’s dad while visiting Sicily.

On the plane ride traveling back to Canada after your whirlwind European tour, you thought to yourself that you were going to come back to North America with a new jewelry addition to your left hand; you did have a lot of date nights and one-on-one time with Mat on the trip. However, your wonderful boyfriend did get you a gorgeous Cartier love bracelet from the official store in Paris and you were returning back with the gift of good memories that were created with your future in-laws.

————————————————————

The remainder of the off-season went by so quickly; between weddings, summer holidays, and other events all happening, you and Mat were swept in so many different directions. Time flies when you’re having fun and soon, it was already time to return to Long Island for the hockey season.

The usual ups, downs, and chaos of the hockey season lingered in your household but you navigated through it together. As the season went on, you spent a lot of time studying for the Multistate Professional Responsibility Exam and Universal Bar Exam, which allowed you to become eligible to be admitted to the New York State Bar next year. Even though you had those responsibilities, you still supported Mat at most of his home games. One of the things about Mat that you loved was how he would always quietly tiptoe into your shared home after a late game but he loved how you always waited up for him to come home after every game, regardless of what time he returned. Before you both knew it, the year was winding down and it was almost Christmas time. You and Mat had decided to host Christmas this year and both of your families were coming. This wasn’t the first time that both of your families had been together to celebrate an occasion; they were there all together for your law school graduation earlier in the year and both sides enjoyed being together as one cohesive unit but for some reason, things felt different to you this holiday season.

You spent hours preparing and making sure that everything was right for the arrival of your guests. Christmas came and went wonderfully. It was so nice to have your families together during the holidays. You gifted Mat a new game day tie and a gift card to one of his favorite road restaurants; Mat got you a nice bag to carry all of your work things and a personalized padfolio for you to take all of your legal notes in.

Yes, you were secretly expecting a diamond underneath the tree this year but it was okay because you still got other great gifts as well. Despite wanting something else, you still deeply cherished the time you got to spend with your loved ones.

————————————————————

After the holidays were over, you and Mat settled back into your respective routines until it was All-Star Break. Mat was not chosen for the All-Star Game that year and some of the Islanders players and families decided to go to the Bahamas for their team All-Star Break trip. The time away gave you and Mat both some essential rest and relaxation. At the end of February, you were scheduled to take the Universal Bar Exam but you took a break from studying to enjoy your mini-vacation. You stayed with your lover and company at a phenomenal resort; you swam with dolphins, relaxed at the spa, and ate so much tasty food. You also enjoyed lots of group activities with Mat and his teammates and their respective significant others. During the trip, one of Mat’s best friends’, Anthony, and his long-term girlfriend, Emma got engaged. It stung a little to see someone else reach the relationship milestone you deeply desired to share with Mat and you had expected that it was going to be you and your lover’s turn to share that special romantic moment on this trip, however, you were happy for your friends.

————————————————————

One evening, you came home from a long, exhausting day of work. After passing both the Universal Bar Exam and Multistate Professional Responsibility Exam and completing some other requirements, you were admitted to the New York State Bar last month and got a job as a junior attorney. It was a pleasant surprise to see Mat cooking; he was subtly singing in the kitchen and tenderly caring for some handmade pasta. You couldn’t quite make out what song Mat was singing but it didn’t matter what it was because you had caught him singing songs that you’ve played around the house and pop songs from the radio plenty of times before. You smiled to yourself as watched him in his element before slipping away for a much-needed shower.

After you came out of the shower and changed, there was a beautiful plate of pasta waiting for you on the table. Mat tapped deep into his Italian heritage and made a delectable dinner for the two of you. You shared with Mat the details of work and although, he may not quite fully understand everything you were expressing your feelings about, he still listened to you as you rambled on. After dinner concluded, you and Mat were going to share a box of bakery cannolis and watch a movie on the couch but Mat told you to wait at the table and suddenly got up. He returned to the room with a look of nervousness on his face. You asked Mat if he was okay but you could tell that he had something important to say.

“I’ve been holding onto this ring for a while. There were so many other times that I wanted to ask but there’s just something that feels so right about this moment. Sitting here, I realized something very important. I want to spend the rest of my life, making you dinner when I can and listening to you speak. I want to continue to come home from my games to you and wake up next to you. I have the greatest honor of knowing and loving you. You have the sweetest heart that’s made of gold and you are like an angel brought down to Earth from Heaven. I want to be by your side forever. Y/N, you are the joy of my life. Will you marry me?” Mat declared while holding out the engagement ring of your dreams in a Tiffany blue box.

You were speechless because Mat was right; this was the perfect moment. You looked straight into Mat’s green eyes that you admired so dearly and accepted his marriage proposal; you were both super excited to embark on this new journey in your relationship. You and Mat swayed with each other to the sound of your fiance’s voice, serenading you to “Joy Of My Life” by Chris Stapleton, the same song Mat was singing to himself earlier. Patience was an important virtue and all of that waiting paid off at the right time.

#mat barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat Barzal imagine #mat Barzal fic #ny islanders #my writing #hockey writing

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kwanisms · 3 months ago

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Unbearable — s.changbin

» stray kids menu | changbin menu | kinktober masterlist «

➮ werebear!Changbin × f!Reader wc: 8.9k summary: Changbin is a very reserved person. He tries to live a solitary and quiet life but after moving into a small studio apartment in what he thought was a quiet block of the city, his neighbor soon puts him to the test when she is extremely welcoming and outgoing. genres/themes/au: angst (heavy on this), fluff (again u gotta squint), smut; supernatural and lycanthropic themes, s2l, n2l; non idol au, supernatural au, werebear au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, alcohol consumption, thoughts of self doubt and self loathing, self isolation as a coping technique, mention of death, sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist has been moved to reblogs join my taglist! kinktober 2024 taglist is CLOSED! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL NOT BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST.

a/n: i am so sorry this took so long to get done and posted! i just lost steam for writing a lot of longer oneshots but thankfully, i got that steam back and now Kinktober 2023 can finally come to a close! Thank you so much for those of you that have been patiently waiting for this and you will be getting a sequel to this part very very soon! Thank you so much for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), protected sex (it’s rushed and spur of the moment but at least Changbin uses his goddamn brain lmao), oral (both receiving), fingering (f receiving), strength kink, choking, body worship, facesitting (m receiving), use of pet names (baby, bunny, etc), power bottom!Changbin, sub!Reader, Binnie is a strong boy and Y/N really appreciates it and they are both kind of drunk off each other's presences. If I missed anything let me know! dialogue prompt: ❛ Don’t cover your mouth, I want everyone to know how good I make you feel. ❜

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The thing Changbin hated the most about his… condition, was having to move whenever things got complicated. His intense dislike of moving started as a child, moving from place to place because of his father’s work. He was in his final year of high school on a camping trip with some friends when the unthinkable happened.

Changbin wanted to try something new. He’d been camping in almost all the parks in Korea and wanted to go somewhere different. They decided to try Jirisan National Park. Most campers avoided the area due to the black pear population but Changbin’s friends were confident in their preparations.

They agreed to spend a week in the park; fishing, camping, hiking, and seeing the sights.

Most of the wildlife they encountered were small critters like squirrels and chipmunks and the occasional deer. Until their last night in the park.

Changbin had gotten up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night and while doing his business, was attacked by a bear. It bit him, teeth tearing into the flesh of his arm. His scream alerted his friends who came to his rescue, scaring the creature off with mace.

Changbin was in and out of it from the shock and loss of blood but his friends later relayed to him that they called the ranger station on their radio and a helicopter was sent to airlift him to the nearest hospital. He was rushed into surgery and thankfully his arm was salvageable.

Changbin was lucky to be alive and he knew it.

It was a month later when he realized things had changed forever.

The bear that had attacked him was no ordinary bear but was a werebear and Changbin had been cursed. He had been living with that curse for the last several years.

For the most part, he was able to keep to himself and keep his condition under wraps but occasionally, he slipped up and had to move which was the case yet again. He’d changed in view of one of his neighbors and had to make plans upon learning his secret had been discovered.

He found a new place, a small studio apartment on the outskirts of the city. Changbin’s goal was to find a place in the country but land was expensive.

He’d moved into the apartment, keeping to himself as he moved his things in. The apartment had come empty so he had to buy furniture to fill it and had spent an entire day building his own furniture alone. It wasn’t much but it was his and he’d have to make it home.

He had hoped to get through his two year lease without incident and left alone but his hopes were dashed when he ran into his neighbor who lived across the hall, Y/N. You were the opposite of him. Where Changbin was quiet, shy, and reserved you were bubbly and outgoing.

You had come back from running errands when you ran into him at the mailbox and immediately introduced yourself. Changbin was sure he had come off as very rude in this interaction but you didn’t seem to take it to heart, greeting him each time you saw him with a big smile.

You had told him that if he needed anything to not hesitate to ask and that you were happy to help.

You often brought him food, making too much for one person to eat and often gave him some of your leftovers. Changbin felt rude if he didn’t accept it and he didn’t want to hurt your feelings. The food was good, he wasn’t going to lie and say it sucked. He just wanted to be left alone.

You were far too friendly and more generous than he was used to or felt he deserved.

He was working from home one afternoon, close to his heat, when he heard a knock on his door and got up from his desk to answer it. Peering through the peephole, he saw you standing on the other side of the door and sighed softly. He unlocked the door, removing the chain and pulled the door open just enough to peek out.

“Hey,” you said softly. Changbin could hear music coming from one of the apartments upstairs. “Hey,” he replied softly. In your hands, you held another tupperware container. “I made some stew,” you started, glancing down at the container. “And I made too much,” you continued. “Again.”

“I uh… I thought you might like some,” you said with an uncertain smile.

Changbin forced a smile and pulled the door open some more. “That’s very kind of you,” he said softly as you handed the container over. “I keep finding recipes for families,” you added. “Too many servings for one person.” Changbin nodded as you spoke.

“I’m sure you’re busy,” you noted and smiled at him. “I’ll leave you alone.” Changbin hesitated, wanting to say thank you but you turned and crossed the hall back to your door, entering your apartment and shutting the door.

He looked down at the stew and sighed again.

The last time you had come over to bring him food, he’d just come out of a transformation and had snapped at you. He’d been irritable, unwell, and frustrated with his situation and when you offered him some of your extra chicken, he snapped at you, slamming the door in your face.

Despite that, you were still bringing him food and being nice to him. He felt awful as he closed his door. Even after being so rude and mean, going as far to slam the door in your face, you still thought of him and brought him extra food.

He set the container on his counter and stared at it for a few moments before sitting back down at his computer and opening a new tab on his browser. He’d decided to make it up to you. He typed away, looking up gifts to give neighbors.

He managed to find a few good articles before he got up, grabbing his apartment keys and pulling on his jacket. He headed over to the town center, finding a garden center. From the various interactions he’d had with you in the past, you always mentioned your love for plants.

Your apartment was apparently decorated with them.

Changbin didn’t know much about plants but nonetheless, he returned home with a small potted plant. A little light green succulent. He hoped you’d like it.

The next day, he had to go into work so he wasn’t able to give you your gift and by the time he arrived home and knocked on your door, either you were asleep or out as it was a Friday night.

That night, he heard you come home and upon peering out of the peephole saw that you weren’t alone. You had a friend with you and Changbin knew he couldn’t apologize just yet. Maybe in the morning but the next morning you didn’t answer your door.

For a whole week, you didn’t answer any of his knocks nor did he see you.

Finally, when he was getting his mail from the mailbox downstairs, you returned. Changbin felt relieved as you entered the building. He was starting to get worried. You didn’t greet him with a usual smile when you saw him. Instead you quietly got your mail, a week's worth of it, and headed up the stairs without even looking at him.

Changbin followed from a distance, glancing over as you unlocked your door and let yourself into your apartment, not even sparing him a first or second glance as the door shut softly. It made his heart ache that he’d clearly scared you off enough to limit your contact with him.

More determined than ever, Changbin returned to his apartment and grabbed the plant with the envelope that contained a handwritten apology addressed to you where he apologized profusely for the way he acted and that while it was no excuse, he’d just gotten over a bad bout of the flu and wasn’t feeling well when he snapped at you. It wasn’t as much as you deserved but Changbin had never been very good with confrontation.

He set the plant on your welcome mat with the envelope front and center with the word ‘sorry’ written across the front of it. He stood back up and knocked three times loudly before retreating to his apartment and shutting the door.

He peered through the peephole, hoping to see you appear. Luck was on his side as your door opened slowly, your head appearing and looking around before your head turned down, noticing the plant. You opened the door fully, leaning out to look down the hall. As you knelt down to look at the plant, Changbin watched as you lifted the letter and looked at it.

He saw your gaze briefly look up at his door and though he knew you couldn’t possibly see him watching you, it made him nervous anyway. He watched as you grabbed the potted plant and stood up straight, plant in one hand, his letter in the other. You retreated to your apartment, shutting the door and Changbin sighed a breath of relief.

He decided to go back to his work, hoping he might hear from you later.

Around dinner time, Changbin’s stomach growled and he got up from his desk, hanging his headphones around his neck as he walked down the hall from his studio to the kitchen to open the fridge. He cursed softly as he saw he didn’t really have much in the way of a meal in his fridge. Another forgotten grocery trip meant ramen again.

He shut the fridge and opened a cabinet, grabbing a pot to make his ramen in and as he moved to the sink to fill it with water, there were three loud knocks at his door. He dropped the pan in the sink with a metallic clang and hurried over to the door, hoping he might see your face when he looked through the peephole but he was met with an empty hallway.

His heart sank and he stepped back, unlocking the door and opening it slightly. His eyes immediately fell to a pot with a lid sitting on his mat with a small card. He opened the door and bent down to pick up the card to read it.

‘Apology accepted but only if you eat all of this! ~ Y/N’

He looked down at the pot and carefully picked it up by the handles. It was hot. He looked up at your door before retreating into his apartment, shutting the door with his foot. He carried the pot over to the kitchen island and set it down. He read the card once more, turning it over to find a small smiley face.

He smiled to himself, setting the card down and lifted the lid to find what he could only assume was budae jjigae. There were slices of spam, sausages cut into small pieces, ramen noodles, mushrooms, fish cake, and rice cake in a spicy broth topped with cheese and chopped green onions. It smelled amazing and Changbin couldn’t help but feel a small sense of guilt at how he’d previously treated you.

He glanced at the card once more before he moved to grab a pair of chopsticks and a spoon. You had offered to accept his apology but only if he ate everything and he wasn’t about to let this meal you’d made specifically for him go to waste.

A week had passed by and while Changbin hadn’t seen or spoken to you face to face, he could feel that whatever tension there was between you had dissipated. You had accepted his gift and he, yours. Things were almost back to normal.

His heat loomed a couple days away when he went to the gym to burn off some steam. It was never enough to fully satiate his needs but it was the best he could do since he wasn’t seeing anyone, nor was he about to go looking.

As he was working on his usual set, he heard the door open and a familiar scent hit his nose, making his heart rate increase more than the current workout. He turned his head and saw you walk over towards the elliptical. He turned his head back, internally panicking. He could tell by your scent that you were close to ovulating and it was sending him into overstimulation.

He didn’t want to end his workout early, but he knew if he kept going, he was going to do something he would regret and could possibly get him and you arrested. He finished his set quickly and got up, moving to grab the spray bottle and a few paper towels to wipe down the machine.

He returned the bottle to its stand, tossing the used paper towels away and grabbed his things, heading for the door. He glanced over at you which proved to be a terrible mistake. You were stretching before getting on the elliptical which was a good practice Changbin noted but you were bent over, ass on full display in your leggings.

Changbin was no stranger to your figure. He was used to seeing you in dresses, skirts, or sometimes an oversize sweater and leggings but seeing you in form fitting athletic gear was something he was not used to. He wasn’t used to how it hugged your curves, outlining everything about your body he found insanely attractive.

He was so busy staring at your ass that he ran right into the trash bin beside the door with a loud bang that echoed in the otherwise small gym. You stood up and turned to look at him, an expression of confusion and concern on your face as he put the trash bin back, cheeks burning as he glanced back at you, giving you a nod before he quickly exited the gym, heading for the stairs.

He was glad there was no one else in the room and that no one had actually seen him run into the trash can. How embarrassing would that have been?

Changbin made it to his floor and entered his apartment. He showered and changed into clean clothes before heading to the kitchen. He’d actually gone grocery shopping this time and as he was browsing his fridge, he heard his phone ding from the kitchen island. Closing the fridge, he walked over to pick up the device, unlocking it and checking his messages.

It was a text from you and it sent his heart into a frenzy before remembering you had exchanged numbers shortly after he moved in because your packages kept getting delivered to his box instead of yours. It had been a while since then and your mail had gotten sorted out but he genuinely forgot he even had your number as he read the text.

Y/N Neighbor: hey, is everything alright? That sounded painful ):

Changbin grimaced. ‘Sounded?’ he wondered. ‘That means she didn’t see it. Good.’ He quickly typed a response.

Changbin: yeah! I wasn’t watching where I was going. Too busy looking at my phone 😅i’m ok tho 🙂

Your response was swift.

Y/N Neighbor: okay good. I was worried. Y/N Neighbor: hey, while I have your attention. Do you have plans for dinner?

Changbin chuckled, typing his response.

Changbin: why? you gonna leave another pot of stew on my door mat? Y/N Neighbor: no 😭i was actually wondering if you’d like to come over for dinner Y/N Neighbor: I got some really nice beef short ribs from the butcher and was planning to make some tteokgalbi. I found a recipe and wanted to give it a shot

A grin spread across Changbin’s face as he read your text.

Y/N Neighbor: and who better to ask than my only Korean neighbor? Y/N Neighbor: So how about it? Y/N Neighbor: Do you want to come over for dinner?

Changbin hesitated answering as he stared at his phone. On one hand, he would love nothing more than to come over and help teach you how to make one of his favorite dishes, eat together, and enjoy your company but on the other hand, he knew that he was tempting fate, being alone with you so close to his heat. He weighed the pros and cons but very quickly, his logic was beat out by the promise of beef short ribs.

Changbin: sure. I’d love to. What time?

He sent the message and waited for your response. It took a couple moments but he saw the read receipt appear and soon you were typing your response.

Y/N Neighbor: I’m almost finished in the gym and I’ll have to shower. So let’s say… 7PM?

He smiled before typing back, thumbs tapping against the screen of his phone.

Changbin: perfect. See you at 7 (:

Changbin stressed over what to wear as this wasn’t exactly a formal setting like a date but you had still invited him to dinner at your place and you were going to be making food but he would be helping so he opted for something comfortable. Black pants, a white tee, and a gray sweatshirt. He scoured his fridge and pantry for something to bring with and settled on an unopened bottle of wine in his fridge that he received as a parting gift when he left Korea.

With the bottle of wine in hand, he headed across the hall. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door, resisting the urge to run and hide. He heard footsteps approach the door and after unlocking, the door opened to reveal your smile. “Hi,” you said breathlessly. Changbin returned the greeting and you opened the door wider to let him in.

He stepped over the threshold awkwardly, holding the bottle of wine tightly as he entered your apartment. It was smaller than his but you had a studio while he had a two bedroom. In the entryway you had tile flooring much like his and a shoe rack stood against the wall with various pairs of shoes from running shoes to much dressier shoes like pumps. There were even a couple pairs of boots.

Hanging over the shoe rack was a shelf that went from one wall to the other in the small entryway. On top of the shelf were various storage items inside pleasant looking boxes with drawers and small printed labels on the front detailing what was inside. On the underside of the shelf was a bar where you jackets hung including one heavy winter coat and various scarves for different temperatures.

Beside the shoe rack was a small bench with a cream and brown striped cushion where you no doubt sat and put on your shoes before leaving the apartment. You had already put on a pair of house slippers and to his surprise, a new pair of house slippers were sitting on standby for him. He quickly removed his shoes, a pair of crocs, and slid on the slippers as he followed you from the entry.

The rest of your apartment was just as small. There was a large flatscreen on the wall that separated the living area from the entryway. Under it stood a brown media center with a gaming console and inside the glass doors was a wide array of video games and DVDs.

Your couch, a sectional, took up the back wall, squeezing into the corner and ending before the door to your balcony and was littered with pillows with a plush cream colored blanket, folded in half and draped over the arm.

In front of the couch between it and the media console, was a coffee table with a few plants. Behind the couch was a window with a wide window sill which was full of potted house plants of different varieties and colors. The more he looked around, the more plants he saw. He was glad he had gotten it right and gifted you a plant.

Next to the living area was a small dining area with a four person bistro table pushed against the wall on the opposite side of the door to the balcony. Three of the four chairs were placed around the table and on top was a vase with a few flowers in it. Behind the table, another window with deep set sills littered with more plants. Next to the dining area was your bedroom area. It was separated by a curtain, hung from a track on the ceiling. The curtain was a sheer white one, allowing Changbin a glimpse past it to your bed. It was a queen size with a black fluffy comforter and matching black decorative pillows. The sheets were hidden but the pillows behind the throw ones were a cream color with a light floral pattern.

On one side of your bed was a nightstand with a lamp and alarm clock while on the opposite side was a tall chest of drawers, atop where a few makeup items and perfume bottles stood. He turned away before he could get a good look at it all and faced you. “Oh, is that for tonight?” you asked, nodding towards the bottle in his hands. He nodded, crossing the short distance.

“Yeah, I uh… wasn’t sure what to bring,” he admitted, holding the bottle out for you to take. You smiled, taking the bottle and moved behind the kitchen island, opening the fridge and setting the bottle inside on the door. Changbin looked around once more as you shut the fridge and turned to face him.

“So, shall we get started?” you asked. Changbin walked over to the island, looking at the items on the counter. You had the beef ribs sitting on a plate. Everything else had been measured out and was ready to go. He could see you also had soybean sprouts, spinach, zucchini, daikon, and tofu. “What is all of this for?” he asked, nodding at the other items.

“I thought we could also make some of the side dishes?” you asked, looking up at him. Changbin smiled, pushing the cuffs of his sleeves up as he moved around to join you at the sink and wash his hands. “So I’m guessing you have the stuff for seasoned soybeans, seasoned spinach, hobak bokkeum, daikon radish salad, and pan fried tofu?” he asked as you dried your hands.

You nodded before handing him the towel. “I’ve made them before, so I could prepare those while you prepare the ribs?” you offered. Changbin smiled, shaking his head. “We can make them together while the meat cooks,” he explained. “How about you cut the garlic and onions and make the marinade?” he asked. “That way you can watch how to prepare the meat.” You nodded with a smile.

“Sounds good to me.”

You quickly cut the garlic and onions, adding them to a bowl while Changbin prepared the ribs. You continued making the sauce while he explained how to mince the meat and showed you. “And you leave it on the bone?” you asked. He nodded as he set one rib aside and worked on another one. You added the rest of the ingredients to the bowl and stirred it, mixing it well.

“How’s this?” you asked, showing Changbin the sauce. He peered into the bowl. “How does it taste?” he asked. You looked up at him and back down. “You can dip your finger in here,” he said with a chuckle. You did as he said and tasted the sauce. “It’s really good,” you answered, moving to rinse your hand again. Changbin finished the second rib and moved onto the last one, slicing the meat down to the bone. “If you want to start putting the sauce on the ribs,” he said as he continued cutting.

“Make sure to get it down into the meat,” he added as you moved to his other side and started scooping out the marinade, placing generous amounts onto the ribs while he finished cutting the last one. He rinsed the knife and your cutting board before washing his hands and drying them.

He leaned over, inspecting your work. “Don’t use all of it,” he said as you focused on the last one. You looked up at him inquisitively as he took the bowl from you with a laugh. “You have to save some for later.” You nodded and moved to wash your hands while he set the remainder of the sauce aside. “Is the oven preheated?” he asked.

You glanced behind you and noticed the little light, communicating this to him. “Perfect,” he said, picking up the cast iron pan. You hurried to open the oven for him and he set the pan in the middle of the rack and stood up, shutting the door and turning to you. “Now we can work on those side dishes,” he said with a smile.

You focused on the cooking while Changbin did all the cutting and seasoning. Your rice cooker had finished when you plated the pan fried tofu. “Do you want something to drink?” you asked Changbin. He looked up from the spinach dish. “Uh, sure,” he said as he mixed the spinach with sesame oil and garlic.

You turned to open the fridge, eyes falling on the bottle of wine. “Want to open this wine?” you asked, turning back to look at him. He looked up from the dish, eyes wide. “Oh, yeah, sure,” he answered, returning his focus to the spinach.

He felt his heart rate speed up. He was already tempting fate by being alone with you like this but adding alcohol to the mix? That could only end in disaster. He knew from experience that mixing alcohol with his heat and someone as pretty as you were? It was surely to end only one way but he was determined to not let it go that way.

You opened the bottle of wine and poured two glasses, putting the bottle back and gently pushing one of the glasses towards Changbin who thanked you and lifted the glass to his face, sniffing the liquid as you took a sip. Changbin followed, taking a sip before he immediately spit it back into the glass, as did you, exclaiming with disgust. You met his gaze and the two of you burst into laughter.

You retrieved the bottle from the fridge to inspect it while Changbin walked over to grab your glass, dumping both into the sink. “God, that’s awful,” you gagged. Changbin rinsed out the wine glasses, setting them aside. “Do you have anything else?” he asked.

You looked up from the bottle, setting it aside. “I might have some soju,” you said softly, turning to the fridge and opening it while Changbin watched, eyes roaming over your body and taking in your outfit. It was a simple cream dress with a pleated skirt that fell to the middle of your thighs. Over it, you wore an off the shoulder light pink sweater, showing the thick straps of the dress. He saw the white thigh high stockings you work and it took everything in him to not jump you right there.

“I do have soju,” you announced. “Soju sounds nice,” Changbin answered, drawing his eyes away from your backside. “Could you grab a couple shot glasses from the cabinet?” you asked, gesturing to the correct door as you grabbed an unopened bottle of Soju from the fridge. Changbin set the glasses down and grabbed the bottle from you.

“Want to see a neat trick?” he asked. You nodded, leaning against the counter and watching him attentively as he grasped the bottle firmly. “This is just something we do in Korea,” he said. “It doesn’t really serve a purpose other than to look cool.” You nodded and watched as he quickly turned the bottle so the cap was pointed to the 4 o’clock position before flicking it back upright quickly.

Inside the bottle, the liquid swirled around, creating a small cyclone. Your smile widened and you shifted on your toes. “Can I try?” you asked excitedly. Changbin handed the bottle over, showing you how to hold it before letting you attempt. The first try did nothing except make some bubbles.

“Here,” he said, moving to stand behind you, reaching around to place his hand over yours. “Like this,” he said softly, guiding your hand to the correct positions slowly. “Just like that, only faster. Try it.” You followed his instructions and managed to make a weak tornado appear in the bottle.

“I did it!” you said excitedly as he chuckled, taking the bottle from you. He twisted the cap off, leaving the small strip of metal attached. He poured your shot first before pouring one for himself. “The first one, we always cheer,” he explained as you both picked up your glasses. “How do you say cheers in Korean?” you asked. “Gonbae,” he replied, holding his shot glass up slightly.

You raised yours to meet his, giving it a small tap, the clinking of glass soft. “Gonbae,” you repeated before raising the liquor to your lips and tipping your head back, pouring the entire shot into your mouth and swallowing as Changbin mirrored your movements.

It was slightly sweet, very crisp, and clean as it went down smoothly. You set the shot glass down as Changbin finished his shot a step behind you, setting his glass down as well. You looked up to meet his gaze but before you could say anything, a timer went off, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“The short ribs!” you exclaimed, grabbing a pair of potholders while Changbin moved to take over the frying of the zucchini. You pulled the pan out and set it down. “Let’s transfer them over to this,” Changbin said, grabbing the cast iron sizzler pan, turning on the burner next to the other skillet. It heated up quickly and you helped Changbin move the ribs over to the sizzling pan, placing them face down on the iron and spooning the rest of the sauce over them.

“We’ll let those cook for a bit and then turn them over and let them finish cooking,” he said as he set the spoon aside. “This is done, by the way,” he said, moving the zucchini off the burner and turning it off. “Now, we just wait on the galbi,” he added.

You poured another shot for him before pouring one for yourself and quickly downed it. His close proximity earlier had made goosebumps rise on your arms and thighs and there was now a burning ache in your skin where he’d touched you as we all other places he had not touched.

The meat was done after a few more minutes and Changbin insisted you set the coffee table, opting to eat in the living room instead of the dining table as it was a much less formal setting. You moved the side dishes and bottle of soju over to the coffee table, also getting two bottles of water from the fridge as Changbin placed the sizzler pan on the wooden block that came with it.

Once you’d set the table, he walked over, setting the galbi in the middle while you moved a cushion to the floor for him to sit on. You admired your handiwork, looking at all the side dishes and the main dish. You had scooped two bowls of rice from your rice cooker and also heated up some leftover beef broth and added green onions for garnish.

You sat down, Changbin across from you. “We make a pretty good team, don’t we?” you asked, looking up to meet his gaze. “Yeah,” he said with a smile. “We really do.”

You made space for Changbin to sit next to you, opting to put on a movie while you ate, drank, and chatted. He showed you how to make ssambap, adding the meat, rice, and sauce to a lettuce leaf and eating the entire thing. It was all so delicious and you mentioned in passing that you should have him over more.

One bottle of soju dwindled and you grabbed a second which also slowly emptied as you ate your fill of the food. Most of the plates were empty when you poured another shot for Changbin before pouring one for yourself. You raised your glasses and downed the shots quickly.

“So,” you said as you set your glass down and looked up at Changbin. “Can I ask you something?” you asked, scooting a little closer to him, enjoying the warmth that radiated from his body. He nodded, resting his elbow on the table and resting his chin in his palm as he looked at you with sparkling eyes.

“Why are you single?”

The question took him by surprise. He hadn’t expected you to ask that, let alone ask it so boldly. You had an innocent look on your face as you looked at him, expecting an answer. He mulled over his thoughts before choosing his words, carefully.

“I have a… complicated life,” he started. “There are things I have to… hide from people. Not because I’m afraid of how they’ll see me but because I’m afraid of scaring them off.” Your smile fell and you leaned closer, placing a hand on his forearm. “You’re a good person, Changbin,” you said softly in a reassuring tone. “There’s someone out there for you.”

He smiled at you, a small but genuine smile. “What about you?” he asked softly, looking at your hand on his arm, his heart rate speeding up as he looked up, meeting your gaze. “Me?” you asked. “I guess I haven’t found the right person. I’ve been burned too many times.”

Changbin felt his heart sink. The thought of you getting your heart broken made him both sad and angry.

He didn’t know you that well but from what he’d experienced since moving in, he couldn’t imagine anyone purposely hurting you.

Changbin scooted closer, placing a hand over yours. The moment his skin touched yours it was like you’d been hit with an electric shock. You looked up to meet his eyes. There was a moment of unspoken tension between you as you stared at one another before something happened.

You weren’t sure who moved first but all you knew was that one minute you were sitting on the floor, using your coffee table as a table to eat at, the next you were straddling him, your lips on his and hands tangled in his hair as his hands slid up your back.

You moaned into his mouth, hands tugging at his hair as he grabbed your waist. “Wait,” he said breathlessly, pulling away to look up at you, his lips shining with your spit. “Maybe we shouldn’t. We’ve both been drinking. Maybe we should — mmpf!”

You cut him off, taking his lips in another searing kiss, your lips parting his and your tongue sliding against his. His fingers dug into your hips, squeezing the plush flesh there as your lips started to plant wet kisses down the side of his neck over his pulse point. He let out a soft groan, letting his head fall back against the couch cushions as you kissed down to the junction where his neck and shoulder met.

You pulled the fabric aside, nipping and sucking on the skin as his hands guided your hips over his growing erection. “Fuck,” he gasped as you grinded against him. “Keep doing that, baby.” Your fingers inched up the back of his neck, curling into his hair before tugging his head to the side, trailing kisses and your tongue up the side of his neck.

“Is it bad that I kinda wanna sit on your face?” you whispered in his ear, making him groan. “God, please,” he groaned. “I’ll lay down right here if you’ll sit on my face,” he promised. You giggled as he pulled you in for a sloppy kiss. You pulled back, gently wiping his bottom lip with your thumb. “I’m serious,” he murmured against your skin.

“Take your panties off and sit on my face.”

You shook your head. “You take my panties off and then I’ll think about sitting on your face.”

Changbin growled, pushing your coffee table back with his foot, wrapping his arms around your body as he got to his feet in an impressive display of strength, before carrying you over to the bed and dumping you unceremoniously on the bed. He climbed on after you, crawling over you.

“Before we go any further,” he said softly. “Are you sure about this?” You nodded quickly. “Yes,” you said, grabbing one of his hands and guiding it under your skirt to press his fingers against your soaked panties. “I want this, Changbin. I want you.”

He groaned, pressing his fingers harder against you as he captured your lips in another heated kiss, tongue hastily entering your mouth as his hand slipped under your panties, finding your soaked center quickly and dragging his finger against your clit. “Ch-Changbin!” you gasped against his lips as his fingers sank into your heat, groaning as he started to move, curling and pumping in and out of your cunt.

“Fuck, you’re gonna be so tight around me,” he growled. Your thighs spread on instinct as he fucked your hole with his fingers quickly, attempting to coax an orgasm out of you. “B-Bin,” you whimpered, grabbing his wrist as he moved faster. Your hands trembled as you held onto him, eyes dipping down to watch as his forearm flexed.

Seeing his muscles flex with the simplest of motions made a fresh wave of arousal course through you, your walls clenching around his fingers. Changbin could tell you were close but he really wanted to take up your offer to sit on his face. Reluctantly, he pulled his fingers from your pussy, ignoring the whine of protests as he kissed the pout off your face.

“I told you I was serious,” he said as he grabbed your panties, pulling them off and discarding them.

“I want you to sit on my face,” he added as he laid back on the bed, taking your hands and guided you over him. “Bend over slightly,” he said, pushing to over as he guided your hips into place over his mouth. “You don’t have to do anything,” he added as he licked his lips.

“Just let me have a taste.

You were about to speak but your words were cut short by the gasp that ripped from your throat as his tongue made contact with your clit. Your hands landed on his stomach to steady yourself as he licked slowly and deliberately, flattening his tongue against your clit.

“Oh god,” you groaned, fingers grabbing the material of his sweater. Your eyes fluttered open as you glanced down at his crotch, noticing the outline of his hard cock. You got an idea as he continued to makeout with your pussy. You moved your hand down, sliding it over his cock, making him groan against you. His arms flexed against your thighs as he wrapped them tighter around, hands spreading your folds as he renewed his attention on your entrance, tongue swirling around it before dipping in.

You started to palm him through his pants, pressing your hand flat against him and massaging slowly. He was only semi-hard and as you continued to massage and stroke him over the material of his pants, he started to grow harder and harder under your touch.

You moaned as he latched onto your clit and sucked, making lewd wet slurping noises as he hungrily ate you out. It didn’t deter you from your goal as your fingers worked to undo the ties of his sweatpants. Once you’d gotten them loose, you slid your hand under the waistband, slipping your hand into his boxers and grabbing his hard cock.

He let out a strained noise, moaning against your cunt as your hand started to work his cock inside his pants. His one movement started to move faster as you stroked him, as if to match your movements. “Oh shit,” you gasped as he gently nipped at your clit, the graze of his teeth making your hips buck against his face. You needed to get him to the edge before you came.

You pushed his pants and underwear down, freeing his cock as he latched onto your clit again. His cock was thick, veins running up and down the shaft. The head was dark, a bead of precum already leaking from the slit at the top.

You wrapped your fingers around the base, ignoring the hiss and hot breath against your pussy as you started to slide your hand up and down, using your palm to spread some of the precum. It wasn’t enough and so you pulled back, spitting into your hand before resuming, your saliva creating a lubricant to move faster and faster.

Changbin let out another strained groan, head falling back against the bed as your hand continued to jerk his cock. Just as you thought you were gaining the upper hand, Changbin snapped out of it, pulling your pussy down onto his waiting mouth, tongue sliding over your clit, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. His focus made yours waver as your hand faltered, sliding to the base of his cock.

“O-oh, god,” you moaned, head falling onto his stomach as he continued to lick, suck, and nip at your clit. Your hips started to move of their own accord, grinding against him as you tried to resume stroking his cock. Lifting your head, you did the only thing you could think of and gave the tip of his cock, particularly the slit, a lick before taking the head into your mouth.

Changbin groaned against you, giving your hip a sharp smack and you cried out, his cock falling from your mouth. Your lapse allowed him to regain control, tonguing your hole until he gave one final suck on your clit and you finally came with a moan of his name.

As your thighs shook from the aftermath of your orgasm, he lapped at your pussy, drinking up every bit of your release before you started to shy away from the contact. He helped you off him, chuckling as you rolled onto your back. Changbin grabbed his pants and underwear, pulling them up as he wiped his face with his shirt.

“I should have made you face the other way,” he said as he helped you out of your top, tossing it aside and pressing a kiss to your collar. His lips trailed down to your breast, running his tongue over your nipple and gently blowing on the wet skin as he kneaded your other breast with his hand.

He sat up, moving to kneel between your thighs, his hands moving up your thighs to your waist, eyeing your wet pussy. “Now that I’ve had a taste,” he said softly. “I want more.” You giggled as he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in short, quick kisses. “C’mere,” he murmured, cupping the back of your head as he parted your lips with his, allowing his tongue to slide into your mouth, the taste of your cum on his tongue.

“Changbin,” you sighed, head falling back against the pillows as he kissed down your exposed chest, stopping to tease your nipples with his tongue once more before he sat up, gaze meeting yours, a lazy smirk on his face as he took in your disheveled appearance. A surge of pride swelled in his chest at the sight of you, knowing he was the one responsible.

“Binnie,” you cooed, reaching out for him. He took your hand, bringing your palm to his face and kissing it. “What is it, bunny?” he asked softly, lacing his fingers with yours. Your heart skipped a beat at the intimate gesture, wondering if this meant more to him than you initially thought.

“Are you sure about this?” you asked as he pulled your skirt down past your knees, tossing it aside before pulling his sweatshirt over his head. “Yes,” he answered, discarding the top on the floor with the rest of your clothes. He leaned over pressing light kisses up your body, ghosting over your chest briefly before he met your lips. You giggled as his hands slid up your sides, tickling you.

“I’ve never been more sure than I am now,” he added, mumbling against your lips. “I’ve wanted you for longer than I’d like to admit,” he continued, hands pushing his waistband down with one hand. “Where did you say you keep the condoms?” he asked, pulling back to meet your gaze.

“Back of the top drawer,” you said, pointing at your bedside table. Changbin scrambled over to the side of the bed, pulling open the drawer and finding the box. He grabbed one, putting the corner of the packet between his teeth as he quickly stripped himself of his pants and underwear before joining you on the bed once more. He tore open the foil packet with his teeth, removed the condom, and rolled it down his length slowly, avoiding your gaze.

Finally he tossed the remnants of the condom wrapper aside, promising he would clean them up later as he shifted into place, grabbing you by the thighs and tugging you closer in one motion, demonstrating his strength. “I promised I’ll be gentle,” he said softly. “But if I start to get out of control, just tell me, alright?” he asked softly, stroking the skin of your thighs. You nodded, licking your lips.

“I will,” you said softly. “But I should tell you something,” you added, watching as he tilted his head curiously. “What’s that?” he asked. “I like it a little rough.” Changbin let out a groan, fingers digging into your thighs. “You shouldn’t say things like that,” he said, taking his cock in one hand, guiding the head to your slit. “Makes me want to ruin you.”

You let out a moan as you felt the head of his cock push into you, thighs instinctively squeezing his hips. “You’re tense,” he noted as he felt your walls grip him tightly. “Relax for me,” he added in a soothing tone. “I don’t wanna hurt you.” You took a couple deep breaths, forcing your body to relax, your grip on his cock lessening. “That’s it,” Changbin whispered. “Good girl.”

He pushed in further and it took all of your concentration to relax and not start tensing up again. “Fuck,” he groaned as he slid in without resistance. “Such a good little bunny,” he murmured. The pet name made you moan, clenching around him involuntarily. “Don’t do that,” he grunted, hips meeting the back of your thighs as he bottomed out. “I’m trying not to cum and if you keep doing that,” he said as your walls tightened around him again. “I won’t last.”

“S-sorry,” you stammered, waiting for your bodies to adjust to one another. Changbin let go of your thighs, instead, his hands moving to your hips. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he said softly, admiring every inch of skin he could touch. “I could stay like this forever,” he added. “Spend all night fucking you.”

“You’re so fucking beautiful. All your curves, all of this,” he said, running his hands up to your chest, giving you a soft squeeze before moving back down to your hips. “I love every single bit of it.” Your cheeks burned. “Even if I’m not the —” his hand moved to your face, pressing a finger against your lips. “I don’t want to hear it,” he said. “Your body is beautiful. All of it. You are beautiful.”

You nodded, letting his words sink in.

He gave you a thrust, testing the waters and when you moaned instead of wincing, he set a steady pace, hands moving up to your waist as your own hands gripped the sheets. “Oh s-shit,” you gasped, pleasure building in the pit of your stomach, a heat settling in your belly as the pace slowly increased. Changbin slowed down, letting out a chuckle when you pouted.

“I told you,” he said softly. “I’m not trying to cum immediately.”

His pace continued at a slow pace but each thrust was hard and powerful, making you see stars. “Ch-Changbin,” you whined. “Yeah, baby?” he asked breathlessly as he continued, his hips not faltering once. “M-more,” you whimpered. “More? You want more?” he asked. “More of what? Gotta be specific, sweetheart.”

Your cheeks burned under his gaze as he waited for a response. “F-faster,” you finally managed to squeak out. Changbin chuckled but obliged, giving in to your request easily. The room filled with the sound of skin against skin but not loud enough to drown out your moans. As he reached a fast but comfortable pace, you let out a loud moan, shocking yourself. You quickly raised your hand to cover your mouth but Changbin grabbed your wrist, pinning your hand against the bed.

“Don’t cover your mouth,” he said, shaking his head as he leaned over you, pounding into you, the sound of the bed hitting the wall made your cheeks burn even more. “I want everyone to know how good I make you feel.”

You moaned loudly, unrestrained. “P-pin me down,” you said suddenly, making him hesitate for a moment before he grabbed your other wrist and pinned it down, continuing to fuck you into the sheets. “You’re so strong,” you moaned, thighs squeezing his sides. Changbin let out a groan, cock twitching inside you. He pulled out quickly, making you whine in protest but he was quick to switch places, guiding you to sit on top of him.

“Ride me,” he said. You nodded, aligning his tip with your hole and sinking down on him, letting out a moan as his cock filled your cunt. “Fuck, that’s it, baby. Go on,” he said as you steadied yourself, placing your hands on the bed and raising your hips. Changbin’s hands ghosted over your hips, guiding your movements until you had set a pace.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty on top of me like this,” he groaned, bucking his hips to match your movements. “I like this. Can focus on touching you,” he continued, moving his hands up to cup your chest, kneading your breasts. “You can’t pin me like this, though,” you whined, making him chuckle. “You like that?” he asked breathlessly. “Like it when I hold you down?” You nodded. “I do. Makes me feel so weak.”

Changbin let out a groan, his hands moving, taking your hands. “I could hold your wrists,” he offered. “Or if you’re good and keep riding me like this, I promise I’ll pin you down and fuck you rough, like you want. Just keep going,” he said, placing your hands on his chest. “Keep going.”

You rolled your hips, chasing your high as he nodded and encouraged you. “That’s it, bunny, cum for me and then I’ll pin you down and fuck you just how you want it.” Your eyes fluttered shut as your thighs started to shake. “I-I’m close!” you gasped. “It’s okay. Go ahead and let go, baby.” You let out a moan as your orgasm washed over you. You hadn’t even fully finished when Changbin had flipped you over, pinning your wrists above your head as he took over.

He fucked you through your high, chasing his own as he pounded into you. “Fuck,” he cursed. “So fucking good,” he continued. “Gonna cum again?” he asked, feeling your cunt convulsing around him. “Y-yes!” you cried out, your voice bouncing off the walls of your apartment. “Be good and cum for me,” he grunted.

You grabbed his hand, guiding it to your throat and he understood without you saying a word. He squeezed gently and a moment later, you came undone once more but this time, Changbin went over the edge with you, releasing into the condom with a moan as his hips continued to thrust weakly until he finally came to a stop, panting as you both let your orgasms sweep over you.

The hand around your throat moved, cupping the back of your neck instead as Changbin pressed a kiss to your forehead. He released your wrists and pulled out of you carefully. Your eyes fluttered shut as he moved about, discarding the condom. He returned to the bed a moment later, helping you into a pair of underwear and an oversized shirt. “We should shower,” you whined as he joined you on the bed.

“Hmm, later,” he replied, wrapping an arm around your midsection and pulling you into him. “It’s late, let’s just sleep,” he added and before you could agree or protest, slumber welcomed you.

The next morning you woke up first and carefully got up, heading to the bathroom to do your business. Afterwards, you returned to bed, settling under the covers with Changbin, accidentally waking him in the process. “Sorry,” you whispered as you snuggled up next to him. Changbin murmured under his breath and pulled you in closer, wrapping his arms around you.

“I spent the night,” he finally said and you nodded. “Yes,” you answered, looking up at him. “You did.”

He looked down at you as a silence fell over you. “I guess we should probably discuss what this means…” he trailed off as you smiled and pressed a kiss to his lips. “It can mean whatever you want it to mean,” you replied. “If you aren’t looking for a relationship and only want a fuck buddy, I’m fine with that.” Changbin winced at the crude remark. “Or if you’d rather it be a one time thing, I’m okay with that, too.”

“I don’t,” Changbin said quickly. “I don’t want it to be a one time thing.” You smiled at him as he spoke. “But I’m not sure if I want a relationship either,” he continued. You pulled him into a kiss before rolling him onto his back as you straddled his hips. “Well, take your time,” you suggested. “Figure out what you want.” You leaned over to kiss him again, trailing your lips down his neck to his chest.

“It’s not like I’m going anywhere any time soon.”

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multiwreckedmess · 2 months ago

Text

Kinktober Day 28

Prompt: Cockbulge Pairing: idol!Mingi x costumer!Reader WC: 4k Summary: It’s not that you’re a prude, you just want to make sure Mingi knows that everyone can see everything when he wears those velvet pants. Unfortunately for you, he likes it that way.

This is a work of fiction, it does not represent Mingi or any Ateez member. On top of this it is an 18+ work. For my comfort and boundaries please if you are under age do not interact with this.

I feel the need especially with “rougher” prompts like this to put the disclaimer - fanfic should NOT ever be used as a guide to relationships or sex. ESPECIALLY SEX. Again, it’s fiction. Stuff gets glossed over for the sake of a good story. Please PLEASE please again, not fact, not a guide, just a fantasy.

Additional TW/CW under the cut.

TW/CW: Reader is described with fem sex characteristics, Mingi has a big dick, sort of painful sex, drunk sex, adversarial sex, both parties are into it. Mingi is a bit of an egotistical shit. Cumming inside. Oral (m receiving). Unrealistic bulging.

potential writing pet peeve warning - i try to write drunk slurring into the dialogue seewwwww. yeah.

It was apparent to you that no one had ever talked to Mingi about the importance of a dance belt. Sitting in the darkness of the audience as the boys lined up for their costume checks, the lines of his “little Mingi” pressing against the lush baby blue velvet interrupted the flow of the fabric. You jot down on the yellow legal pad “ask manager-nim to talk to the boys about proper undergarments.”

Cornering Mingi alone is a process that you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy. He’s a social butterfly, always entertaining himself by chatting with one person or another. Traveling in a pack or duo no matter where he went. The clock was ticking and you could feel each second pulse deep in your chest. Donning a measuring tape and tucking a pencil behind your to look more official you finally screw up the nerve to grab him from the hallway into the dressing room. “Mingi! I just need a quick second from you, if you can. Privately?” Smiling, you try to look nonchalant in front of the two others in his current circle. The man sticks out his lower lip in an over dramatic pout but as your face remains neutral he gives into the request quickly. “Why in private, miss?” Mingi asks, dressing room door snapping shut with a swift click. You clear your throat and try to be anywhere but here, in this moment. “What do you know about dance belts Mingi?” He blinks a couple times and pouts. “Aren’t they like…thongs that squeeze your junk?” The tone of his voice matches the distaste that crosses his face. “Well, kind of. They don’t have to be thongs but-” you stutter, searching for your next move. Mingi continues to look at you, expression blank as he waits for you to collect yourself. “You know you have a nice body right?” He nods. “Really nice long-” you choke and rethink the approach again. “-trench coats look on you. I mean most things do. But. You see- when you dance and sometimes when you stand and really it’s probably just the lights but for me-” you shake your head. No not for you. “-for an experiment have you ever thought or considered wearing one?” “One what?” Mingi looks as lost and confused as your babbling. “The velvet pants. We can see it.” “It?” “Your…your penis, Mingi, we can damn near trace every vein for some reason. Can you please wear a dance belt?” Mingi smirks. Cocking an eyebrow at you as the heat of embarrassment strangles you. “Did you like the show, miss?” He bites at the skin of his lower lip, eyes flitting from your stunned face to his crotch. Weight shifting back onto his heels, you realize just how tall he is, even standing relaxed like this. “Mingi I- oh my god- can you just wear one?” He nods with some consideration, “do I have a choice?” “Obviously, it’s your underwear.” “Then no.”

Mingi watches you through the dressing room mirror even as the makeup artist drags pink lipstain over his lush lips. As soon as he’s done with makeup he starts palming himself through the velvet pants. Letting his cock chub up and strain further against the fabric. Now that he knew that it was seen, he had to be sure that he was fully ready for the show. He studies your face as the heel of his palm pushes against the shaft, watching you glare back through the glass, challenging his gaze. He likes that you’re watching him, even if it’s with disdain. The subtle touch isn’t enough to get him fully anywhere, but still it twitches in interest.

You continue to glare as he rises from his chair and sidles over to you. Side bag full with a mini kit strapped to your hip, you glance around the room. Everyone else is too busy with their own preparations to notice the tension growing between the two of you as the distance decreases. Remaining seated in your folding chair you refuse to jolt up to attention, no matter how much your legs want to. “I’m assuming you need me to stitch you in?” Searching your bag for the needle already threaded with the matching powder blue of his pants. All in the name of preserving the carefully tucked hem of the shirt as the artist danced on stage. “Last thing I have to do.” It doesn’t escape Mingi that you’ve been pointedly looking anywhere but below the belt on him as your fingers carefully pluck the fabric of his shirt and pants together. .“Haven’t you wondered how big it is? I assume you’ve thought about it if you’ve been looking.”

“I try not to actually-” you mean to explain how you try to not look at him that way, anywhere near that way, that it was actually him who was making it more difficult for you to not look there. Instead he interrupts you with a smile. “So you do think about my cock. Noted.” He’s slick and cocky. “Mingi that’s not what I-” part of you wants to stab him with your needle. “Thanks for telling me about these pants,” he nods down at you, “gives me time to make sure I look good from all angles.” You can’t hold the exaggerated roll of your eyes. Close like this you can almost see the veins running up it, its almost comically large in comparison to his muscular frame. “As long as it still fits-” you start to sigh, alluding to the obvious compression of the fabric. “I’ve always been able to make it fit.” He drops it so nonchalantly, winking with his tongue out. Sitting there frozen, your cheeks heat up, a loud gulp echoing through your fuzzy skull. Okay so maybe you want him. Maybe his cocksuredness had won you over despite how stupidly audacious he was. EIther way you were completely embarrassed and kneeling eye level with his bulge. At this angle, you start to understand why people of all genders throw themselves at this massive loser of a man. At this angle he looks more massive than loser. You cough and resume your work, averting your eyes as much as you can Was he even wearing underwear? The thought enrages you for a second, getting ball sweat on his fucking costume. That second of rage is enough for you to channel that flicker into a particularly pointed jab through the fabric and into your finger. “Fuck-cock-shit-” you swear and suck your wounded digit, scowling at nothing in particular. Mingi’s hand wraps around your arm and lifts you from your knees. A sudden caring gesture from the giant. “Is it ok?” “Yeah, it’s good luck to get costumer’s blood on your outfit anyway,” you mutter. Still scowling down at the pearl of blood you push to the surface to gingerly stick the finger back in your mouth. He didn’t need luck. You did. Hiccuping your way down the hall of the hotel the company had reserved the golden numbers listed on the doors blur together. Exhaustion and drunkness threaten to consume your legs from underneath you as the walls sway. Your roommate had left the afterparty earlier than you, assuming that you wouldn’t self sabotage. That was her mistake. When the drinks are free and the next day is taken up by airports and hotels, there was no reason for you to stay remotely sober. Not with the hard road ahead of you. You fully lean against the wall as you rummage through your tote bag. Fucking needed to replace it. No pockets. It was a black hole which ate all it came in contact with. You start patting your body. You must’ve put your keycard somewhere. You lightly tap on the door to no response. Knocking harder still you hear someone say to come in. A man. Which is strange but maybe not that strange? You knock again. Clad in the hotel branded bathrobe and fisting a can of beer your eyes meet the chest of…not your roommate. You start your slurred apology before the person tugs you into the room. “Are you crazy? Do you know what time it is? We’re both going to get in trouble.” Blinking to clear your vision you stop apologizing long enough to look up into the face of Song Mingi. His skin is freshly washed and pink, chest bare beneath the robe. “Yer the one who pull’d me’in here,” you slur. “You’re lucky that I’m the door you knocked on. It could’ve been much worse.” It’s impossible to control your burst of laughter, loud and punchy. “Worse? Yeeer the guy whoz been TORMENTING me with his dick. Every day it’s just- dick and cock.” Poor Mingi, who’d been sipping the dregs of his beer, nearly spits the rest to the floor as the words leave your mouth. This tiny thing rambling drunkenly about his member in a fit of rage is immediately hilarious to him. “I knew it. I knew you wanted to fuck me” “Asssssss if,” you sneer. “It’s just morbid curiosity. Nothing more. You’re like a-a-a-well something you can’t look away from thats just so repulsive it’s like- I want to-need to stare.” Mingi fully laughs, his eyes turning into little crescents as he fights tears of pure joy. “Do you want to just look? I have no problem showing you.” “Whaddya mean,” you stare at him crossly, leaning forward to try to look intimidating. “Don’tcha think I’ve seen bigger?” Biting the corner of his bottom lip he glances down his loosely drawn robe. Holding the can of beer suggestively close to himself he looks meaningfully back up into your eyes. “You have to ask. Won’t do anything without you asking for it.” Now or never. Do or die. The liquid courage coursing in your veins the next words out of your mouth should feel like more of a mistake than they do. “Alright, if yerr soooo proud of it. Show it.” Mingi’s robe parts just down to his belly button. His body is naturally nice, not especially built but made of lean dancer muscle. Still keeping just the little bit of softness that makes you want to wrap yourself around him and- “What do you want me to show exactly?” He bites his lip and grins. The fucker. You roll your eyes back at him and swat at his stomach, “your fucking dick you dick. Show me before I get bored and leave.” His lip bounces free of his teeth. Fuck, you want to kiss him and ride him til he cries. The twist of anticipation tightens in your gut not even daring to look where his hands travel down. You can see his muscles tense as he undoes the knot in the belt. “You’re not even looking,” he watches you intently as the belt goes slack. Your chest rises and falls with quickened nervous breaths. Eyes darting everywhere but there as your tough facade shakes. Mingi steps closer, it’s easier to avoid looking now that his body is almost touching yours. The warmth rolls off of him, his hand finding yours. “Wanna touch first?” You nod, letting him place your hand up square on top of his sternum. His heart beats fast under your fingers. Or maybe you’re still feeling your own. Trailing down the smooth expanse slowly, his mouth hung loosely open as he breathes, letting you take your time. “‘S hot,” you mutter, unaware your inner monologue had leaked out. “We can do something about that.” “Yeah, okay.” Mingi’s hips press into yours and he pulls you by your belt loops back into his room with him. Your addled brain screams curses in as many languages as you can summon as his extremely obvious bulge presses against your stomach. He’s actually fucking huge. He wasn’t bluffing or stuffing or exaggerating in the slightest. He smirks listening to your gasp as you waddle to the bed, still connected at the hips. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Mingi tugs you over his thighs letting you do the towering for once as he leans back on his elbows. “You can’t say anything about this.” “Same to you, dickwad,” you spit back quickly. “If I catch you bragging to anyone, I’ll sew your inseam so fucking high-” Mingi laughs, “are you giving me the NDA speech?” “Abso-fucking-lutely,” you place your hand on his chest to steady yourself as you wind your hips. The bulge below you feels like heaven. “Ah! Shit-jeans-off-,” Mingi chokes back a whine, “please. Hurts-” He looks like a rockstar, robe sprawled open and cock throbbing caged in his black boxer-briefs. Once you’ve looked at it you can’t stop staring. The seams of his underwear fit snugly around his thighs as his length strains against the fabric. The elastic of the waistband barely hangs on as his cock continues to grow. “God yer fuckin’ huge,” your mouth waters as you stumble, jeans getting stuck at your ankles, hand steadying you on his thigh. “Yeah, I know. You scared?” He asks, eyes half lidded. He almost sounds hopeful. “Issa trick oftha ligh’ errr…the stitching.” You fumble through loose excuses. He really can’t win this early, you curse your drunk tongue for letting the words slip. “Touch it then, scaredy cat.” Defiant look in your eye, your fingers skim his quads. His eyes close and brow furrows as you get closer and closer. He’s trying to hold back but the twitch of his hips betrays him, small choked whine catching in his throat. It’s hard to contain your devilish grin as you palm him and feel it throb against you. “Now ‘o can’ look, scaredy cat. Imma ride yew wouldn’ surVIVE.”

Mingi’s abs kick in as he tenses. “Why are you like this? Can’t you just admit it. I won.” ‘Yer gunna cum in yer fucking boxers. Issat really winning?” For added measure you lean over and press your lips to the stretched fabric. Mingi lets a pained noise out of his nose, chest heaving. “Do it again.” You make a show of it, pulling the fabric taut as you kiss up the length of the bulge. Its difficult to see much as you look upwards, more for the effect than the ability, but you can gauge his reaction by the way his thighs tense at your sides. A sick satisfaction wraps itself around your neck, this man who has only been trouble for you writhing in your grasp. The veins running up his lengths pulse prominently against your lips as you kiss the clothed lump again. Mingi’s toes tap rapidly in frustration. “Please.” You want him to beg louder. As uncomfortable as it is you drag your tongue up the fabric listening to his reedy breaths. Fingers looping behind the elastic waistband of his underwear you tug it down his hips letting the excess catch over the head of his dick. A small dark patch forms as his hips buck up into your face, into the cloth. His pleas come out in muffled consonants caught, bitten, between his lips. Mingi pants. “I need-pleasepleaseplease-hurts-”

In a single swift tug you free his cock, springing back up against his stomach with a thwack. Pink tip turned an angry red, it continues to leak as you salivate over it. Fantastically thick, veiny, and tapered neatly it takes two of your hands to wrap around the length and hold it up. “See?” He huffs triumphantly. “‘M big.” “-hands jus’ small.” You spit onto his length and pump it. “‘Ve seen bigger.” A lie. Your lips curve around the tip, barely taking the first quarter of him into your mouth before you give up, cheeks ballooning comically. Mingi angles his cock to hit the inside of your cheek, watching the swell and cave as he thrusts upwards to meet you. He likes to see how taut he can make it. Your spit leaks down and around him, onto your small fists working the substantial amount of him that can’t fit into your mouth. “You think you can take me?” The words were meant to be a challenge but sound more hopeful as they leave his mouth. Wordlessly you rise from the floor to straddle him, his hands wandering your body, drinking in as much as they can take. Groping and moaning you rut against each other, slicking up his length with your release. “Wanna see how big I can stretch you baby. Think I can make that cute lil tummy bulge? Think you can take all of me? God, I wanna see you try.” His hands squeeze your ass and thighs, squishing the flesh between his fingers. You lean backwards, wedging the head of his cock against your tight entrance. The spongy tip just barely disappears into your slit, Mingi takes the perverse pleasure of watching you wince as it pops in and out of your tight ring of muscle. “That’s just the tip and you’re already tapping out?” He goads.

Determined, you slide forward more and take more of him, sucking air through your teeth. Your folds strain to accommodate him, ridges and veins throbbing as you try to stuff more of him into your stretched walls. They throb, he throbs back. Mingi’s thumb rubs circles over your clit almost as an apology of sorts. “‘M not done,” you grit your teeth defiantly. “I c’n take more.” The second he sees your jaw drop in silent pain he grabs your by your hips to hold you aloft. Concern washes through his body. Most people at this point tapped out, about three quarters of the way down, really any farther than half was just for show. There’s no point but pride. Besides that the sight of your folds wrapped snugly around him, juices dripping down towards the base, is enough to have his head cottony. It was really even enough for him to just watch it go in, you could’ve tapped out at the tip and he’d have been satisfied just to see you struggle with that much of him.

The alcohol has definitely done its job to cloud your discomfort as you roll and rock your hips to coax yourself the rest of the way down. Finally relaxing your burning thighs as you sit on your throne, gravity aids you in fitting him fully inside. “Ahhhoohhhh my god,” Mingi moans, nearly blacking out from the spike in blood pressure. He’s desperate not to cum now. To finish now would be akin to admitting defeat, admitting a lack of mastery over his body. His chest caves with a tense exhale. “You’re so fucking tight. I’ve gotta be the biggest you’ve ever had.” As much as you also don’t want to lose, it’s hardly in your capacity at this very moment to bluff. Your walls spasming around him is betrayal enough, much less your hand sneaking down to feel where he stretches you. “I c’n feel you,” you say in wonder with your hand over the slight distension in your pelvis. “Yer jus’ toting this thing around?” “Oh fuck-yeah.” It’s not meant to be an answer to your question. He’s biting his lower lip to keep himself focused as you gyrate. No matter how wet you are, the vice grip your cunt has on him as you slide yourself back and forth has him grasping at the edges of insanity. Part of him wants to tell you to just use him, treat yourself. The other part is feels the primal urge, the singular goal, to fuck you so hard he leaves a lasting impression no other man could fill. Without thinking his hands migrate to your waist, bruising grip egging on your winding ministrations. Legs weak and wobbly already you collapse forward and brace yourself, both hands on the headboard. This obscures the view of his own cock spearing you just enough to reverse the stun locked man into action. Holding you in place his hips jut up into you, each thrust punching out more air from your lungs until you're barely able to hold yourself up. “Mingi, mingi, MINGI. Holy shit- holy fuck- listen-oh fuck-” legs shaking so violently you can barely hold the rest of your body together, the spring inside you snaps violently back into place. Sparkling sobriety hits for a second before a cockdrunken wanton fog settles in the space the drink had left.

Mingi is smooth with the transition to fucking you, he has extra length to work with. You feel almost seasick as you spin back into the cushiony mattress, unsure of how your legs ended up in the air with your muscles suddenly getting to relax. “You wanna know how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he asks through gritted teeth. Slowly he drags his length along your walls, pushing your shirt up to see the small bulge he makes in your lower stomach. “God I’m going to fucking enjoy taking you apart like this.” “Oh my god, Mingi-” you whine, clasping your hands over your burning face, embarrassed at how good he’s making you feel. He bats your arms to the side and pointedly rolls his hips again. “No, you’ve been such a bitch to me this whole tour, I wanna see you with a smile on your face.” Your eyes roll back and he thrusts deeper, the force driving your hips higher up into the air. “Oh fuck me- Mingi-” “Tell me how big I am.” “God damn it, you’re fucking big.” “How big?” His hips drive the point home, your stomach bulging. “I’m the biggest you’ve had, right?” His cock bruises your gut, punching up into you like the monster he is. The threads of sanity that you cling to pull apart with each drag back. To add insult to injury, he doesn’t even watch your expression any more, eyes locked to your lips stretched around him, sucking him back into your velvety walls. “Yeah, fuck, okay. The biggest. Fuck me. Oh I can feel you.” You practically gurgle as he fully sheathes himself again. Mingi pats the protrusion of your stomach as he keeps his hips tight to yours, rutting into his own palm through you. Your warm wet heat feels delicious wrapped around him. There was a world somewhere where he could afford to be totally obsessed with this, with you. You shiver and clamp around him again, knees pinching his hips. “Did you just cum again?” Eyes half closed you nod. “That’s hot.” “Don’ stop. Please.”

Normally rebellious to your requests, Mingi follows this one to a tee. Holding your hips in his massive hands he pulls them up even more, almost stacking on top of you. With the change of angle he’s perfectly positioned to piston into you unimpeded. The tip of his dick slamming straight into your frontal wall as you choke on your own breaths. The world spins as your oxygen dwindles and alcohol remnants drown your inhibitions. Chanting his name like the crowds do nightly you shake. Your climax hits the both of you like a train. Mingi can’t hold himself back, your tight walls milking him as they pulse and pull him. “Ah shit, oh fuck,” he swears as his hips slam forward, unable to turn off his primal impulse to sink as far into you as physically possible. Pumping you full he’s near to passing out from a combination of lust and exhaustion. Lowering your legs and then himself, his head rests on the bed next to yours, it’s almost peaceful, almost. “Iffyou tell a soul eye’ll hem yer pants a centimeter short you big bastard. Mingi lets out a single puff of a chuckle. “Eyejusss need’d to blowoff steam. ‘Kay? One. Time. Thing.” He’s only half listening as he closes his eyes and yields into your softness. Maybe one time thing. Maybe.

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