Tumgik
#he always gives us HIGH QUALITY MATERIAL
letsgogatsebenguys · 1 year
Text
youtube
👏
2 notes · View notes
kiwi-bitchez · 3 months
Text
The Girlfriend Experience
Tumblr media
Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: Eddie doesn’t think he’s cut out for dating. Self-resigned to a life of one and done hookups, you’re determined to make him see that he has the capacity to be a worthy companion… for when the right girl comes around. Fake Dating AU, classic corny fic for a fav corny troupe, Stranger Things canon divergent ofc, 18+ smut (see warnings below), big dick energy but also slightly emotionally unavailable!Eddie, yada yada yada, you know the drill. 
Content warnings: AFAB reader with she/her pronouns, use of y/n, alcohol, smoking the devil’s lettuce, mention of panty stealing, food consumption, semi-public sex, fingering, PIV, Dom-ish!Eddie, oral (m and f receiving), pierced dick Eddie because I said so!, unprotected PIV sex, hair pulling, mild angst but nothing too angsty just like one heated conversation and Eddie feeling a little worthless but happy ending I promise
Word Count: 20k ahhhhhh!!!
A/N: Thanks to all those who comment and reblog! Your feedback and engagement makes my heart soar and keeps me motivated to write this filth! Sorry for the gargantuan length, in very-me fashion I always ending up writing one behemoth fic every so often rather than just separating it out into chapters. Also, realizing after the fact that I use the brand name ‘Goodwill’ a lot in this fic, which maybe not everyone might know is a thrift store, not sure if that’s just an American thing or not but figured it was worth noting. 
“I guess I’m just not boyfriend material, ya know?” Eddie shrugs.
“Don’t say that, Eds,” your eyebrows pinched together, “different qualities are important to different people. Not everyone is looking to date a Steve, or a Brian, or a whoever. I’m sure someone is out there looking for an Eddie.”
“It’s not that,” he shot a look towards Steve, who, despite your analogy, was unfortunately everyone’s type and the textbook definition of boyfriend material.
“I just don’t think I’d be very good at gooey romance stuff, or even like, passable boyfriend behavior. I mean, look at me, I hardly take care of myself, I’m loud, I have no money, I’m basically every dad’s worst nightmare, do I need to keep going?”
“The nightmare thing can actually be a bonus,” Steve chimes in, “the whole bad boy persona can be a huge draw for most girls.”
“Sure Steve,” Eddie’s voice grows exasperated, “I’m the mysterious bad boy until they realize I’m a huge loser who runs not one but two dungeons and dragons groups. Real fuckin’ attractive I’m sure that is.”
“Shows you’re committed to something…” you trail off when his eyes tell you to stop coming up with a positive spin for every excuse he gives. 
This whole discussion had started because of something that happened at the bar last night. A small group of you decided to meet up for drinks, your usual group of pals. It was a Thursday, so the bar wasn’t too busy. Your friends all squished into a booth in the corner, chatting and catching up over a plate of shared nachos, when Robin started making frantic gesture at you and Steve.
“Please just say what you’re trying to say instead of this elaborate charade,” Steve makes a few mocking hand signals back at her.
“Okay, one at a time, and keep it subtle,” her voice lowered to a whisper, for some reason, “over at the bar, some girl is totally flirting with Eddie.”
You and Steve both turn around. “I said not at the same time!” She whisper yells. 
There was, in fact, a pretty girl with shiny hair and glossy lips doing a half fake laugh and pressing her manicured hand to Eddie’s bicep. You whip back around to find Robin with her mouth hanging open in a “can you believe this is happening” way. 
“Good for him,” Steve swivels back around too, “She’s pretty hot.”
You return to your nachos, pretending there wasn’t a ping of jealousy in you. Eddie was your friend, that had been made abundantly clear.
When Robin introduced you to all her friends from high school, you had easily gotten along with all of them. You especially got along with Eddie. He was funny, authentic, abrasive at times, but a truly good person at his core, creative, protective, you could go on.
After getting to know him a bit, and developing a budding crush, you had made a few passes at him. Nothing too forward, just small compliments here and there, open ended offers to hang out that never lead anywhere.
It’s not like he flat out rejected you, but any feelers you were putting out to see if there was potential there were met with him looking past your flirtatious intent and just being his goofy, friendly self. He treated you exactly the same way he treated everyone else, which was awesome, except for when it wasn’t. 
“Oh no,” Robin’s gaze was not subtly fixed on the unfolding scene at the bar, you and Steve watched her face drastically shift from confused, to a cringe, to an eye roll.
Still half whispering, as if Eddie could even hear your corner of the bar, “He’s totally blowing it. DON’T both turn around at the same time again.” 
“Okay, so,” she starts before either of you can even confirm that you want to know, “she was totally laying it on thick, like you could see it from all the way back here. And he must have said something off putting, cuz all of a sudden she like went cold on him and pranced away. Shhhhh, okay okay, he’s coming back.”
She was acting as if she wasn’t the only one gossiping. You and Steve were innocent bystanders in all this. 
“WHAT was that?” She immediately blurts out when Eddie returns to his seat, fresh drink in hand. 
You and Steve share a side glance to sigh at Robin’s inability to be subtle, god bless her. Eddie shifts around awkwardly and lets out a forced dry laugh, taking a long sip from his drink before facing the wrath of a curious Robin. 
“Oh, that,” he gestures to the bar as if she could be asking about anything else, “some girl. Not sure.”
“Not sure? Eddie she was FLIRTING with you,” Robin all but yelled, causing Steve to scan the bar to see if the girl in question had landed somewhere within earshot. 
“I know that,” he hisses, “She just… wasn’t my type…”
“Okay sure, hot girl in a tube top and no bra isn’t your type, riiiiight,” Steve rolls his eyes.
“It’s just,” Eddie was so over this inquisition, “she asked if I wanted to get coffee.”
You, Steve, and Robin all give him a blank stare, trying to decipher what he could possibly have against getting coffee with a hot girl. 
“That’s like,” he gets defensive, detecting the wall of confusion facing him, “something people do on a date. Coffee is serious, and I’m not a very serious guy.”
“What do you mean ‘coffee is serious,’ coffee is like, as casual as you can possibly be?” Steve’s tone now emulated Robin’s from earlier, half whispering, half yelling, all scolding towards his friend. 
“That��s just not really my speed. Coffee dates and flowers and hand holding and all that,” he was avoiding eye contact with all three of you, “Yeah, she was hot, sure, and maybe if she had been like ‘hey lets go fool around in the bathroom’ then I wouldn’t be here having this lame ass conversation with you three. But I don’t do coffee dates, so I’m not gonna waste her time and pretend like I’m that sort of guy when I’m just not.” 
“Well good on you for not leading her on, cuz I’m sure you could have agreed to the coffee date and still gotten lucky in the bathroom,” Steve mumbles, and you smack the back of his head lightly to scold him. 
“So you only date girls who’ll fuck you in a bar bathroom the first time you meet?” You redirect your now equally scolding energy to Eddie.
“No!” He runs his hands through his hair, “I don’t date. Anyone, really. At all. Ever.”
“Oh,” you think for a minute, realizing in your few years of friendship you never had seen him with anyone, or heard him mention a romantic interest of any sort. 
Leading you to your present conversation, you and Steve continuing to question Eddie on his decision to reject the hot tube-top girl at the bar and why he felt like coffee was such a scary commitment. 
“You guys know me,” he continued to defend his stance, “If I took that girl out for coffee she probably would have picked some fancy hoity toity place and I wouldn’t know what anything on the menu meant, I’d probably spill something or like, get crumbs everywhere, and the bill would be way more than two coffees should be. It would have been a waste of both our time.”
He was staunchly refusing eye contact with the two of you, knowing he’d be met with something along the lines of pity. 
“Fine, we’ll drop the subject,” you shoot a look to Steve, “but I just need to make sure you understand that not every girl likes expensive coffee, or flowers and handholding, or whatever your expectation of girls and dating is. There’s plenty of girls who have similar interests to you, who feel the same way about PDA and mushy romance stuff that you do. You do know that, right?”
“Of course I do, y/n,” you could practically feel his eyes rolling at you, “but girls like that sure as fuck aren’t here in Nowhere, Indiana. Even if she was, I’m sure I’d still find a way to fuck it up given that I’ve had exactly zero serious girlfriends and the closest thing to a date I’ve ever been on is when you me and Steve pooled our ski ball tickets to win that ugly stuffed turtle.”
The memory of what you had all agreed to be the world’s ugliest stuffed animal caused all of you to crack a smile. Steve had silently agreed to change the subject, not wanting to dig Eddie any deeper into his pit of self despair. 
Steve’s mouth was half open, about to suggest that the three of you have a smoke and watch one of the rental movies he brought over, the words just about to escape him when you harshly cut off any chance at ending the pity-party.
“Date me!” You exclaim, without much thought. The shocked look from both boys caused you to rapidly back pedal , “You can date me, as practice!” You said it as if it was the simplest concept in the world. 
When met with gaping mouths and confused stares you continue on, “You and I can be fake boyfriend-girlfriend for like, a month, and I’ll tell you everything you do wrong, and like generic do’s and don’t’s, so that way the next time some hot girl hits on you, you can be all like ‘Coffee isn’t really my thing pretty lady, but I’d be down to get drinks sometime’,” you did a silly impression of Eddie’s voice, and then switched to a high pitched one to impersonate what you assumed the girl at the bar sounded like, “and then she’d be all like, ‘Oh yeah that sounds greaaaaat, getting coffee is just like, a generic catch-all thing that most people say when they want to get to know someone better, but you can buy me a drink’ and then the two of you will ride off into the sunset and it’ll be great.”
Still no reply.
“It won’t be all romantic and gooey, I promise I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to. It’d be a way for you to get some honest feedback and catch up with the stuff most people have to learn the hard way.” 
“I suppose you are the most brutally honest person I know,” Eddie doesn’t sound convinced. 
Steve just looked between the two of you with eyebrows raised, not knowing if giving his opinion on the matter would be appreciated or not. “I guess I would’ve appreciated someone telling me that most girls don’t want to be asked out with a pickup line from a John Hughes movie, would have saved me a few dozen rejections.”
“I’m pretty sure Robin did tell you that…”
“I don’t know y/n,” Eddie scratches his head. 
“It’ll be easy. Ask me out.”
“Huh?”
“Ask me out, for practice, ask me out on a date like I’m a pretty girl you met at some metal show or a DnD convention or something like that,” you stand in front of him with your hands out as if to prompt him to say something. 
“Will you go out with me?” He sounds more like he’s asking himself if he even wants to be asking the question.
“No.”
“What the hell!” He throws his hands up.
“I said no because that wasn’t a very good effort. Go out where? To do what? You’re asking me, a pretend stranger, out on a date Eddie, not if I want to go have a smoke with you.”
“Ughhhh,” he spun around and tried to get some sympathy for Steve, who unfortunately was on your side with this one. 
“A compliment or two doesn’t hurt as well,” Steve added, deepening Eddie’s groan. 
“Hey pretty stranger lady,” his voice was laced with sarcasm, but at least it wasn’t disdain, “you seem really…” he hesitated to find his words, “cool? Would you like to come see my band play this weekend at The Hideout? We-“
“No,” you cut him off.
“WHA-“
“Eddie, you can’t ask a girl to watch Corroded Coffin play for your first date with her, that’s like date four or five material, no girl wants to go sit by herself at a bar to watch some guy she just met play an hour of heavy metal. She would have to know you a little bit more for that to feel organic. Pick something more generic, like coffee.”
“I think you seem cool, would you like to get coffee with me?” it all came out as one monotone mumble from him. 
“Sure,” you wait for him to lift his head up to make eye contact with you, “But coffee isn’t really my thing, maybe we can go out for drinks?”
“Oh fuck off,” he flopped back onto the couch next to Steve. 
“See, now we have our first fake date, and then you can ask me to be your fake girlfriend, and then you’ll be so comfortable with emotional vulnerability that you can find a real girlfriend to take on real dates.”
“Yeah, I suppose it could be beneficial,” Eddie was slowly coming around to the idea. He knew that he was oddly charismatic at times, but he was just always too self conscious to follow through with the whole romance thing.
This maybe wasn’t a bad idea, because he knew you weren’t the kind of person who would make fun of his hobbies, or put him down if he slipped up, the sorts of things he was always afraid of girls doing. Sure, he’ll agree to the girlfriend experience. 
After a night of movies and pizza with Steve fake-third-wheeling, you made sure Eddie knew that the fake-date was actually happening, that the two of you would go out for drinks this weekend as your first official practice date. 
After giving it a bit of thought, you realized that you and Eddie had never hung out alone. In your feeble attempts at flirting with him all those months ago you had invited him to have movie nights or grab a bite to eat, but he always showed up with Steve and or Robin in tow.
As the night of the fake-date rolled around, you’d be embarrassed to admit it to him, or Steve, who didn’t care to hide how skeptical he was about this whole idea, that you went through your normal pre-date routine. You took some extra time on your hair and makeup, exfoliated in the shower, chose an outfit you felt confident in, added a few spritz of perfume for good measure too. 
Eddie rolled up in his van, only a few minutes late, but a few minutes was very impressive compared to his typical chronic tardiness. The two of you agreed to just grab some food and drinks at your usual spot, considering you and Steve openly agreed that it would be a good first date spot in theory. 
“Hey,” he reaches across the center console to pop the door open for you, “you look nice.”
It took you a second to register as you settled into the passenger seat, and then whip around with your arm outstretched to give him a high five. He scrunches his face at you.
“High five me Eddie, that was really good! I know you usually open the door for me anyways, but the compliment right away, A+,” you flop your hand down to gently slap his, still gripping the steering wheel. 
“Don’t patronize me, y/n,” deep down he knew you weren’t trying to talk down to him, and deep down he hadn’t even given complimenting you a second thought, he really did think you looked great in your date get-up. 
On the ride over to the bar, the two of you discuss some logistics. Considering all of this is just practice dating, you don’t expect Eddie to pay for you, but you explain that in theory if he had been the one to ask you out then he should be the one to pay for the first date. 
“To me it’s less of a gender thing and more of a who asked out who thing, but I know some people would abide to the stereotypical ‘the man always pays’ standard, which is why you’d just have to be honest on date like two or three about what you enjoy doing and what sorts of things are in your budget. You can still have fun and be thoughtful without spending a lot of money.”
He asked a few questions, like if he should have gotten you flowers for a first date, or what he should do if someone asks to go to a fancy restaurant that he surely couldn’t afford. You tried your best to give solid advice, but always reminded him that every person is different and every relationship is different, so all he can do is be honest. 
You take up a spot at the bar and both order for yourselves, splitting some fries and slipping into some easy conversation. 
“Am I supposed to, like, beat someone up if a guy tries hitting on you in front of me or something like that?” you nearly choke on your drink at his question. 
“Eddie, no,” you answer, also questioning, “why the hell would you ask me that?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “My buddy Jeff was with his girlfriend at this punk show before they were even together, and some guy made a creepy comment to Amanda and Jeff just decked the guy in the face. He say’s that’s what made her want to date him, cuz he defended her honor or whatever.”
“I guess that’s sort of circumstantial, but I prefer my dates to not engage in any sort of violence,” you sip your drink, “even if it’s for my honor. I’d like your face a lot less if you were all bruised up.”
“Well I never said I would get hit,” the two of you were laughing a bit now.
Over a few cocktails you went over some first date etiquette with him. PDA and being touchy, how to follow her lead and gauge if she’s the type who wants everyone at the bar to know you’re together, or keep it strictly platonic to start. How far of a grip on the leg is too far up, that sort of thing.  
“So if she does something like this,” you fake laugh a bit too loud and, lean into his personal space, and then run your hand from his slender down his arm, “that doesn’t necessarily mean she wants to fuck you, but it’s pretty close. You’ve at least got a green flag to get a little closer to her, tell her she looks nice, maybe offer to buy her a drink.”
“I know how to tell if someone finds me attractive, y/n, I’m not stupid,” he said casually, “obviously that girl the other night was hitting on me, I’m not blind. I wasn’t going to ask to buy her a drink or try and get lucky in the bathroom because I was out with my friends. I can find a quick fuck in a bar on my own time. I was having fun with you guys, I wasn’t going to abandon all of you to talk to some stranger, even if she was hot.”  
“Oh,” you processed his comment, “Steve would be happy to know he ranks above tube-top girl.”
“Steve would be happy to be above tube-top girl in any context,” he jokes. 
“You really just find random girls in bars to fuck?” You question, not in any sort of judgmental way, just curious. 
“Not specifically, I guess I did make myself sound like some serial bar-bathroom type of guy. I never really had girls interested in me when I was in high school, at least the first four years of it. Then when we started playing regular gigs at The Hideout it was a little easier to find girls who were interested, but it was always that they were more into fucking some guy who could play guitar and was in a band, so it usually just always happened on-site, probably cuz they had an actual boyfriend or husband to go home to. Girls think I’m fun. Which isn’t untrue, I do enjoy a romp in the Hideout bathroom, or the back of my van, or wherever we end up.”
“So that’s what all those blankets are back there for,” you say with a fake scowl, referring to his van set-up. 
“Not exclusively! They make a cozy nest for smoking blunts and listening to tapes too!” 
You return to your drink, trying not to think too hard about the girls that Eddie brings to bar bathrooms or his van or wherever. 
“I just find the energy of those situations very different from like, talking and getting to know someone. Fucking is easy. I’m not interested in ruining that by adding emotions and the looming feeling like sex is contingent on me acting a certain way or checking a certain number of boxes for someone.” 
He shrugged, and you could understand where he was coming from, sometimes a quick fuck or hookup could be cathartic and easy. But it also saddened you to think that Eddie believed he had to get in and out before the person on the other end got the chance to know him. 
Moving away from the subject of his inability to be emotionally vulnerable, the two of you practice some cheesy ‘first date’ questions as you had called them. As your drinks started to settle into your system you were having more fun being silly with him, pretending to be a stranger on a first date. 
“When’s your birthday?” You ask, twirling your drink straw with your finger and making some fake flirty eyes at him to accentuate the facade of asking him a bunch of questions you mostly knew the answers to. 
“August 9th,” he flips his hair over his shoulder, joining in on your fake ostentatious flirting. 
“Oh my gosh, a Leo! This will never work out, cuz I’m an asparagus…”
The two of you nearly fall out of your bar stools laughing, realizing you meant to say Sagittarius. 
“Okay, let’s get you home Asparagus,” he helped you up, having kept his drinking to a minimum so he could drive you home. 
“Wait, wait,” you grabbed his arm as the two of you exited the bar, “can we go back to your trailer?”
He raised an eyebrow at you, “that’s a little presumptuous for a first date missy.”
“No, no, this isn’t girlfriend y/n asking, just regular friend y/n, who thinks it would be a lot of fun to smoke and watch a movie without Steve there spewing all his annoying fun facts, like, we get it, you read the little insert inside the tape while you were bored at work!”
Eddie did agree that the idea of packing a bowl and watching a few movies with you didn’t sound too different from what his plans would have been otherwise, so he agreed, as long as you promised not to give him any dating advice while hanging out as friend y/n and not girlfriend y/n. 
Although you promised to try your best, you immediately started lecturing him on t-shirt borrowing and the potential weight that could hold in a relationship when he offered to give you some more comfy clothes to change into. 
“It’s important to know!” You emerged from the bathroom in one of his oversized shirts and a pair of boxers, “Some girls are very touchy about it. Any shirt you lend her to sleep in, you have to be willing to sacrifice for life.”
“For life?!” Eddie finishes making a bowl of popcorn for the two of you, swallowing his words when he sees you in his clothes, an unidentifiable emotion rising in him at the sight of you so cozy and integrated into his space. 
“Well maybe not life,” you plop down onto the couch, “but do NOT ask for it back. Most girls will give it back once it stops smelling like you.”
“If she gets my shirt, can I have her underwear?” He asked without thinking, the weed he had just smoked with you hitting him a bit too hard in that moment. 
“Oh my god,” you squeal and bury your face into a pillow, “la la la la, pretending like I didn’t hear that!”
“I’m just saying!” He laughs at you, now curled up into a ball, “fair is fair, right?”
“I guess it depends on the girl,” you mumble. 
“So I’m guessing not you, by your reaction.”
“Eddie!” You smack him with a pillow, “I don’t know, no one’s ever asked!”
“If my girlfriend isn’t going to ask before stealing my shirt for an indefinite amount of time, I think that gives me panty privilege.”
“Wow Eddie, if I had known you were such a perv I would’ve reconsidered being your fake girlfriend,” you say sarcastically, with no real judgement behind it. The idea of him wanting to steal your underwear dampens them ever so slightly. 
“Don’t worry babe, I won’t do anything pervy to you unless you ask nicely,” he shoots a wink at you, which you meet with an eye roll and a turn away to hopefully hide the heat rising in your cheeks. 
The two of you carry out your platonic movie night as planned. You suppressed any urge to note on his actions from a romantic lens, and he ignored the itching desire to sling his arm around your shoulder or pull your legs into his lap to get more comfy on the couch. 
“Can I sleep here Eddie,” you ask after movie two, “too sleepy to move.”
“Sure, I can take the couch and you can have my bed. It’s been a minute since I washed the sheets but it shouldn’t be too bad…”
“Nonono,” you mumble, “Your legs will totally hang right off the end of this thing. I’m conked out anyways, I can crash right here I promise.”
“Ignoring that you’re my fake girlfriend, I’m not letting you sleep out here on this lumpy thing. You’re taking the bed, no arguments.”
He helps you up from the couch, letting you keep the blanket that’s wrapped around you, snaking his arm underneath it and pulling you from the couch by your lower back. You were slightly taken aback by his assistance, body still limp from your relaxed state, your torso easily arching into his. Your arms fly up to grab his shoulders, steadying yourself with an awkward giggle. 
“In the real world, a time like this would be good for a first kiss,” you make note of your closeness, the way he swept you up off the couch and held you steadily as you made your way to your feet. 
“I know that, y/n,” his face was closer to yours than it had ever been, making your words hitch in your throat. 
“Well, I’m just saying,” you turn your head to avoid the tension, “I’m sure the way you kiss your bar-hookups isn’t the way most girls who’re looking to date you long term want to be kissed for the first time.”
‘Oh yeah? And how do you presume that goes?” He kept his hand planted on your lower back.
You pretend to act wildly drunk, throwing yourself at him and letting your limbs go a bit heavier than they already were. “Ohmygod guitar man, I’ve had like, six dirty Shirleys, please finger bang me in the bathroom,” you slur your words and let your tongue loll out the side of your mouth as if to lean in for the world’s sloppiest and most uncoordinated kiss.
“First of all,” his voice was very serious, “I don’t hook up with girls who are too inebriated to stand, let’s get that straight. As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t even have our first fake kiss like this on account of the drinking and smoking, gotta make sure you’re in the right headspace. Secondly,” 
He spins you around and quickly backs you up against the wall that stood a few feet behind the couch. His hand sliding up in between your shoulder blades, blanket now slumped around your waist, his other hand suavely cupping the side of your cheek, His hips angled into yours, pinning you back against the vinyl, almost collapsing back into it. 
He pressed against you, not aggressively, but enough to let you know that if you were to try and squirm away he had the capacity to keep you right where he wanted you. He accomplished this all in one elegant motion, leaving you a bit dazed.
As you started to snap into reality, he moves his hand from your cheek down to grab your chin in between his thumb and the knuckle of his pointer, angling your face directly up at him. 
“If you were some girl in a bar, it would be like this.”
The moment before your brain turned to absolute mush, you silently cringed at the thought of what you must look like, mouth hanging open, eyes glassed over, body instinctively sinking into his touch. Pathetic, you were sure of it. 
Sure, Eddie did think you looked a little helpless, but he also thought you looked perfect. Exactly as he had imagined you to in this situation. Of course he had thought about you before, like that.
Of course he had felt an immediate spark with you when you had first met. But he never flirted back, or lead you on, because as much as he was attracted to you and enjoyed your company, he knew that it wouldn’t work out. He wasn’t relationship material, and you were the picture perfect girlfriend that he didn’t deserve. 
He spoke directly into your parted lips, mouth hovering just far enough away to toe the line of ‘holy shit, is he going to?’ But no, as he made very clear, he wouldn’t kiss you under these conditions. He had made his point, and slowly backed off and let you find your footing. 
As soon as he was sure that you were steady, he backed away and started down the hallway. 
“I might have an extra toothbrush stashed away somewhere, let me look…” he ducked into the bathroom, leaving you stunned in the kitchen, head swimming and your stomach traveled up into your throat. 
He was teasing you, he must be. That was his little way of getting back at you for thinking you could give him dating advice. If he was unsure about his capacity for romance, he was going to make sure you knew he was more than capable in other ways. Understood. 
You shook your head, weeding through your inner monologue of how he could possibly look at you like that and then just walk away. Your shock gave him just long enough for you to to not notice him splashing cold water on his face in the bathroom while he “looked for a toothbrush.” 
The two of you decided to ignore the lingering tension from the events in the kitchen, not a peep of fake-girlfriend talk from you for the rest of the night. He did find you that toothbrush, and the two of you moved through a too-easy domestic routine of getting ready for bed. 
You told him that you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you knew he was cramped on that couch, and that you were fine with sharing a bed. You mumbled something about  getting around to bed sharing etiquette at some point anyways, and sleepily pulled him into being your little spoon. 
Eddie lay there, trying not to twitch or fidget, relaxed as best he could into your cuddled form thinking about how horrible of an idea all of this was. He was convinced all it would take is roughly ten more minutes of you burying your face into his hair and making cute little sleepy noises for him to fall irreversibly in love with you. 
But what was he supposed to do? Move and wake you up? Never. 
You rolled around enough in the night to wake up in a less intimate position than when you had fallen asleep. You knew Eddie was a deep sleeper, and took it upon yourself to creep out of bed and back into your day clothes, make a pot of coffee, and watc a bit of TV before he roused and joined you in the living room. 
“Why didn’t you wake me?” He rubbed the crust from his eyes and was pleasantly surprised to see you had brewed a whole pot of coffee to share. 
“You looked so peaceful and cozy,” he shook his head at you, as if that was no excuse for letting him sleep an extra forty minutes.  
After a slow morning, he agrees to drive you home. 
“So this is the part where I say ‘Eddie, I had such a wonderful time on our date. I’d love to do it again sometime.’ And then you agree and tell me when you’re free. It’s best to be super direct and make plans to get together again soon, cuz then it’s not an awkward who’s-gonna-call-who-first sort of thing.”
“Uh-huh…” he stares at you blankly. 
“But for our sake, let’s just agree that I’m in charge of planning our next date. Okay? I’ll do it from the perspective of what I think most girls would enjoy, so you can steal it for the future. I’ll call you later.” 
You hop out of his van before he can agree, and leave him with a “Thanks for letting me stay over!” As you bound away from his view. 
He squeezed his eyes shut the moment he caught himself checking your ass out as you walked away, and let his head rest down on the steering wheel. He was fucked. How the hell was he supposed to tell you that you needed to stop being his fake girlfriend without disrupting the homeostasis of your friendship?
On one hand he could lie and say he doesn’t want your advice, making you think he didn’t enjoy your company, which was entirely untrue. On the other hand he could tell you the truth, and you would never be friends the same way again. 
He drove home with the music too loud, and patiently awaited your call later that evening to iron out the details of your second fake-date. 
Per your instructions, he let you pick him up this time with the argument that you were the one taking him out this time. He didn’t know what you had planned, but let himself fall to the mercy of whatever you had decided was an exemplary date fore him to ‘steal in the future’. 
You picked up two coffees and rolled up to the trailer park, popping a mix-tape he had made you ages ago. 
“Hey, I thought we said no paying for each other with fake-dating,” he objects to the coffee sat in the passenger cupholder, some abomination of mostly cream and sugar, the way you know he likes it. 
“Yes, that’s true, but you smoked me up the other night, and this coffee was like a dollar fifty, so don’t worry about it,” you give him a look that tells him to drink the damn coffee and not sass back, to which he complies, even though he smokes you up expecting nothing in return about every other weekend. 
The two of you sip away and listen to Eddies ‘must-know-to-be-my-friend’ mixtape and arrive shortly at the strip mall across town. This was a regular weekly stop for both of you, the strip of connected stores containing the Goodwill, a pet store, the pharmacy, and grocery. A pretty mundane collection. 
“Okay, what are we doing at Greg’s?” Eddie gestures to the grocery store, the back of his mind running through the grocery list he’s been making for this week anyways.
“What’s the perfect date?” You ask, and answer for him, “a romantic picnic. But gathering supplies is half the fun. Picnic food supplies at Greg’s, some pills to get fucked up at the pharm, some turtles or something to let loose into the wild from the pet store, and then hats, cups, blanket, etcetera from the Goodwill.”
He turns to you with the most bewildered stare, which sends you into a fit of giggles.
“Okay, I’m joking about the pills and the turtles,” you nudge his arm, “but won’t it be sweet to get together some picnic supplies and then drive out to lookout point? We can still swing by the pet store to check out the ferrets though.”
To Eddie, the idea of a date involved him doing something he didn’t want to do, some awkward small talk, and spending money on shit he truly thought was useless. This didn’t sound half bad. You would “work backwards so the food purchases come last” according  to your reasoning, and he followed you in tow without any arguments into the Goodwill.
“So I’m thinking…” you start to wander into the aisles of used clothes and knick knacks, “maybe a blanket? A basket would be sort of corny, but if we find one for cheap I don’t see why not. Surely two glasses for drinking, and maybe some sun hats?”
Swiveling back around to see a half stunned Eddie, who was still processing how in the hell this was your idea of a romantic date, you grab his hand and pull him to the bric-a-brac section. 
After it got through his thick skull that the same place he had uncomfortably tried on new pants throughout his growth spurt, and picked up his daily-worn leather jacket, had the same potential to provide some silly, cheap, used items to add some flair to this picnic. 
Silly and cheap was right up Eddie’s alley. The two of you picked out mismatched champagne glasses, one with the engraved name of a couple who got married in 1943 and the other a flashy rose color with baby angel carvings dancing around the sides. 
You luckily find an on sale beach blanket, and the two of you pick out some very goofy sun hats. A floppy farmers hat for you, and a bedazzled trucker hat spelling ‘hot mama’ for Eddie.
Through the midst of your giggles and debate on whether you should buy a wooden bench to bring out to your picnic destination, Eddie found himself having a really good time with you. 
As promised, you visited the pet store and checked out the ferrets and fish and geckos. 
“If you could have any pet, what would you want?” You asked him, noses pressed against the chinchilla enclosure. 
“Jaguar,” he said, a little too quickly.
“For real, dummy,” you knock your hip into his.
“I don’t know, we never had enough space or extra money for pets growing up, so maybe someday if I had enough room for it to run around I’d like a dog or something,” he tells. Eyes still transfixed on the chinchilla behind the glass. 
“I can see that,” you imagine Eddie with some mutt from the shelter, wrestling around and giving it lots of scratches behind the ears. 
Skipping the pharmacy, you pop into the grocery store and assemble what may be the world’s most eclectic picnic. 
“That’s the definition of a picnic, I’m pretty sure,” you explain after Eddie insinuated that the gingersnap cookies you grabbed, along with grapes and a block of cheese, wasn’t exactly a meal, “you know, just a smorgasbord of whatever we want!”
Admittedly, Eddie had considered a handful of pretzels and a beer to be dinner on more than one occasion, so he couldn’t argue with you. Quickly catching your drift, the two of you picked out an assortment of snacks and some ingredients for pb&j sandwiches. 
“I thought picnics were supposed to be classy?” Eddie holds up the Wonder bread and bag of potato chips with a look that suggested his question was rhetorical.
Your response was simply to raise the, admittedly cheap, bottle of champagne you grabbed to accompany with your meal, more for the irony of drinking the bubbly liquid out of your new used glasses with your sticky sandwiches than anything else. 
You pack your supplies into a tote bag, not having found a suitable basket at the thrift store, and drive across town to a dirt paved road that leads to a nice lookout point with a view of the lake. 
“Let’s walk down the path a little bit, but not too far,” you grab the blanket and tote bag from your trunk, motioning for Eddie to put on his ‘hot mama’ hat and carry your other auxiliary supplies, “I do not fuck with bugs.”
“I’ll protect you,” Eddie puffs out his chest, making you both giggle.
“From bugs?”
“Yeah, I’ll punch a mosquito right in the face, to defend your honor and all that.”
“I know I told you not to do that, but a mosquito might be the exception to the rule.”
You found a nice little clearing not far from the car, a spot that still had a nice view but was a bit more secluded. Eddie sat pressed right up next to you, making your sandwich ‘to be a proper gentleman’ but simultaneously spilling a glob of jelly onto your leg.
“Shit,” he doesn’t think twice before leaning down and slurping the grape flavored blob off of your bare knee, tongue poking out and licking the spilt jelly from your skin.
“Eddie!” You squirm away, barking out a surprised laugh. 
“What! Your knee is clean, wouldn’t want to waste perfectly good preserves, or a napkin.”
You feel your skin tingle where his lips had touched you, for only a moment, but you still felt it. He was so confident and casual in his movements, not having any hesitation to grab your hand or brush your hair out of your face. It wasn’t under the guise of fake romance, he had always been like that. Not touchy, per se, just sure of himself. You’d never seen Eddie do anything half assed, that’s for certain.
After the conversation you shared the other night, you were unable to stop your mind from wandering to thoughts of what Eddie does with those girls in bars, if he touched him with the same confidence and sureness he put into everything else he did. 
It was wrong to let your mind go to such dirty places about someone you considered a friend, but you couldn’t manage to feel any guilt. He had offered that information freely, so who were you to punish yourself for staring a little longer at his fingers, conjuring up the context in which he’d bury them inside you against some grimy bar bathroom. 
The date was all peanut butter smiles and bubbly laughter that floated up into the trees. Silly, yes, but neither of you could deny there was something sweet, maybe even romantic about it. A cheap meal in the woods shared between two friends in ill-fitting fifty cent hats, but an undeniable touch of romance lingered nonetheless. 
Eddie started to realize that maybe the whole dating thing wasn’t as uptight and scary as he had initially thought. It could be easy and fun, with the right person. And fuck, if he could even imagine doing this with anyone but you. 
Like most things Eddie did, he did not consider any potential consequences before acting. You looked so pretty sitting there in the sunshine, sipping from your cheap ‘Martha & Dave ’43’ glass, a few sandwich crumbs dotting the corner of your mouth.
What else was he supposed to do other than lean over and wipe them away with his thumb, stroking your soft cheek and feel the warmth of your skin beneath his palm. 
“You had some,” he uses his other hand to motion at his own mouth, “and I suppose this is the sort of moment where I’d ask if I can kiss you.” 
You find yourself a bit dumbfounded, his big stupid hand on your cheek and those big stupid puppy dog eyes unrelenting in making everything he says seem so genuine.
“Are you?” You find your voice, only half embarrassed at how shy it comes out.
“Am I what?”
“Are you asking me?”
“Yeah,” his answer comes out in a way that insinuates that he never meant anything other than that, that he was always asking to kiss you, he wasn’t asking in theory, in another universe, in the context of advice. 
“Okay,” you found yourself behaving like Eddie, not really thinking of consequences before your words and actions spoke on behalf of your instincts.
Everything so far had been so easy. Your fake first date at the bar, curling up next to him in a haze, making up stories about what sort of people donated the fake palm tree or the Garfield mug at the Goodwill, imagining Eddie running around a yard with a puppy, lounging in the grass and eating your assorted picnic snacks. It was all effortless.
Suddenly, being kissed by Eddie sucked the ease from your lungs and sent your mind spiraling into a cacophony of bells and whistles and giant swirling red flags. If this is how he kissed you, casually across some half eaten peanut butter sandwiches, you’d spend the rest of your days yearning to know how he kissed someone with true intention. 
Of course, his intentions were all there, but the lingering knowledge that all of this was happening under the umbrella of “you giving him advice” or “helping practice for the next girl” poisoned any true feeling he poured into it. He cupped your cheek, soft, let his lips press into yours delicately for a moment before he felt your breath hitch, opening his mouth just enough to deepen the kiss and capture your lower lip fully. 
He was more careful, gentle, methodic with his movements and so receptive to every little signal your body gave him, it was unlike any first-kiss, heat-of-the-moment-kiss, in-the-throws-of-passion-kiss, any of it. Like hell you’d ever tell him that, inflate that big ego that fuels his snippy comebacks at you, but Jesus, was it remarkable. 
While at war with yourself internally, your heart was on the precipice of exploding in your chest from the way he snaked his hand into your hair and pressed his forehead against yours to catch a breath. You suck in a sharp breath and feel that stupid cocky smirk creep up onto that pretty mouth of his.
“’S that sufficient for a first kiss?”
“Fuck offfff,” you were still a little out of breath, smacking his chest and flopping back down onto the picnic blanket, throwing your arms up and rolling your eyes at him, “if you’re so damn confident, maybe we just should fake break up, cuz you don’t seem like you need my advice.”
“Nooooo,”he slumps down next to you, burrowing his head under your arm so he can pop up right next to your face, “I’m learning a lot, I promise! This date was so fun, and cheap! I would have never thought any of this could be remotely romantic. I’m hopeless, y/n, look at me.”
He wriggles around and gives you a big fake pout, “If left to my own devices I would probably do something horribly embarrassing or off-putting, like…” he digs his head into the crook of your neck and blew a fat, wet raspberry right into your skin, making you yelp and squeal, but his position half on top of you pins you down. 
“See!” He pulls up for air, you were in a fit of screaming giggles, “I’d go right in for a kiss and just,” and he does it again, leaving you gasping for air, trying your best to tickle his ribs to get him off of you, but not minding the close contact by any means. 
“Now I’m not so sure,” he pulls back to give you a minute to catch your breath, “it seems like you enjoyed that, so maybe survey says I should pull that move on the ladies.”
Your airy laughter subsided, but he stays half pinning you down to the blanket and the lumpy grass underneath.
“I didn’t mean to give you the impression that I’m not grateful for your help,” he says earnestly, catching your gaze, “it’s just… this isn’t what I need help with.”
As his statement is processing, you find his lips back on yours, his torso pressed flushed with yours and his wild mane of hair coming down to curtain around your head. He doesn’t take it too far, but kisses you as earnestly as he had before, giving your lip a slight drag with his teeth and running his hand up from your hip up the side of your ribcage, leaving you arching slightly into him by pure instinct.
Before your head got too dizzy again, before you could really throw yourself into it and say fuck it and kiss him back the way you secretly wanted to, he pulled back.
“That.” his voice was even, you hated how needy you felt and how even keeled he could be milliseconds after stealing the air from your lungs, “It’s the rest of it,” he threw his hands up and gestured to all the food and knock knacks around you, “it’s this stuff that you make seem so easy, so forgive me if I lay it on a little thick when we get to the parts I’m actually good at.”
“Just,” you sat up a bit, grounding yourself and formulating a response despite your brain looping the past twenty seconds back infinitely, “don’t do that again.”
“Okay,” he sat back and popped a grape into his mouth, “sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” you knocked his knee with yours, struggling to articulate how you felt without showing too much of your hand, deciding to just be candid, “I just- I liked that a little too much if you know what I mean. And this is strictly business, or education, maybe?”
“You liked it when I pinned you against the wall the other night,” he said matter of factly, “I think you liked that a little too much too, and you still took me on this fake educational business date.”
“Yeah, well, you caught me,” you threw your hands up in defense.
“Which one is it though?” He asks and you don’t quite understand, “are you a sweet kiss on the picnic kind of girl, or an up against the wall kind of girl?”
“That’s none of your business, as far as fake-dating is concerned,” you say a little too quickly, “and no you can’t have my panties.”
You say it with a smirk, but he doesn’t press any further. He turns and does that Eddie-thing he’s so good at, just changing the subject and shifting the vibe completely away from what might have been a stale moment or awkward pause. He starts asking if you like green or purple grapes better, going off about how he used to put them in the freezer as a kid. 
The remainder of your date went without a hitch, of course. You picked away at your picnic until the sun started to set, and once the sky started turning purple you made your way back to the car. The drive home consisted only of easy conversation and no further mention of the kiss, well, kisses that had transpired. He hopped out of the passenger seat with a ‘thank you’ and a ‘see ya later alligator.’ 
A scalding hot shower, a restless night of sleep, and too many cups of herbal tea the next morning did nothing to quell the noise in your head that blasted those moments over and over. You couldn’t stop picking apart whether he had thought about it for even a millisecond, and felt embarrassed that you could think of nothing else. 
It was simply an amplified version of what your whole friendship had been up until this point. You silently admiring him and wishing he would look at you the way you looked at him, and settling for friendship over heartbreak. 
Pushing it aside to the best of your ability allowed you to get through your week, but you had the lingering feeling that the next time you saw him would strike you with warm cheeks and a scrambled mental state.
Guilt had started to seep in at the corners of your mind, but you reminded yourself that you shouldn’t punish yourself for having romantic or sexual thoughts about someone you simply found attractive and compelling, it was your actions that would determine the validity of your guilt. 
“Long time no see, loser,” Robin hollered from the pool table across the bar, where she was likely kicking Steve’s ass. 
“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” you shrug off your coat and plop down at their regular booth, knowing her jabs were entirely empty. You notice Eddie’s leather jacket hung up by the wall, and scan the bar to find him ordering a drink. 
There was a silent mutual understanding that you’d keep the fake dating thing to a bare minimum when out with your friends like this. Even though Steve was well aware, and therefore Robin was too, you figured tainting your social time with the performance of romance is the exact reason Eddie turned down the girl at the bar in the first place. 
“For the lady,” Eddie waltzes over and hands you a drink.
“Oh, thanks,” you take it with a confused smile, “you didn’t have to do that.”
“You bought me coffee last weekend,” he sat across the booth from you, “plus I’m trying to get better at buying drinks for pretty girls, right?”
You remind him that he doesn’t have to keep tabs on things like coffee, but you appreciate the gesture regardless. As per the past few times you’d been out with your friends, you expected him to put a pause on the flirting, but it seems to be bubbling over tonight. You weren’t complaining, but admittedly the arm around your shoulder or the noticeable way he checked you out when you got up to refill your drink took you by slight surprise. 
Sneaking in to claim the always occupied dart board for a challenge against Eddie while he uses the restroom, you keep your eyes on the corner of the bar to signal him over once he returns.
“You need a partner?” A man suddenly appears behind you, a little closer than you’d like but the bar was crowded, so you’ll let it slide. 
“Oh, I was just waiting for-“
“Let me fill in until your friend gets here, we can get you warmed up, yeah?” His tone wasn’t too pushy, but you didn’t love the look he gave you when making that comment.
Awkwardly staggering for a second, unsure weather to just agree or tell him to fuck off, “He really should be just a minute-“
“Or maybe less,” Eddie comes up right behind you and pulls you possessively into his side.
Your head whips up to see him with a devilish smile, his hand on your waist and the fire behind his eyes telling his guy to get lost.
“Oh, sorry man,” the guy starts backing away with an apologetic look.
“Yeah, better luck next time, pal,” Eddie snakes around to take the guy’s spot in front of the dart board.
He had his darts in hand and took his stance to start the match, gesturing for you to do the same. 
“What was that,” you ask with a slight joking tone, but seriously curious.
“What?” He doesn’t make eye contact and instead throws the first dart, “I’m not allowed to get fake jealous?”
“You’re allowed to feel any fake emotion you want, I guess,” your tone is somewhere in between a joke and a question. 
“You’d feel fake jealous if I was getting blown in the bathroom by some chick rather than playing darts with you, I bet.”
“Okay,” your tone shifts to defensive, “getting blown is very different than some guy asking to play darts with me.”
“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” Eddie turns to face you, having thrown all his darts, “for real.”
A moment lapsed where you didn’t register that your mouth was hanging open in disbelief, the look in your eyes Eddie immediately clocked as lust and bottled up to store away for a later time. 
“I knew the scary dog thing would work,” his ‘i-told-you-so’ tone rubbed you the wrong way, but he wasn’t wrong, “you said girls weren’t into that, but you totally looooove that I defended your honor.”
“Don’t give yourself too much credit, I said girls wouldn’t be into it if you punched him,” you rolled your eyes.
“I don’t know, babe, I think you liked the whole ‘back off of my woman’ act.”
You mumble out a ‘whatever’ and let him have this win, which he was clearly reveling in, trying to focus instead at beating him at darts. 
“Just don’t pull shit like that on a first date, acting too possessive off the bat is a huge red flag for a lot of women.”
“I thought we weren’t doing dating advice tonight?” You don’t even have to look at him to know he’s got that stupid sarcastic smile.
“Yeah I thought so too,” you fail at your attempt to beat him in darts, as well as your attempt to not flirt back with him. 
He insists on collecting all the darts, picking up the ones haphazardly strews across the floor from failed attempts to hit the board. 
“I’m no pro or anything, but I think you’d hit the board a lot more if you fixed your stance.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you flip him the bird and take back your red tipped darts. 
As you steady your arm to aim your first shot he comes up behind you and grabs your hips, causing you to let out an unexpected squeak. He adjusts your stance, not aggressively, but with some force, twisting your hips and using his big combat boot to sweep your foot around so you stood more sideways. 
“You’re standing straight on,” he backs up, allowing you to secretly catch your breath, “and all your shots are veering to the right. If you plant your feet more angled you’ll hit the board.”
You wanted to roll your eyes at him, miss on purpose to show him he’s full of shit. You flippantly toss the dart, not trying particularly hard, and it hits. Not a bulls-eye or anything like that, but a lot closer than your previous attempts had been. 
“Good girl,” he comments, leaning in to breech your personal space just enough to make your blood boil.
You drop the remainder of the darts in your opposite hand onto the floor and whip around to face him, half jokingly smacking him on the shoulder. 
“Oh my god, fuck off!”
You’re met with his trademark shit-eating grin.
Truthfully, Eddie hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off you all night. He’d spent the night after your picnic date with his hand in bis boxers, squeezing his eyes shut and remembering the little gasp you had made when he grabbed your waist, the hum in your throat that bubbled up when he kissed you pinned against the blanket, that night and every night since. 
“Oh, you don’t like that?” that joking tone he uses to cover up what he actually wants to say. 
“Shut up, you know I do,” you didn’t even try to stifle your reaction, knowing it was his intent to get under your skin.
“How would I possibly know that,” he playfully looks up at the ceiling and around the bar, hands clasped behind his back now, rocking back and forth on his heels.
“You better cut that shit out, unless you plan on doing something about it,” you manage the most assertive tone your wobbly insides could muster, a little shocked at yourself for actually saying what you were thinking. 
“I’m not much of a planner,” he gracefully takes a stance next to you and rips all three darts, not great shots, but all hitting the board, “I’m more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of guy, you know that.”
“Well your pants better make up their mind if you’re playing boyfriend tonight or not,” your insinuation was heavy but you had fumbled your hand, and he had already seen all your cards at this point, so there was no reason to bluff.
“The real question is,” he leans in, his imposing figure crowding your space in a way that made your head spin, “do you want me to play boyfriend? Or do you want me to play guy who fucks your brains out in the bar bathroom?”
Your eyebrows pinched together for a millisecond, and before he could decipher your expression you grabbed his hand and started storming through the crowds hoarded by the bar. Why the hell a seedy downtown bar has a single stall family bathroom with a changing table is beyond you, but you drag him inside and slam the lock down behind you. 
“You’re not allowed to treat me any differently after this,” you start to fall into the sinkhole of oh my god what the hell is about to happen, but are cut off by him pressing you against the closed door the exact way he had handled you against his kitchen wall that night weeks ago. 
“Not unless you want me to,” he doesn’t hesitate to get his mouth on yours, immediately pulling your mind from wondering what the vague sticky substance on the door pressing into your back could be. 
“I mean, you’re not allowed to fuck me and then never talk to me again,” you say in between moving lips and tongues, giving him a moment to bury his face in your neck, "Promise me."
“Oh don’t worry about that,” he pulls back, “we can go get coffee tomorrow and you can give me a full performance review. Promise.”
Your annoyed eye roll quickly turns into them fluttering shut as he licks a stripe up to the junction behind your ear that has you melted into a boneless puddle between his pressing hips and the door. He drags his teeth across your lobe while leaning into you with a black denim clad thigh.
“Why don’t we make a deal,” you let out, voice breathy and unfocused. Before he can even pull back to reply you continue, “if you’re half as good at this as you claim to be, and can make me cum in this dingy bathroom, I’ll let you take me back to your trailer and you can do whatever the fuck you want to me.”
He was leaning in to seal the deal with a kiss before he could even process your request, because yes of course, a million times yes he’s taking this deal. Despite the rouse of you playing bar hookup for the night, and despite the idea of bringing you back to his place and finally doing what he’s wanted since the day he met you absolutely terrifying him, he nods and kisses you. 
It’s electrifying. His confidence only spurs you on to kiss him harder, grip his hair a little tighter, say the things you would only imagine in the deepest parts of your mind. The feeling of his grin against your lower lip and his fingers quickly unbuttoning your jeans fuels your fire. 
“You sure you know what you’re getting into,” he mumbles playfully, pulling you away from the wall with a gasp and leading you over to the tiny built in counter against a mirror by the sink. 
“Well I’m certainly not letting you fuck me against any of these sticky surfaces,” you note as you’re lifted onto the counter covered in mystery substance, “and I think you need to earn it.”
Of course it was no surprise to you that Eddie was good with his fingers. You probably could have told anyone that long before this impromptu bathroom hookup. Egging him on and challenging him in a way you were sure he wasn’t used to was well worth abandoning your assumptions. 
“Oh yeah? I think, if you’re lucky, I’ll earn it more times than you can count before the night’s over,” he positioned himself in between your legs, pressing your torso into the mirror behind you as he leaned in for another heated kiss. 
He pulled your ass to the edge of the counter, and looped his thumbs into the waistband of your unbuttoned pants. You were quick to assume that he’d yank the fabric right off your legs, preparing to lift your ass from the counter to assist.
Eddie paused, pulled back and gave you a look that asked ‘you’re sure about this?’ and when a dreamy smile spread across your cheeks he melted into you with a kiss that turned your stomach inside out and made your pussy flutter.
He snakes a hand from its grip on your torso down into your unbuttoned pants. You arched up into his touch, wanting to urge him to get on with it and get your pants and underwear out of the way, but appreciating how much he seemed to be reveling in feeling you for the first time. 
“So fuckin wet,” he mumbled against your lips, his fingers only feeling up your cunt from outside your underwear. He pressed the fabric into your slick center, following the path up to your clit and then teasingly back down to where your panties were soaked through.
“You weren’t lying when you said you liked this a little too much,” he’s rolling his hips ever so slightly against your spread thigh as he rubs your clothed pussy, his teeth sinking into your lower lip as he moves the material aside and sinks two fingers right into your wet cunt with ease.
You were sure that you’d retrospectively have a million quippy compacks that come to mind, but in this moment it was impossible to come up with words when his fingers were buried inside you, still, just letting you squeeze around them, and his hard cock straining against his jeans nestled against the inside of your thigh.
He slowly drags his finger’s up from your hole to your clit, and you let out a whine of desperation as he fully removes his hand from your damp underwear. 
Before you can manage the breath to tell him to please, for the love of god, get on with it, he brings his fingers up to his lips and gives them a long suck, never breaking eye contact with you. 
“Yeah,” he sighs out and presses his forehead against yours, “I might like that a little too much too.”
Protests and urging words catch in your throat as he yanks down your pants and underwear with one quick pull, not even needing you to lift your ass off the counter more than it already was. He was methodical and moved with intention, folding up your pants neatly and shoving your soaked panties into his back pocket, shooting you a wink. 
“Eddie, please,” your overdue complaints are finally bubbling over. You hardly finish your plea before his face is buried in your neck, and his fingers are sliding right back into your needy hole. 
The top of your head rests against the mirror behind you, exposing your neck and arching your back into his touch. He sucks and nips at the soft skin between your collar bone and ear, all while letting his two middle fingers pump slowly into you.
“Mmmm,” he mumbles into the crook of your jaw, “such a good girl for me, perfect pussy squeezing my fingers so tight, can’t fuckin wait to feel you soak my cock.”
Nearly orgasming at his words alone, your eyes flutter shut and you let out a moan of his name as he lets his thumb drag circles across your clit. “Eddie, please, just like that, I-”
“Oh, suddenly she’s not questioning my abilities?” he says with a biting smirk, “What was that about me not being half as good as I think I am?”
“Fuck,” you want to raise an eyebrow and shoot something back, hold out and make him work for it, but after hardly two minutes of his fingers rolling inside you, hooked up to drag along that perfect fucking spot, you had no choice but to feed his ego and let him win. 
“You wanted to make your little deal,” he pumps a little faster, making your head loll to the side and mouth hang half open, “I’ll sweeten it for you, babe. I say we can get this pretty pussy to come twice all over my fingers before anyone even knocks on this door.”
“Yes,” is all you can squeak out, “yes, please.”
If Eddie was being honest, he was a few half-thrusts into your thigh short of coming in his own pants from how hot you looked. Your eyes glassed over, pretty lips parted and gasping his name, perfect cunt sucking his fingers in. 
The hand not occupied by your gushing cunt slid up to cup the side of your cheek, forcing you to look into his fiery eyes. “Feel’s good?” he questions, knowing the answer and not expecting a verbal response.
He drags the pad of his thumb up to your parted lips, running it along your plush bottom lip and dragging it down a bit, relishing in how under his spell you were. His thumb slips into your mouth and you immediately wrap your lips around it and suck. 
“Good girl,” his thumb on your clit is rubbing more focused circles, “suck on that and keep your voice down, don’t want the whole bar knowing what a good little slut you are for me.”
Jackpot. 
A muffled moan around his thumb and the spasming of your inner walls signaled that you were hitting your peak. He drags the spit slicked digit from your lips and quickly replaces it with his lips and tongue, kissing you with fervor as he feels you ride out your orgasm on his hand. 
“Mmmmmmm” you moan, somewhere between a pleading whine and a sigh of satisfaction into his lips as his fingers don’t let up. 
Under different circumstances you would tell him to slow down, give you a minute to catch your breath. Eddie was stubborn, this you knew, and he had already made it abundantly clear that one orgasm wasn’t going to be enough. 
He pulls back from your lips, loving the sharp intake of breath you swallow as your cheeks continue to flush and eyelids keep fluttering. 
“So fucking good, came all over my fingers,” his gaze locks in on where his hand was buried into your cunt. “Gonna give me one more?”
Of course you would, whether it was up to you or not. He did slow up for a second, just enough for you to regain your grip on reality before he started curling them up again. 
“Eddie,” you whine out, eyes nearly crossed and unable to focus your attention on his face, hands, anything other than his boner poking into your inner thigh, “wanna feel you.”
The hand formerly gripped tight onto the edge of the counter snakes forward and pulls his hip into you, a permanent indentation of his stiff cock molding against your skin. 
“Not yet baby,” he rolls his hips forward, giving you a delicious feel of how it would be if he was inside you, but instead pushing his fingers a touch deeper and then pulling his hips away, “one more and then I’ll take you home. You’re gonna let me ruin that perfect little cunt, right? That was the deal?”
“Yes,” you gasp out, his other hand moving from your hair down to rub fast tight circles on your clit, the other hand still pumping steadily inside you.
“That’s right, I know this pussy is gonna take me so well. You’re already drooling for my cock, so fucking perfect.”
You feel it building up again, that sacred double orgasm that only ever came during your alone time in the shower or when you were so desperate for release that your hand didn’t stop after the first, but never with another person, never like this. 
His smile nearly touched his ears at this point, pulling back to take in all of you as your eyes screwed shut and thighs threatened to break his wrist at how fast they snapped together. 
Hitting you like a punch to the gut, your abdomen tightened and released rapidly, air sucked from your lungs and his hand working you through it between your clenched thighs. 
Yeah, maybe this was a bad idea. 
If you were in a cartoon, stars and chirping birds would be swirling around your head as you slowly came back to reality. He gave you some space, and begrudgingly gave you pack your panties after you hand out your hand and gave him a stern look.
“I’m gonna go tell the others that you aren’t feeling great and I’m taking you home,” he makes sure you’ve pulled your pants back up before unlocking the door, “Take your time, and I’ll meet you at the van, okay? I’ll grab your stuff.”
“Yeah,” you still feel a little flustered, looking back into the mirror and smoothing down your hair, “thanks.”
He shoots you a wink before slipping out, giving you a moment to collect yourself and splash some cold water on your face. Okay, so you’re doing this. 
Any nagging feelings that this might ruin things or that he’s only teasing you because of your arrangement are quickly squished down into a deeper compartment of your brain, overtaken by the post orgasm bliss and wandering thoughts of what might happen next. 
You peek your head out of the bathroom door, and slink your way to the back door without passing your group table or a stray Steve or Robin. The fresh air equalizes your buzzing thoughts, and you spot Eddie, already in the driver’s seat of his van. 
“You good?” He asks as you hop into the passenger seat. You won’t let him have the upper hand, just because he made you come twice in under ten minutes. 
“Yeah,” you gather as much assertion as your voice will project, “You good?”
“F’course,” he starts backing up, you internally roll your eyes at the way his outstretched arm muscles and curved neck make your stomach flutter, “Just wanted to make sure I passed the test.”
You sit in silence, not wanting to give into the cocky game he clearly wants to play, yet know that he’s entirely correct in his assumption that he’s driven you completely crazy. Once he’s on the main stretch of road, finally rolling to a stop at a red light you let your hand migrate across the center console, dancing its way into his lap. 
As you hoped, his cock was still half hard and apparent underneath his jeans. You let your hand draw circles next to it, loving the little twitch you get when you run your nails against his thigh. 
“Easy there, tiger,” he lets out a huffed laugh, with just an edge to his tone that suggested you were getting yourself into something you’d soon regret. 
“C’mon Eds,” you let your head fall on the corner of the headrest, gaze angled over at his tight grip on the steering wheel while your hand dancing around the bulge in his pants, “you’ve been pushing this thing against my thigh for the past twenty minutes, forgive me for wanting a better feel.”
You put on a pretend pouty face and flash him your best puppy dog eyes to ward off any incoming snippy comments from him. He rolls his pretty eyes at you and silently bites the inside of his cheek as you feel up and down his lap, grazing his growing cock with each pass. 
“Forgiven,” through gritted teeth, he squeezes his eyes shut as your fingers circle around his head, now taking visible form beneath his black jeans. He internally reprimands himself for losing focus on the road, and zeroes his concentration on getting back to his trailer as fast as this van can take him. 
You have your fun watching him wiggle in his seat, feeling his thigh muscles clench under your palm every so often. You weren’t full on jerking him off over his pants, but you were certainly relishing in the feeling of his dick getting harder and harder with each occasional pass of your hand.
He parks diagonally across the lawn in front of his trailer, not giving a shit where the van ends up as long as it’s stopped. He wanted to dash around the vehicle and scoop you out of your seat, throw you over his shoulder and take you inside to continue with whatever this evening had in store for you.
The second his hand stalled on the clutch, shifting the van into park and taking a moment to let his mind wander to what would happen once he got you inside, you were already halfway out the van and skipping up the steps to his front door. 
Entering his trailer, you start taking off your coat and shoes, trying to act as normal as possible. Your facade of keeping it cool entirely shatters when he enters behind you, calmly clicking the door shut and patiently waiting for you to finish unlacing your boots.
You remain crouched down, darting your eyes up at him, deciding against being a brat and undoing your laces as slowly as possible to keep him waiting. Any caution you had was long swept away by the wind, and he’d taken control in your little bathroom tryst, so it was your turn to say fuck it and just do what felt right. 
And in this moment, there was only a few quick movements and about six inches of space between you and Eddie’s semi-hard dick. One shoe was only half off, haphazardly kicked behind you as you pivoted onto your knees and had your hands moving eagerly up his tensing thighs.
“Can I?” Your question was half formed and he was already nodding. 
You’d teased him enough on the ride over, you wanted him, now. Pants quickly unbuttoned and blue checkered boxers pushed down to his knees, and you were about to go feral and just go for it when a silver glimmer adorning his thick cock caught your eye.
Your mouth was already half open, but your jaw nearly unhinged and hit the floor when the pierced head of his dick falls out of his boxers and lands at your eye level. 
Unmoving, mouth agape, you look up to make eye contact, ripping your eyes away from the shock of two silver balls on his cockhead. He knew it was nice, he wouldn’t have bedazzled it if it wasn’t, but the look you were giving him sucked all the unwavering confidence from his body for a split second, suddenly feeling weak in the knees at the sight of you slowly sicking your tongue out, not making any contact but waiting. 
He took the base of his dick in his hand and gave it a few precautionary strokes before angling it down and slapping your wet tongue with the tip a few times. 
You were two and a half seconds away from being entirely fucked out. If he pulled away and asked you to crawl on all fours to him, you’d do it without a second thought.
You let him slide his cock gently against your outstretched tongue a few times before coming to your senses and wrapping your lips around him, moving your hand to replace his and move against the length that your mouth couldn’t yet reach. 
All it took was a few steady bobs of your head, hand twisting and eyes still focused upwards on his face, to have him biting his knuckle and looking up at the ceiling to ground himself to try and not bust on the spot. You love this, of course, seeing him visibly spiral paired with the salty taste of precum already leaking from him. 
The hand not jerking him off comes up to the back of his hip, gently pushing against him in tandem with the movements of your head, encouraging him to shallowly thrust into your mouth.
“Jesus fu-“ he grunts out, not wanting to overestimate your encouragement, but unable to keep his hips from rolling forward slightly with the push of your hands and the bob of your lips. 
After an unexpected snap of his hips that sent his cock sliding into the back of your throat, making you gag slightly, a pang of guilt struck through him for pushing too hard. That was, until you let your head pull back a touch to catch your breath, but a long string of spit connected your lips to his cock, and a wild smile broke across your face that nearly sent him to the moon. 
You dove back in and pushed his cock all the way into the back of your throat, going so far that your nose pressed into the patch of dark curls that sat above his perfect dick. Focusing your breathing through your nose, you make a point to constrict your throat a few times until you feel him twitch inside you.
Pulling off with a gasp for air, you notice his eyebrows pinched together and gaze locked on you. 
“I like how these feel,” you comment, letting your pointed tongue dance around the metal balls on his tip.
He shudders and you clench your thighs at the sight of his stomach muscles tensing up when your tongue makes contact with the underside of his head, right where it meets the shaft. 
“If I let you fuck my mouth until you come, are you still going to be able to give it to me in a bit, or are you a one and done kind of guy?” You ask with a playfully teasing tone, but genuinely want to know if you suck him off to completion if the night will be over or not. 
“Fuck,” he spits out, more blood rushing to his cock at the idea of coming down your throat, “I’d fuck you all night if you’d let me babe.”
Half a second doesn’t pass before his cock is back in your mouth, hips shakily moving forward with your movements, gaining confidence as you flicker your eyes up at him through your lashes, the glimmer in them telling him he can take what he wants. 
“Fuckin’ look at you,” he comments to himself, “takin’ it all.” 
“Mhmmm,” you hum around him letting your tongue roll around his tip each time before he pushes his cock back down your throat. 
“You think you can get away with teasing me like that? That shit you pulled in the van back there, you think it’s cute to try and get me all riled up?”
You nod, tongue out and saliva coating your lips and chin. You could tell he was close by the way his words came out staggered, and his hips started snapping towards you in a new tempo, like his body was chasing it. 
Grunts and moans pulled from his chest fill the space mixed with the hums of satisfaction you let out while you take him deeper and faster. Moving in for the kill, you carefully slip your hand up in between his legs, cupping his balls, trying your best not to startle him. 
“Oh fuck,” it was a pitch of his voice you’d never heard before, a new tone especially reserved for the moments before orgasm, “you’re gonna make me fuckin come, y/n, y/n, I’m…”
The feeling of his balls constricting in your hands cues the warm wash of come sputtering down into your throat.
Getting the feeling he’d appreciate a bit of a show, you continue to jerk him off and pull off his cock slightly, letting the tip balance onto the tip of your tongue and the rest of his load spills out into your open mouth, some landing around the corners and onto your lips. 
“Christ, y/n,” his chest is heaving, his eyes finally pulling from you to squeeze shut for a moment. 
Once you’re sure he’s looking at you again you swallow down the salty white substance and lick the excess off your lips. You take his head back into your mouth, sucking just enough to clean off the tip and lap up any stray drops. He’s sensitive, you can tell, so you stop torturing him and place a final kiss right in between the two metal balls. 
You thought of asking him if the piercing hurt, or maybe make a comment about the two matching tattoos on his hipbones, ink of his you’d never seen until now. Before your brain can jump from swallowing his come to making post-nut chit chat, he’s yanking you up off your feet and wrapping you in a searingly passionate kiss. 
In your past experience most guys wanted you to drink some water or brush your teeth after they came in your mouth, at least before kissing you. Not Eddie. The way his tongue immediately slipped into your mouth, you almost believed he was trying to get a taste for himself. 
“C’mon,” he whispers in between slotting his lips with your, “Bedroom. Now.” 
He takes your hips in his hands and spins you around, causing a surprised yelp to bubble up from you, making him chuckle behind you as he walks you down the hall, keeping his hands on your sides. 
You knew where you were going, there were only so many doors in his tiny trailer, and you’d been here plenty of times before, but you liked the feeling of his hands pushing you forward, guiding your movements and steering you down the hallway into his room. 
Before your knees can hit the bed he spins you back around and captures your lips in another heated kiss. His hands trail up your sides, letting his fingertips slide beneath the hem of your shirt and push it upwards until your ribs were exposed. He pulls away from your face, leaving you leaning back into him, not wanting the kiss to end. 
“Up,” he pinches the sides of your shirt in his hands, and signals with his chin that he wants you to lift your arms, which you comply. 
It slides up and off of you, his hands quickly darting back to unclasp your bra, seemingly without even trying. This makes you roll your eyes, but the realization that you’re bare before him eclipses the thought of making a snippy remark about what a man whore he is. 
Flat palms caress your sides and move up to cup your breasts, his tongue pressing into the side of your neck. 
“These too,” his thumbs dip into your pants, managing to wiggle under the waistband of your panties as well. You’re going to do it yourself, but he gently pushes you back onto the bed, letting you flip back into the unmade blankets. 
“I wanna see you,” he pops your pants button and waits for a nod before sliding your pants and underwear down your legs. 
In between the blowjob and now, he’d tucked himself back into his pants, pulling his boxers and jeans back up, still unbuttoned, but covering him back up as his cock returned to a half hard state, unlikely to stay that way for very long considering how things were going. 
The scene of you now sprawled out onto his bed, naked and needy for him, and him standing above you, basically fully clothed, had a flood of lust traveling south between your thighs.
“So fuckin’ gorgeous,” you burned under his intense gaze, raking down your body and soaking in the image of your skin laid out against his flannel plaid sheets. 
He crawls over you, letting his body melt into yours, the center seam of his jeans pressing against your soaking core, just as it had when he had you pressed up against the door of the bar bathroom.
Rocking gently against you, you feel his cock already starting to harden again. His tongue moves against your neck, hands roaming freely against your skin, arching into his touch. 
His breath was heavy against your lips, he was already starting to lose himself, and he knew he wanted to make you come with his tongue at least once before his dick came back out, but it was already pulsing between his legs, growing rock solid with every little whimper that came past your lips. 
Your fingers intertwined themselves into the tresses of his long, messy hair. You use your new grip to pull his face as close into yours as your bodies will allow, smushing his nose up against your cheek and foreheads plastered together. The weight of his body on yours, and the lovely rocking motion of his hips against yours stopped as he pulled away and hooked his arms under your knees. 
He slides off the side of the bed, feet returning to the carpeted ground and yanking your body to the edge of the mattress. You let out an unexpected giggle, body limp like a rag doll, moving wherever he wanted you. 
He leans back over to give you another deep kiss, teeth dragging against your lower lip and tongue sliding gracefully against yours, before he slides his mouth down, stopping to lap up at your nipples for a moment, not letting any part of your skin go untouched as he takes his time moving down to where you want him most. 
Wiggling around on his mattress, your body is begging him to get on with it, but he loves to make you squirm. He takes his time licking up your hip bones, kissing from the innermost part of your thigh all the way down to your knee, and then back up the other side. He even takes a long moment to suck a dark purple bruise into the meat of your thigh, biting down on the flesh and licking over the skin to soothe it, noticing how your back arched a little when he bit down harder. 
“Please Eddie,” your voice is hardly above a whisper, whimpering and whiny.
“All you had to do was ask nicely,” he has that too-cocky tone again, but it’s long forgotten once his tongue is buried in between your thighs, lapping up the excess of wetness already pooled there.
“Ohhh,” you let out a moan, sucking in a sharp breath and allowing your body to relax under his focused touch. 
His hands push up from your ass to the crooks of your knees, moving your legs back to either side of you, strong palms finding their resting place on the backs of your thighs, keeping your legs spread wide open for him while he buries his face deep in your cunt. 
“You-“ the start of a compliment, or maybe a request, escapes your lips but the sudden harsh suck of your clit into his mouth has you speechless and moaning, “Mhmmmmm, uhhhhhhh.”
The sloppy wet sounds of him making out with your pussy are enough to drive you wild, your hands originally balling his sheets in your fists quickly move to the top of his head, resting atop his mop of messy curls. 
“Y’can give it a tug,” the first half of his statement spoken directly into your pussy, “I don’t mind a little pain.” He shoots you a wink and keeps his eyes locked on you as he lets his tongue lap a fat long lick up your slit, and then leaning back down to encourage you to tangle your hands into his hair. 
Coming to either side of his head you grab two points of purchase, locking your fingers in at the roots and feeling him hum into your cunt when you grabbed it a little tighter. 
Your hips start to quiver, so he brings one hand from your thigh up to your lower stomach, pinning you against the bed, and still keeping you spread open with the other. 
Working a steady rhythm against your slick center with his lips and tongue, he can tell he’s found the spot you like most by your open mouth and tight eyebrows.
“Ohmygod,” your chest starts moving with heavy breaths, you can’t bear to keep yourself up any longer and flop back down flat onto the mattress, eyes screwing shut in pleasure. He lets go of his anchor on your tummy and returns his hands to your thighs, allowing your hips to wiggle and wriggle against his face to chase after your own pleasure. 
“Pleasepleaseplease,” one glimpse of his big brown eyes looking up at you and his nose pressing deliciously into the spot above your clit has your head reeling, “please don’t stop, fuck.”
Rather than reply, he just continues to devour you at that steady pace, your thighs almost snapping shut around his head . 
“Uh huh, right there, oh fuck Eddie I’m gonna-“ 
A strangled moan rips from your throat and your back arches off the mattress, his hands quickly come to wrap around your thighs and keep your center held closely against his face. He’s pulling your hips flush with his face, despite your spasming torso and gushing core. 
As your orgasm peaks, your hips angle themselves to push up deeper into his face, and he uses his leverage against the backs of your thighs to lift your ass, the entire lower half of your body now off the mattress and sliding backwards as he keeps his moving tongue glued to your clit. 
He climbs up onto the mattress as you slide back, the grip he had on your legs was sure to leave a sore memory of him unwilling to let your coming pussy away from his face. 
When he finally pulls away, your hand pushing at his forehead to prevent overstimulation, both of you gasping for air, his knees are propped under your thighs, and your hips are propped up right at perfect level with the bulge in his pants. 
“Fuck me,” you say through catching your breath, not as an expletive but rather a demand, “Eddie, I need you to fuck me,” your voice was whiny and desperate. 
“This okay?” he starts pulling his dick from its constraints in his unbuttoned jeans, not even shoving them halfway down his thighs before he had that pretty pierced dip dragging through your open and ready folds. 
“Yes, inside, please,” you were chasing after his length, while he tossed his shirt off. He teasingly ran it up and down your slit before sinking into you, collapsing down to press your lips into a kiss to swallow your moans as he slid the whole thing in slowly, making sure to take his time and fuck you right. 
He grabbed the back of your neck and pressed his forehead to yours, finally sheathed all the way inside you and stilling for a moment to relish in the feeling. Pulling back so he can watch your face as he pumps his first few thrusts, he knows he’s beyond fucked. 
“So fucking good,” you slur out, eyes almost crossing from how deep his cock was hitting your insides.
“Yeah? This pussy’s god damn perfect, fucking made for me,” he articulates each thought with a snap of his hips, “suckin’ me right in.” 
“Wait, can we,” your voice had a little more weight behind it unlike the airy moans he’d grown obsessed with in the past forty minutes.
He pulls back, and rather than finish your thought you slip him out of you and roll over, shuffling up the bed and positioning yourself face down ass up, knees spread and back arched. 
“You think you can handle it?” he asks jokingly, swatting your ass playfully and then landing a second, harder smack on the flesh when he notices you pussy clench around nothing at the sensation of him spanking you. 
“Want you to fuck me hard,” you mumble into his pillow, wiggling your hips a little bit to jiggle the fat of your ass, “I know your cock is gonna feel so fucking good in me this way, wanna feel that fucking piercing back in my throat from the other direction.”
“Jesus Christ, y/n,” he was genuinely a little shocked at your words, slowly learning that your freak side might match his. 
You expected to feel his cock slam into you once his hands came to spread your ass apart, but instead the mattress dipped and he was licking another fat stripe from your clit all the way up past your second hole, running this back a few times until you were moaning into the pillow and thighs were tensed up from the attention he was giving you.
“Sorry babe, just needed another taste,” he pushed the head of his dick into you, and moved the first few inches agonizingly slow into your soaked hole. 
“Eddie please, need it, need you,” he loved that his sheets were balled up in your fists, using the tension of the material to bounce yourself back onto him. You only manage to slide back down about three quarters before he’s tightly gripping your hip and pulling out half way again. 
“Tsk tsk tsk, you need to learn to be patient, pretty girl,” he’d thrust it an inch of so, and then slowly pull back, making you whine and start to feel tears bubble up in the corners of your eyes. 
“Want it so bad,” your cheek laid flat against his pillow, and you could catch a glimpse of him behind you out of the corner of your eye if you craned your neck a bit. You sounded so desperate, but you knew he liked it, liked hearing how badly you craved him. 
He starts moving in and out of you, firm grip on your ass never wavering. Restrained grunts left his mouth as he fucked into you, causing your eyes to practically roll into the back of your head. He leans down to place a soft kiss on your shoulder blade, despite how viciously he's pounding into you. His head cranes down to your shoulder, his hand coming up to brush your hair out of your face. 
As his long fingers move your hair away from your eyes, you push your head back into his hand, not wanting to lose contact. He tentatively runs his hands up into your hair, taking a soft grip on your roots.
“Is this what you want?” he whispers, “you like it rough?”
“Yes,” you manage to squeak out, “fuck, pull my hair, spank me, do whatever the fuck you want to me, please.”
His vision practically goes black with this new unrestricted passion, allowing himself to thrust into you as hard and as deep as his hips would propel him, twisting your hair in his grip and pulling you up from your laid position, quickly letting your hands jump to his headboard to support you as your head was pulled back. 
You tried to bounce back onto his cock, wanting to feel him as deeply and wholly as your bodies would allow, but you could hardly keep up with the pace he had set. 
Your ass bouncing against him and the occasional glance he caught at your fucked out expression spurred him on to fuck you even harder. He had your hair pulled back so tight that your back was pressing flush up with his chest every so often, and he took the opportunity to snake an arm around you and hold your chest up flat, his other hand moving down to rub frantic circles on your clit.
“You’re gonna make me come like this,” you manage to croak out, voice hoarse from the harsh bend in your neck. 
“Nuh uhh, no,” his voice was gruff and commanding, right into your ear and sent a shiver down your spine. 
He pulled out of you fully, and had you flipped around flat on your back again before you could even open your mouth to complain. 
“Need to see that pretty face when you come on my cock,” he lines himself up with you again, pushing into you and making a mental note of how the bulge of his cock looked pressing up from the inner part of your lower stomach. 
And of course, your face screwed up in pleasure, puffy lips and sweaty brow, slack jawed and panting his name would be something Eddie wouldn’t be able to forget even if he tried.
His thumb found its way to your clit to pick up where he had last left you, steadily building to an earth shattering orgasm. Talking you through it, knowing you were close by the vice grip your walls had on his dick, in between grunts he spilled out some “good girl”’s and “right fuckin there, that’s it.” 
When he felt your thighs tense up, and the muscles in your neck strain against the soft skin he’d previously had his lips all over, he knew you were nearing the finish line. 
“So fucking perfect, feel so good wrapped around me,” he managed to sweet talk you without altering the pace of his hips, “That’s it, come on my cock, give it to me.”
With that, your body can’t help but throw itself over the edge of pleasure. A deep grunt rattles in your chest, and you lose all sensation other than the wild pulsing in between your legs. You can’t be bothered to worry about what your face looks like, or if your thighs are squeezing him too hard, you only feel the riptide of an orgasm shattering through you. 
The animalistic noise that Eddie grunts out, his wild gaze locked on your face only makes your body shake with pleasure even harder. He had that instinct that most men lacked, to keep the exact pace and motion when your orgasm hit rather than speed up or slow down, it was a gift, a talent. 
Of course he wasn’t going to change a thing about what he was doing, look at you. You were so fucking perfect, shaking and coming all over him, those sweet noises and the beautiful squelching between your thighs. He’d rather die than change a single thing about this moment. 
He stilled only when you paused to catch your breath, and within seconds was flipped over by the power of your thighs onto his back.
Unexpectedly, you began to ride him, trying to match the pace he had earlier set. The aftershocks of your orgasm still washed through you, but you seized the moment to get him right where you wanted him. This angle was different, deeper and more connected. You roll your hips and bring your hands up to his hair, foreheads pressing together once again. 
“You’re making me feel so fucking good,” you manage to breathe out into his lips, he quickly comes to the realization of what’s happened and shifts the angle of his hips to hit you even deeper. 
“I’d give you everything, if you’d let me,” he doesn’t let a single thought pass in his mind before the words slip out, “always.”
Your lips capture his in a kiss that has far more emotion behind it than two friends play-dating and fucking for fun. His hands come up to grasp your cheeks, your hips continue to roll down into his with purpose. 
“I’m- Where-“ his words are hardly intelligible in between breathless kisses, but you know what he means. 
“Inside, please, need all of you inside me,” you try to keep your voice steady so he hears you loud and clear, wanting to give him the exact attention he had paid to you, “Please Eddie, come inside me.”
His hands travel down and guide your hips to fuck down onto him one, two, three times before he’s groaning in your ear and letting out the prettiest and most vulnerable sounds you’ve ever heard form him. 
The swell of his cock inside you makes you drape your head into his neck, focusing on riding out his orgasm and making sure he was twitching in the aftershocks of his orgasm before you let up. 
When you felt his grip on your hips tighten, signaling that he’d had too much, you sink all the way down one final time and let your body lay limp on his, pulsing cock still filling you up. 
His chest rose and fell harshly with his recovering breaths. You could feel his heartbeat pulsing up through the spot on his neck where your ear laid on his sweaty skin.
Silently awaiting the inevitable tap on the shoulder, the slow pull out and post-sex cleanup process, you try to savor every passing moment. But it doesn’t come. Eddie wraps his arms around your midsection and holds your limp body close to his, letting his cock start to soften inside you. 
You nearly fall asleep like that, all wrapped up in him, until you recognize that you should pee and clean up to avoid a UTI. You slip off of him, and hear a disappointed groan from him. He makes cute grabby hands at you as you cross the room, making you roll your eyes, but something deep inside you flip flops with how sweet he’s being, so caring, so unlike the picture of himself that he had painted for you. 
You give him a wet hand towel to clean up the remnants of your activities, and slip back into bed with him per his insistence. You doze off for a while, until the rising sun peeking through his blinds catches your eye, striking you with the sudden decision to stay and face the music or leave and let it settle. 
You’d already regretted it, but weren’t ready to have the “hey, so I know we had fake boyfriend-girlfriend sex, but I actually really like you so what should we do about that?” conversion with him, so instead you take the cowardly path and tiptoe out of his room in the early morning hours, leaving behind your underwear on his nightside table with a scribbled note saying to call you. Hopefully that was enough of a signal. 
Apparently not,
Days pass, and no call. 
It was all starting to get to your head. While you had gone through the stages of being nervous that you had done something wrong, that he was avoiding you to spare you the rejection, thinking he regretted what had happened and didn’t want to face you, who was so obviously into him it was painful, you’d just now turned a new leaf. Fuck that. If he was too much of a coward to call you, you'd hope he'd at least give you the decency as a friend to tell you the truth, you deserved to be angry, and you deserved a response. 
After stewing in your feelings for longer than felt healthy, you just get in your car and start driving to his trailer. If this all blew up in your face at least you wouldn’t have to keep biting your nails and waiting for the phone to ring. 
Three deep breaths, and a quick moment to gather your thoughts, and suddenly your body acted on instinct, putting the car in park and walking up to pound three concise knocks on his trailer door. 
“Just a second,” he hollered from inside, giving you a few seconds to be stricken with regret for showing up unannounced without a plan on what exactly to say. 
“What do you- oh, y/n,” he was in a pair of plaid pajama pants that hung low on his hips, shirtless and hair still damp from a recent shower, “uh, hey?”
“Oh, hey,” your tone was laced with annoyance, “I left something here last week and I’m here to get it back. If you don’t mind.”
“What- oh,” he’s a second too slow to realize you mean the underwear you had purposefully left behind with that note. The note telling him to call you. Which he never did. 
You were left standing on his porch steps, arms crossed and shooting daggers out of your eyes while he stood there in the doorway, an apparent guilty expression plastered on his face while he rocked back on his heels to buy some time to figure out what to say. 
“You don’t have to invite me inside, if you can just grab them and give them to me, and I’ll be out of your hair,” you say flatly, recognizing if he does as asked then this might be the last time you speak to Eddie Munson. 
“No, no, uh, you should come in,” he steps aside to let you in, “we probably shouldn’t have this conversation on my front steps.”
Avoiding eye contact, feeling an overwhelming mix of anger, confusion, and betrayal, you step inside and don’t make any effort to move into the space. You just stand by the door and give him an expectant look. Either he could go get the underwear, or he could grow a pair and say something to you. 
“I, uh-“ he looked so defeated you started to feel bad for using such a pointed tone, but then you remembered the days and days that passed without hearing from him, “I’m sorry, that I, y’know…”
“Yeah, well I don’t really care if you’re not looking for any post sex recap conversations, because you’re obviously pretty sure of yourself in that department,” the words flew out before your mind could even conjure them up, “but you fucking promised me that you wouldn’t do this, so can I please just have my underwear back and I won’t bother you again.”
He runs a hand through his hair letting out a deep exhale and searching the ceiling for words, “I know, I-“
You cut him off, your thoughts were ripping through you now and you were going to say your piece whether he asked for it or not, “You said you wouldn’t pull this shit with me, but I guess our friendship isn’t substantial enough for you to see me any differently than you do every other girl you throw away after you’ve gotten what you want. You clearly don’t want any more advice and you clearly don’t want to be my friend, so please, just give me my shit so I can go.”
“That’s the fucking thing y/n, of course I don’t want to be your friend,” his gaze still fixed on the ceiling.
At this point you were seconds away from just storming out, letting him keep your underwear as some twisted little trophy for breaking your heart. 
“Yeah, crystal clear Eddie.”
“Being your friend is already hard enough, and I knew this shit was a bad idea, the whole trial-girlfriend thing. But how the fuck was I supposed to say no to that? The girl of my dreams offers to do all this no-strings-attached romantic shit, I’d be the dumbest man alive to turn that down.”
You just give him a blank stare, your scalding anger twisting into a more confused frenzy of bees swarming in the pit of your stomach. Eyebrows pinched together, you just stare at him until he finally makes eye contact with you. 
“And yeah,” he goes on, letting all his words out like a big exhale in the same cadence that you had just hurled all your angry words at his, but his tone was filled with guilt as opposed to rage, “maybe we let it go a little too far, but I would never say no to you, I couldn’t. I’m sorry I didn’t know what the fuck to say to you after, but that’s exactly the reason I’m not good enough for you. The more we kept that fake dating shit up the worse it was gonna get, so I’m sorry, but I can’t keep spending time with you like that, because it’s starting to fucking hurt.”
“Hurt,” you say with a dry laugh, which almost scares him, “YOU’RE hurt? Give me a fucking break Eddie. I know you don’t see me that way. So what, you’re too scared to hurt my feelings? You’re doing a wonderful job, keep it up.”
“What the fuck do you mean, not see you like what?”
“Don’t pretend to be dumb Eddie. When we first met I tried so hard to get your attention, asking you to hang out, and you always blew me off. It’s fine that you don’t want to date me or whatever, but at least just tell me that, don’t fuck me like I’m special or something and then toss me aside. I deserve better than that.”
“Yeah, y/n, you do,” his voice was no longer guilt stricken, and was on the same straightforward plane as your last responses, “you deserve so much fucking better than me, that’s why I could never let anything between us happen. I don’t call girls back. I’m rude. I don’t take care of myself, let alone others. I like to smoke, and drink, and get head from girls in bar bathrooms and never learn their names, and that’s not the kind of person that a girl like you dates. I’m a fun quick fuck. You’re the kind of girl that after three dates he’ll already have a ring picked out. You’re everything, and I’m nothing, so forgive me for sparing you of that.”
Your bones are frozen and the beat of silence gives him the opportunity to spin on his heel and start down the hallway, presumably to get your panties. 
Snapping back into it, you let out a louder than expected, “Hey,” and you start following him, not taking long to catch up to him in his bedroom. 
“You,” you point a finger at him, and start to feel the rage bubble up again, “don’t get to decide that you’re unloveable. And you don’t get to tell me what kind of girl I am. Have you ever considered that maybe the reason you’re so lonely and miserable is because you choose to be? You don’t get to decide what I deserve, I do. And I really fucking like you Eddie, so forgive me for acting like it.” 
You snatch your underwear off his bedside table, and give him a look, not fueled by anger or resentment, but empathy. 
“I’m going to leave. And if you don’t want to see me again, that’s fine, but if you do, you can call me. Goodbye Eddie.”
You feel out of your own body, floating above it all and rewinding the conversation over and over, body on autopilot taking you home while your soul stayed behind and relived his words over and over, unsure if you feel better or worse than when you showed up. 
Days pass by again, and you take his silence as more of a response than anything he had said to you during that conversation. You try not to wallow, but you feel scattered and distraught, at both the prospect of losing Eddie and having to deal with your shared friends, would they allow you to dance around each other, or would they flat out choose him and shut you out? Would group nights out bowling suddenly just turn into the occasional one-on-one coffee with Robin? 
Until suddenly, on a random Tuesday afternoon when you've gotten home from work and are relaxing on the couch in your pajamas, three knocks are at your door.
At this point you figured it was over. He hadn't called and he'd made no effort to continue the dialogue. So a thought of Eddie doesn't even cross your mind in between the couch and opening the door.
And there he is.
In a suit, slightly descheveld in Eddie fashion, and holding a slightly wilting bouquet of flowers. Posture straight and brave face, but expecting your brutal edge upon answering the door nonetheless.
"Hey?" you're somewhat at a loss for words answering.
"Hi," he seems like he's running lines of a play in his mind, "I was hoping we could talk."
You reluctantly let him in, and he hands the flowers to you, as if it was a normal occurrence for him to bring you such a gift.
"First off," he starts, hardly breaching your living room entrance before starting his apology, "I regret the way we last left things, and I'm sorry for leaving you waiting for a response."
He flicks those big brown eyes at you and you can't help but give him the benefit of the doubt, he always was so sincere with his words.
"You're amazing. And although I'll remain adamant that I don't deserve someone like you in my life, I've been thinking a lot about what you said, and I'm sorry that tried to tell you how to feel."
You remain stoic at your seat on the couch, watching him shift his weight and bare his soul to you.
"You're perfect. Nice, funny, sexy, brave, all of it. And if you're willing to give me a chance, I don't know why the fuck you would, but if you are, I want to put aside all my bullshit and try this out, if you'll have me."
He stood there for a moment, letting you take in his request, bouquet in hand and suit adorned.
"And I owe you a few dates, for real."
As hard as you want your exterior to be, a smile cracks through.
"Okay, but know I don't fuck until the third date, at best," you jab, breaking his nervous exterior and visibly relieving the tension from his shoulders.
"I'm somewhat of a refined gentleman myself, so that won't be an issue," he bows and extends a hand to you.
You pull him down by the hand onto the couch with you, wrapping him up in a deep kiss. He was worth it, and you both knew it was worth the shot to try.
5K notes · View notes
nogenderbee · 3 months
Text
♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ ℙ𝕝𝕦𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕖𝕤 ₊˚ˑ༄
Tumblr media
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ anon request: Could I request Lyney, Freminet, Kazuha, and Heizou with a reader who makes plushies?
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Of course! AAAA ALL OF THEM ARE MY FAV BOYS LET'S GO!! Anyway~ I had a bit of fun with it so hope you like it!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fluff
Tumblr media Tumblr media
✧ Kazuha finds what you're doing pretty adorable
✧ he loved how you can make something so fun with just few materials and threads
✧ and if you ever happen to lack idea for new plushie... he'll be happy to tell you few stories, real or not
✧ if you actually make a plushie based on his stories, he'll melt on spot and you'd be able to see genuine smile on his face
✧ he's always on ship so if you're not part of th Crux, he'll sleep burried in your plushies when he's away (you heard stories from Beidou about that~)
✧ and if you give him one of your plushies? Oh he's not leaving your side today! In fact, he's ready to pamper your face in kisses so get ready for that once you get somewhere private!
✧ surprisingly, he recognizes all materials just by touching them! He says it's just a lucky guess but how can someone lucky guess something 30 times in a row?!!
"Those are high quality materials... You didn't had to spend so much on me... Let me treat you to a dinner for that at least."
✧ same goes for style of sewing, he'll somehow notice details like that and if he notices difficult style, you can be sure he'll compliment you for that
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
@bleachtheidiot - come get your poetic samurai~
Tumblr media
✧ Heizou somehow notices any time you have or lack any idea
✧ if you have one, he'll make it a fun game for himself to get to know what is it without asking you about it directly
✧ but if you lack it, he'll randomly drop small story or two untill it catches your attention, tho if you look closely, there's small smirk on his face
✧ similiar to boy alone, he also guesses materials quite quickly tho it's more of an experience rather than lucky guess
✧ it's actually useful to be able to tell difference between materials, so he most likely knows at least the basics
✧ but one thing he loves doing is teasing you when you desperately try to hide you're planning a toy for him but you still want to make sure he'll like it
"Hei! What do you think of this? Soft enough?"
"Hm... I would guess so, yes. But why are you asking me that instead of person who'll receive it?"
"I d- They just deserve it!"
"Mhm~ Whatever you say, dear."
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
@bleachtheidiot - come get your flirty detective~
Tumblr media
✧ Lyney can't help but smile every time you present him with new idea, prototype or plushie
✧ he thinks this job suits you and is often amazed when you start rambling about different types of materials and the difference between each of them
✧ whenever you present a plushie and asks for opinion, he'll take his time to show he takes you seriously and check plushie from every side, squeeze it, hug it... and then he tells you what he thinks in details!
✧ but he likes to be playful sometimes, he'll take the plushie, inspect it and then pull disappearing and reapearing trick off leaving him chuckling and hopefully you too
"For me?! Oh mon cherie... I absolutely love it! It's the perfect color... and it's so soft too~ Mwah! Hehe, why won't I repeat it on creator now~?"
✧ prepare yourself mentally to see this plushie on his performances and for Lynette to tell you the cutest gossips about him and his new plushie
✧ and if you give him a plushie that you designed specifically for him? Well... you know how clingy he usually is? Multiply it by 10
✧ he'll spoil you with not singular rainbow rose but biggest bouquet of them he could find, takes you to a fancy restaurant and of course, hold your hand and hugs you all day long
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
@bleachtheidiot - come get your charming magician~
Tumblr media
✧ Freminet is actually happy both of you have something in common, I mean... you both like to create?
✧ the only difference in what you do is that he creates out of metal and you create our of softer materials
✧ if you have a penguin plushie that you often carry with you, there's no wonder even Pers was interested! Who knows? Maybe little robot feel in love like the creator~?
"I love it, it's cute~ Heh, and Pers loves it too I guess... You really did a great job with that plushie."
✧ he knows how it is to struggle from lack of ideas or to need someone to check your sketch, so he'll be more than happy to do that if you ask him
✧ when it comes to materials... he's not the worst but he will get similar ones mistaken usually
✧ first time you made a plushie for him, he felt like he didn't deserve it and needed to repay you as soon as possible
✧ but with time, he learned to just accept it and repay you when the ocassion happens. Maybe he'll just pay for dinner? Or you'll see some robot in the movie and he makes it for you?
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
@bleachtheidiot - come get your shy diver~
302 notes · View notes
starchaserwrites · 4 months
Text
@jegulus-microfic / february 3: king / word count: 281
"Good afternoon, you have reached the after-sales service of Estrella's Beds & Beyond Emporium. My name is Regulus, how can I assist you today?"
"Hi, I recently received a new king size mattress that I bought from you guys, but I'm not really completely satisfied with my purchase."
"I'm sorry to hear that, could you please give me some details about what didn't meet your expectations so that I can better understand and address your concerns?"
"Sure! Well, the delivery service was good, they even gave me instructions on how to look after my new purchase. The mattress seems to be really optimal, it is obvious that it is made of high quality materials and it also seems to comply with the motion isolation and adaptability systems promised by your company. It is even environmentally friendly!"
"Excuse me, but I fail to see the problem here. It actually sounds like an excellent investment."
"'Yeah, the thing is, it's crucial for me to find out how it will react under more strenuous conditions, if you know what I mean, so I need someone to help me test its capacity.'"
"How terribly inconsiderate of us not to think about that. Would it be all right if I send one of our highly trained assistants today? He can be there in less than twenty minutes if you agree."
"Oh, that would be perfect, thank you so much!"
"Before we finish, how would you rate my assistance during this call on a scale of 1 to 10? 1 being completely unsatisfactory and 10 being completely satisfactory."
"Eleven, hurry up, please!"
"Really eager, Potter, aren't you?"
"For you? Always."
"See you at home in a minute, baby."
227 notes · View notes
the-travelling-witch · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
summary: i'm back on my "'i have more knowledge on x topic than all your advisers together, i just couldn’t progress through the ranks for one reason or another, so you should definitely make me your concubine, so i can gossip about your minister of finance’s stupid proposal while wearing expensive shit and fine dining and then we slowly fall in love' royal au" bs again, so have some rambles because there are a lot of possible constellations here
characters: shouto :: kenma :: inui/koko :: al-haitham/kaveh x gn! reader
general masterlist
Tumblr media
𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐎
You could practically feel the daggers being glared into your skull. This entire meeting so far, the prince’s closest adviser had narrowed his eyes at you, a gesture which you only returned with a coy smile.
Really, just because it wasn’t common for a royal concubine to attend a meeting concerning safety measures at the upcoming masquerade ball, there was no need for such hostility.
Then again, maybe the adviser was so foul-tempered because of the physical position you found yourself in. But it wasn’t your fault they hadn’t prepared another seat for you or that Shouto was notoriously unbothered with social etiquette. So, if the prince ordered his concubine to sit on his lap instead, who were you to argue?
You doubted he glared at you because he was aware you had been investigating him or that you knew he and his fellow spies were planning an assassination attempt on the royal whose arm was currently lazily curled around your waist.
Surely, “concubine” was not exactly the title you had had in mind when agreeing to work as an intelligence agent on the Todoroki court but considering the former crown prince Touya had basically gone up in smoke after an attempt on his life, placing yourself right next to the prince where an enemy wouldn’t expect might not be a bad idea.
Besides, since you had taken the prince up on his offer, you had been able to enjoy many luxuries you could previously not even dream of. Delicacies practically melted on your tongue, the material of your clothes was of a quality so fine it was like dressing in air and the library held rare books you normally couldn’t get your hands on just like that.
You also had to admit, pretending to be Shouto’s lover wasn’t exactly torture either. Not only was he as handsome as they come but he was also very well-mannered towards you even in private. The clumsy side only few got to see when he let his guard down was also quite adorable.
So, to say you were quite comfortable where you were and had no intention of giving up your spot any time soon was an understatement.
“Your Highness is it really necessary to bring,” the adviser paused momentarily as he gestured at you, “this person to a meeting such as this? How can we be sure they are not working for an opposing kingdom, relaying our security measures to the enemy?”
You caught yourself before a snort escaped you. Seriously, how was nobody onto this guy before you came around?
“I have no doubt about their loyalty to me and the kingdom,” Shouto said, tone even as always, yet his hand around your waist tightened. “Besides, their safety might be compromised just like mine, so this information should be shared with them as well.”
“That’s right,” you goated, a sharp grin on your lips as you reached backwards over your shoulder to run your fingers down Shouto‘s neck as you held eye contact with the adviser. “I’ve shown my devotion to the prince in ways you never could.”
Soon you’d watch the light drain from his eyes as you ended his miserable life but for now you’d find amusement in how they widened in indignation.
Tumblr media
𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐀
“Your Highness! I must ask you to stay in the medic’s quarters!” Said medic was fussing around you as you pulled the outer layer of your clothes back on. “I dressed the wound and used a minor healing spell but you need to rest! A-and your medicine—“
“I can rest in my quarters too,” you sighed, already halfway out of the door. “Someone will come pick up the treatment later.”
The medic was still stammering long after you already set out towards your room, trying not to put too much pressure on your side. You didn’t think it’d be that big of a deal but apparently the monster’s claws that had grazed your skin were laced in some sort of venom, the pain of which left you wheezing when you received another blow to the stomach.
Half stumbling, half falling into your room, you reckoned whatever spell the medic had cast hadn’t done much to rid your body of the poison, especially if you remembered how he had floundered once you first drudged into the infirmary. No wonder you had gone behind your parents’ backs to employ someone who actually understood his craft.
“Whoa what happened to you?” Kenma lifted his head from his magic-driven game board at the sound of the door opening. His sharp amber eyes studied you from head to toe, taking in the ripped clothes and collection of bruises and scratches. “You look like death chewed you up and spit you back out.”
“Thanks,” you retorted just as sarcastically, working to rid yourself of the rest of your armour, wincing when you strained the area around your ribs. “Must be the poison.”
“Poison?” Immediately, Kenma had perked up, already rounding the table, his game forgotten. “What poison? And where? And why didn’t you lead with that?”
Usually, the guy tried to make himself as small as possible, hoping to blend into the background. But whenever you dragged in yet another weird and wonderful ailment from out in the wild, your shy healer found himself in the habit of becoming a little bossy. Other royals might take offence if their concubines used that kind of tone but you had to admit you didn’t really mind.
“Well, it’s not like you gave me much of a chance to explain,” you laughed, pulling your shirt off and letting it pile up with the rest of your things, then wriggled your eyebrows at the blond. “So, where do you want me?”
“You are the worst, even when you’re dying,” Kenma rolled his eyes before a warm hand settled on your bare back and nudged you towards the bed. “For now, just lie down. And tell me exactly what the hell happened to you.”
Without any resistance, you settled down and watched as Kenma got to work. It was fascinating each time, even if you didn’t understand much of it and you were the one having to be treated. Whenever he focused on something, he adopted this no-nonsense expression, lips tightened into a line and eyebrows drawn together. You didn’t even want to start thinking about the way your skin tingled where his fingers touched you, well aware that the reason for it wasn’t the magic Kenma used.
“I told the doc someone would pick up my medicine later,” you spoke up once your healer had finished his work and both of you were just lingering within the same space.
As always when you told Kenma something he didn’t want to hear, he made one of the most expressive faces of disgust a human could muster.
“I’ll make sure to trip on the way,” he shrugged and you were aware he might actually do it too. “I didn’t spend all this time healing you just so that idiot can poison you again with whatever concoction he came up with this time.”
“Just what would I do without you?” Brushing a stray strand of hair out of his eyes, you didn’t miss how Kenma, the guy who used to flinch at people coming near him, leaned slightly into your touch.
Tumblr media
𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐈 / 𝐊𝐎𝐊𝐎
The golden light of the sinking sun illuminated the balcony as birds chirped their last songs of the day. In the midst of the flowers blooming across the railing and the castle walls, three people sat around a table filled with fruits, cheese and many other delicious foods, eating and laughing together.
“But to come back to your Minister of Finance’s proposal,” Koko, who seemingly hadn’t taken his eyes off the kingdom’s budget sheet, spoke up. Splitting off a few of the coins from the stack in front of him to visualise the share he was thinking about, he offered his insight. “I think we should use a cut of the newly allocated funds to strengthen the army’s equipment. The knights could do with new armour, especially considering the neighbouring kingdom has been less than friendly lately.”
“What new funds are we talking about?” You inquired, not having been privy to the meeting prior this day. 
“The party we sent out recently was more successful than we expected them to be,” Inui clued you in with a small smile as he studied what Koko proposed.
“Ah, the expedition that was my idea and that I equipped with the right tools. In that case,” you said, a mischievous glint in your eyes, before you made the stack of coins levitate over your outstretched palm, “I think we should use it to build a magic tower. It would help more with defence than equipping the knights, considering what fun things I could do with one.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Koko scolded, reaching over the table to snatch the coins back. “How should we justify the King’s concubine wishing for a magic tower?”
While you shrugged, Seishu took your hand and answered much gentler than the black haired man. 
“I have to agree with Koko. Not because I doubt you could do a lot of great things with such a tower but because we already had a lot of trouble explaining why the lightning only struck the enemy’s side in the last battle,” he sighed, giving you an understanding look he knew had you giving in already. “The public doesn’t know we have a magic user on our side and word of construction would spread fast. Don’t forget why you went into hiding in the first place.”
“Yeah yeah, I understand, no magic tower. But, how about,” you leant back in your chair, tossing a coin you had hidden up your sleeve before Koko could retrieve it, “one or the other magic tome? Nobody would even notice. Just say it’s for a new necklace or whatever else concubines usually get.”
“Are you suggesting we commit fraud?” Koko levelled his accusatory gaze at you.
“I don’t know, am I?” You innocently asked, batting your eyelashes at him. “It would be for the good of the people, after all.”
“How is you getting a new toy good for the people?”
“I could make the grains grow faster or whatever the people usually pray for,” you shrugged. “I’m at least granting their wishes.”
“I thought you were interested in necromancy recently,” Seishu laughed knowingly. “I’m no expert in the field but how is that helping with making the crops grow?”
“I’m sure a walking dead body or two would scare off the crows,” you said as seriously as you could. “It might also scare off thieves, now that I think about it.”
Koko just looked at you, horrified, while Seishu laughed at your nonchalance. When the former regained his senses, he reprimanded you again. 
“We are not using tax money, so you can experiment with the undead and unleash them on the public!”
“Eh, it was worth a try,” you relented before popping another grape in your mouth.
Tumblr media
𝐀𝐋-𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌 / 𝐊𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐇
You were well aware of the whispers that filled the halls of the castle when you weren’t present. 
Kaveh was probably a more conventional concubine to take, considering his innate kindness and striking beauty. Clearly, when he waltzed into the room beside you, it was like the sun was rising before everyone’s eyes. Yeah, he was probably an expected choice.
Al-Haitham, on the other hand…
It wasn’t exactly his physique which raised people’s questions. Moreso it was his gruff temper and apparent boredom with most topics, burying his nose in a book and brushing people off with less than a single word at times, that made your staff shake their heads at your appointment.
Not that it mattered much what other people thought.
What did matter, however, was that your country’s infrastructure had improved significantly since you made your peculiar choice of companions. After most critical meetings concerning upcoming construction, your subordinates believed your return to your chambers meant you just had to relieve some pent-up stress. Yet, those “steamy” nights were spent hunched over maps and graphs of your nation, pointing out the flaws in your advisers’ proposals and redoing blueprints of planned buildings.
Perhaps nobody else in the castle was aware of it, but Al- Haitham and Kaveh were a genius strategist and brilliant architect respectively, responsible for the projects the public praised you most for. And that had been the nature of your relationship in the beginning. They patched out your advisers’ proposals and you made sure they were compensated accordingly, unconventional as the methods may be.
Though, you supposed, after working together for a while, the titles you had given them may not be so wrong anymore. Long nights spent agonising over the ideal location for a new project had turned into quiet evenings lounging around your quarters, enjoying fine wine and lingering touches. Having the two around had become a great sense of comfort to you and running into them between meetings and stacks of paperworks waiting for you made a spark of fondness flutter in your chest.
However, running into both of them at the same time also meant the unlikely pair were probably bickering. This time, you could actually hear them before you rounded the corner.
“I’m telling you, if we use this type of wood-”
“It would rot under the environmental influences faster than you could complete construction.”
“Why, you…!”
Pinching the bridge of your nose, you exhaled ready to calm down the situation somehow. Then, you came face to face with them and had an entirely new idea on how to mediate. Haitham had his arms crossed as he regarded the blond with an unimpressed expression, the pose accentuating the way his biceps and triceps flexed. With Kaveh turned away from you, you had a clear view of his back, as always exposed by the flowy robes he wore.
Sure, they might not be the most usual concubines you could’ve chosen, but that didn’t matter.
“Strategy meeting in my quarters, now. Royal orders.”
Tumblr media
© the-travelling-witch 2024 - do not repost, translate, copy or edit; do not copy into an ai
if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡
Tumblr media
➺ send in an ask to be added to or removed from my tag list
i think @ryuryuryuyurboat was interested in the idea? have some incoherent rambles then jsjsh
Tumblr media
191 notes · View notes
atzfilm · 1 year
Text
— the most lonely creature (m)
Tumblr media
〰️ pairing; k.yeosang/f.reader
〰️ word count; [35.9k]
〰️ genre; dragon serpent!au, water god, fantasy
〰️ summary; finding a yeouiju in the forest brings terrors unlike you've ever seen– in the shape of a water god
〰️ warnings under cut
content; use of explicit language, mythology (not completely accurate), smut, mate mentions, injuries, Blood, Strong Language, cursing, dehydration, anxiety, age gap, double penetration, marking 
-
You brush off your sleeve, glaring at the tree that prickled the fabric. You stretch your shirt slightly, seeing the small, dime-sized hole it left. Your friend insisted that this material was high quality, the best of the best. But from that small hole from a branch, you wonder if he only thought this because he saw it in one of those buy-it-or-you’ll-lose-the-discount commercials. You roll your eyes, giving the branch another pointed look before continuing your climb.
You love the outdoors. The soft breeze that flows through the air, the sounds of the animals and insects speaking to one another. Sometimes you'd see a deer dash through the thick brush, too quick for you to admire its beauty. The fresh air that you adore; better than the city, filled with noises of angry people and an odd odor that never seemed to fade. You breathe in and out slowly, sweat coating your forehead.
Your former coworkers always wondered why you loved being in the mountains by yourself, instead of in the office with everyone else, slaving over a desktop and complaining about the cheap coffee. But what can you say? Maybe listening to them whine about the broken air-conditioner for what had to be the hundredth time finally struck a nerve. And who wouldn't want to be outdoors? The sounds of nature are all you listened to. And nothing could be better than that.
After about an hour of hiking, you spot a coursing river. You raise a brow. A river? This high? You stumble along the rocks and sit by its side, watching as the clear water flows over the rocks and misses easily, disappearing down the steel tilt of the mountain. You reach down, letting the clear water roll along your skin, a small dent in the ever flowing current.
It feels almost oddly lukewarm, a bit like a hot spring. It's strange. You glance up, the sun beaming down on your surroundings. Could it be that? Your eyes move over to the opposite side of the river, a glowing light catching your eye.
You glance at the river, large rocks making a strangely perfect path across the water. You debate in your head whether to ignore the shiny object in the distance, or take the risk to cross the water. It doesn't even look too deep if you slipped. You bite your lip, before deciding. You toss your bag over your shoulder tightly before taking the first step on to the rocks. Your hiking boots aren't cheap, but they're made for tougher terrain so you assume that they would work easily on this surface.
You slowly cross, making sure you're fully stable before moving on to the next one. It's a lengthy process, hands trembling as you finally toss yourself into the small pile of leaves on the bank of the river, cushioning your fall. After taking a few seconds to breathe, you dust off your clothes and look at the object you couldn't help but feel drawn to. You crouch town, pushing the grass away.
It looks almost like a large pearl, a bit dusty and covered in grime. But as you wipe it away with your fingers, the shine peaks through, its outer layer egg white. You pick it up, surprised at how lightweight it is. It has to be less than two pounds, but with its size you'd assume it would be much heavier. Nothing scratched your interest on what it is, and the only person that comes to mind is your old office buddy.
Wooyoung. Wooyoung would know what this is.
You opened your bag, lightly pushing it between your belongings before standing up. The sun's beginning to set, and you'd rather not be out here, not when you're not the best hiker. You glance at the spot once more, before walking back the way you came.
-
You walk through your door, tossing your bag into the mud room and kicking your shoes off. You send little kisses to your fish before walking into the kitchen, pouring water into the pot and placing it on the stove.
"Oh shit the Pearl," You run back, looking through your bag and seeing it shine at you. You wash it off in the kitchen, then place it next to the window by your door. It glows softly in the low sunlight. You stare at it for a bit, before dialing your person.
He picks up after only one ring.
"It's almost 6pm so it's not late enough for a booty call," is the first thing he says. He's sitting in his office, knickknacks piled on shelves behind him.
Jung Wooyoung. The bravest man alive, at least in your book. When you were an intern at your editing company, he was one of your superiors. Compared to everyone else he was much more mellow, not caring much about deadlines and always encouraging the people underneath him to take their time with assignments. It didn't bring much favor to him whenever all the departments had meetings, but he always had excellent reviews from the authors. And that made the management hate Wooyoung just as much as they loved him.
Once you were transferred to Wooyoung's department, a soft hello and a tasty coffee made you both best friends. You were inseparable; assignments were given to you and he always stayed by your side to joke about his team or to laugh at the typos some authors did. Every moment spent with him was amazing, and if you were honest with yourself, you did have a little crush on him. At least until he told you that he didn't really imagine himself with someone. That he loved artifacts and stories more than people. It’s more of a fondness now than anything else.
But that day. The day that Jung Wooyoung poured coffee on your department manager. The day that Jung Wooyoung leaped out of your office, high speed and was followed by what had to be dozens of security guards. The day that Jung Wooyoung decided to quit editing and to be a historian, searching for artifacts and educating people when necessary.
And damn he is good at it. You know how smart he is, but never in your life did you think he'd open his own shop in the city and be one of your wealthiest friends within a span of years. Him leaving your office is probably the reason why you wanted to work at home. He's bold enough to go for his dreams, and you felt that too.
"I'm not calling you for a booty call, idiot," You snort, and he laughs. "What's up? How's it going?"
"Ah, you know the usual. Rich men walking in with their trophy wives and wanting to buy one of my babies for way less than it's valued. And then the wives pout and he puts out some extra cash to buy it," he frowns as he looks at his papers. "Did I tell you how much I hate millionaires? All they do is take money and sleep with it."
"Aren't you a millionaire?" You say through a soft smile.
He nods. "My point exactly."
He grabs something off the shelf behind him, before showing it to you. "Hyung came into my shop the other day and said he found this letter from the twelfth century. It's a love letter," Wooyoung traces the words delicately. "It's a bit cheesy, I think you'd like it."
"Yunho really came into your shop to give you a letter? How much did you give him for it?"
Wooyoung sighs. "Nothing. All he wanted was a date."
"That's cute," You laugh, and Wooyoung rolls his eyes.
"It would be, if I didn't say yes."
You blink. Yes? He said yes? You try to keep your face as straight as possible, his eyes moving to the camera. You don't notice the longing in them, they want to hear you protest and say that no, you don't think that going on that date is okay. But all you do is smile, and nod.
"I think you deserve a date, Woo. You've been cooped up in that shop for so long, time to explore the outside world," You move your face closer to the screen. "And from what I can see, you probably haven't showered in days."
"Ah, you're not my Mom," He sighs. "Why did you want to call me anyway? Just to make fun of me?"
You bring your phone with you, flipping the camera to the back one. Your stone sits in the same spot, no longer glowing like before. Wooyoung leans closer to the screen as you align the camera.
"I was hiking and found this thing in the underbrush. I wiped it off a bit 'cause it was dirty but I have no clue what it is?" You say the last bit as a question.
Wooyoung stares at it, his head cocked to the side slightly. He pouts a bit, and you hold back your aww's, knowing he loves being called cute a bit too much. He'd probably go on about it for a week.
"Is it heavy?"
"Nope," You reply. "Can't be more than a few pounds, give or take."
"What kind of color is it? I know it's white, but is it more pink-white or a yellow-white?"
You move the camera out of the way, squinting your eyes at it. "Probably more yellow-white? A bit darker than an egg."
"I can't really tell from this camera to be honest. It can't be a pearl, because it's too big. Almost like the size of a fist. And it isn't heavy either. Would you mind if I came over to your house tomorrow? I'll probably see it better that way."
You flip the camera back to your face. "Will I ever say no to a visit from my favorite person in this universe?" You say, "And I can finally give you your nasty underwear that's been here for way too long. I'm tired of staring at them in my drawer."
"Are they... in your underwear drawer?"
You glare at the screen. "How old are you again, dirty old man? I'm hanging up, see you at twelve!"
He opens his mouth but you've already ended the call, tossing your phone on the counter. You wince as it slides all the way off, the loud drop echoing around your small home. You glance over to make sure it's safe, before walking around it, throwing yourself dramatically on the couch and letting out a sigh.
Your eyes travel back to the strange orb-like thing, sitting next to the window. Whatever it is, you know it's only a reason to not work on the next editing of your client's story. You love the story, actually. Filled with more sci-fi elements than you could think of. You're sure that she's going to become the next James something one day. But goodness, the angst. You needed breaks in between or else you'd be sobbing over a bowl of ice cream, questioning your life choices and wondering if you'd ever find someone that loved you as much.
You push those thoughts away, running your fingers through your hair slowly. Tomorrow's a long day.
-
A knock on the door makes you put your coffee to the side, eyes flicking to the window next to your door. Wooyoung stands there, waving his arms frantically. You grin at him, hopping off the stool and opening the door. He immediately walks in without even saying a good morning. At least he kicks his shoes to the side, walking around the small hallways until his eyes land on the sphere next to your window.
He leans forward, poking it lightly with his finger. "This is the strangest thing I've ever seen," he mumbles, rubbing it with his thumb. "Where did you find this again?"
"Next to the river in the mountains about an hour out from here. I thought I was an egg from an ostrich or something-” He gives you a deadpanned look at that comment- “But it doesn’t sound like anything is inside. It’s not hollow, which is weird because if not-”
“Then this thing would have to weigh at least ten pounds,” Wooyoung murmurs. “Do you mind if I pick it up?”
“Be my guest,” you say, gesturing to it. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me. Just don’t make too much of a mess, yeah? We both know how you get around new things.” A literal mind boner, you think, walking back into the kitchen.
You listen to him play around with it, mumbling his thoughts to himself as you sip your coffee. After about twenty-ish minutes, he runs back into the kitchen, flopping himself on the stool across from you.
“You have to take me to where you found it!” He says, giddy in his chair. You purse your lips, shaking your head.
“I don’t think I want to go back there,” You mumble, taking another sip. “It’s a bit of a ways away. And my legs are sore from yesterday. Plus, I barely edited today and it’s due in two weeks.” You complain, and he scoffs.
“You told me about this thing, and you don’t even want to show me where you got it from? How could you?” He pouts, hand over his chest as he glares at you.
“Wooyoung, you don’t even have hiking-”
“All of it is in the car. I always come prepared,” He says, and winks. “In any situation.”
“You’re disgusting,,” You tease, and he laughs. “Alright, we can do it. But for crying out loud, if you scream at a bee we’re going to turn right around and come back. I’m serious, Woo.”
He frowns. “I am not scared of bees, y/n.”
You raise a brow. “We’ll see.”
-
“Fuck, did you see that?”
“It was a fly, Woo, a fly.”
He laughs nervously, “Ah, I was just testing you.”
You two climb slowly, Wooyoung not far behind you. He jumped a bit at various things, but oddly didn’t at snakes mating. Instead he watched, until you called him a creep and he walked away. You’re almost at the spot where you found it, the sound of running water and the smell seeping into your nose. You glance back at him to make sure he’s close behind, before pushing past some leaves and overgrown plants to reveal the beautiful river.
It’s a bit drier now, but it seems to glow slightly when you enter, as if to give you a soft Welcome. You stand there for a moment, hands resting on your chest as you admire the water. It’s clear enough to see the bottom, various species of sea life swimming through, oblivious to this outside world. Wooyoung finally makes it next to you, breathing heavily.
He opens his mouth to complain, but his eyes widen at the scenery, looking at you. You smile softly at your surroundings, lost in your own thoughts. He doesn’t dare interrupt; he loves seeing you like this the most. You take a couple more moments to breathe in the fresh air before turning to him.
“You see those stepping stones in the middle?” He nods. “That’s what I used to get across. It was close to the bank of the river, hiding a bit in the mud.”
“Interesting,” he begins walking to the stepping stones, and you follow close behind. Just because he knows about these artifacts doesn’t mean he knows nature; he spends more time in his office than the sun.
"Be careful-" You utter, watching as his shoes slip slightly on the pebbles. He looks back at you. His purse is tight around his waist, hair pulled into a small bun on the top of his head. He sticks his tongue at you.
"Real mature," You mumble, and he laughs. You don't notice how close his left foot is to the water, his grip on the rocks slipping. He looks back at you in panic before falling back into the water.
"Wooyoung!" You yell, reaching out and grabbing him by a strap on his travel bag.
He lurks forward, and you reach onto one of the big stones. The rock digs into your fingers and you curse to yourself, grinding your teeth as you try to hold onto him and yourself. But the river...
It has other ideas.
The current picks up immediately, flinging you back from the rocks you desperately held onto. Wooyoung struggles to grab something, anything in his grasp, but the branches are too far away from him. You turn around, your head bobbing up and down from the depths as you try to think of a way to get out. But your feet don't even touch the bottom, and you feel the panic begin to rise in your chest.
"Fuck, I'm sorry y/n, I wish that there was someway we could get out of this-!"
You turn your head, spotting a stump not too far from where you two are. With all the strength you can muster, you yank him through the water. You wrap your arm around the stump, Wooyoung holding on tight as well. You both catch a breath, before he begins to laugh.
Your anger subsides, and you giggle with him as well. "Fuck you! We could've died!" You yell, splashing water at him.
He chuckles slowly as the two of you make your way back to dry land. "You didn't tell me how slippery it was. I could've died!" He jokes.
"Keep talking like that and I'll throw you back in there, idiot." You grumble.
The two of you finally make it to shore, breathing heavily. He flops on his back,chest rising and falling. You lay next to him, your hair slapping against your cheek. You two don't say anything for a moment, heart still pumping at the rise of adrenaline. You glance back at the log, watching as it detached itself from its spot and continued down the river, falling over the incline and from your sight. It was a miracle; it suddenly appeared as you turned your head. You were sure the both of you were done for; but you suppose that that's how life works.
Wooyoung leans up, picking leaves off his clothing. He looks at you, "Hey. I'm sorry, I wasn't paying close enough attention-"
You wave him off. "As long as we're alive, you don't have to say sorry. Now, if we both fell and I had to walk with your sorry ass to the gates of Hell, we would've had some issues."
"Hell?" He frowns. "I'm too good for that."
"You saying that brought you a little bit closer to burning for eternity."
You two continue to tease one another as you walk back down the mountain, the small orb of yours still tucked safely in your bag. Through the laughs and pushes, you notice Wooyoung wince. You look down, a slash on his left forearm, bleeding profusely. After much protest from him, once you get down the mountain you insist on bringing him to the hospital. Even though he whines for a bit, you call Yunho; the one person you can count on to bring him there in one piece.
He picks up after the first ring.
"Papa's pizzeria, delivery or pickup?" Yunho asks, and you sigh, rubbing your forehead. These two idiots are plucked from the same tree.
"Woo is hurt and I need you to take him to the hospital," You hear him stumble over something in the background, and your frown deepens. Maybe you'll just bring him yourself? You already have to deal with enough as it is, and if you're being honest with yourself, delaying your editing for another day won't do much to your workload. You'd still procrastinate until the last second.
"How hurt? Did he get his finger stuck in the garbage disposal again?" You hear him fumble with something, "I told him to stop sticking things down there, and here we are."
"I think he'll tell you the story once you get there, since he won't let me bring him," You glance back at pouting Woo, "I think he's a bit embarrassed," You whisper.
"I'm right here!" He complains, and you snort.
"I'll be there in ten minutes, make sure he elevates his finger and stays away from the sink. I'll wait in the car-" Yunho stops in the middle of his talk. “Wait. Please tell me he didn’t try that butt thing again.”
You’re quiet for a moment. Wooyoung takes the phone out of your hand, and you stare at him, a brow raised. He turns away from you, but you can still see the blush that brushes his cheeks.
“Stop saying stupid things and get here already before I bleed out and die, okay?” He ends the call, turning to you. “Some things are better left unsaid.”
-
Yunho stands across from Wooyoung, clicking his tongue as he examines the abrasion on his arm. "What did you do, fall off a cliff?" He scolds, and Wooyoung looks at you, a grin cracking his face.
"If you weren't so busy saving lives, I wouldn't have done this to get your attention," Wooyoung says with confidence and a wink, not noticing how red the tips of Yunho's ears get.
"Let's go to the hospital before this thing gets infected." His eyes flick to yours. "Are you okay being alone? Unless you want to come with us."
"Nah, I'm good. I have to finish up some work before leaving. Woo, please let Yun take you and don't try to convince him otherwise," You glare at Wooyoung, rubbing warm water on your cut. Yunho notices the slight winces you do, and glances in the sink.
He frowns. "I'm a doctor, and you're asking for me to ignore your hand. Sometimes, I wonder if Wooyoung's the idiot."
"Hey!" You protest, and he takes your hand out of the sink, examining it closely.
"It's only a surface wound, nothing too big. Just clean it and put a bit of antibiotic on it and change it every six hours. Let it breathe a little before replacing the band-aid and you'll be fine." He says, smiling at you.
Jeong Yunho. Before meeting Wooyoung, Yunho has been your friend for several years; probably since you were small kids, running around the playground. You were close, perhaps a little too close. Your other friends always insisted that you two should date, because you were compatible, but god, you know too much about him to even give it a second thought. He's pretty, you'd give him that. But if you could barely stand Wooyoung's jokes; Yun's were on another level. He couldn't stand five minutes without saying something stupid.
And you love him, you do. But if you had to stand that for more than a day you're sure you'd go mad. Handling one of them is enough to give you a slight headache. But two? Absolutely not. You'd rather fall down that mountain.
"Thank you Yun," You say and he nods quickly, turning back to Wooyoung.
"Time to get your ass to the hospital. I would help you myself, but technically I'm not allowed to since I haven't seen your chart," he says, and Wooyoung only rolls his eyes. He glances at your bag quickly.
"Hey, I'll look more into that orb thing okay? Don't miss my call or else, y/n," he points a finger at you, before following Yunho out to the car. You wave them off, a coffee in hand. Once they drive far enough away, you close the door behind you.
You dig through your bag, placing the orb back in its spot by the window. You think back to the river, a frown on your lips as you stroke the sphere. It still had plenty of water in it, but not enough, you think. You wish silently that it goes back to its original shape, worry about your features. Global warming is a bitch.
You let go of the ball, placing your cup in the dishwasher and stretching your arms. You're exhausted from everything that's happened today, but you still have to edit that angst, sobbing-over-your-popcorn story. So you puff out your chest, taking one last look at the shiny orb shining softly before walking into your dungeon.
-
Wooyoung is fine, he just had a few bruises and they stitched up his abrasion on his arm. Yunho told you the whole story, from Wooyoung's loud screaming to the nurse frantically looking at him and asking if he needed to be sedated. And even with Yunho there, Wooyoung almost stopped the circulation of blood in his arm from how tight he was holding onto him. You can only imagine how dramatic he was; Wooyoung is all bark and no bite.
You flick off a stray leaf from your arm. Some would say you're out of your mind for coming out there without even a week passing since you two almost killed yourselves crossing the river. You know Yunho would have a fit, locking you inside your home and not letting you see the light of day for a month minimum. But you consider yourself a bit fearless, so what's so bad about climbing the mountain again? Seeing the pretty water and having a picnic next to the river?
You finally make it to the spot. A rush of calm flows over you as you set up your spot, lightly flapping your blanket over the forest floor and taking out your small snacks. You sit next to the water as you sip your tea. There's so much more water now, completely different from a couple of days ago. A bit of it splashes against the sides of the bank, some falling over you like a mist. You hum softly, taking a bite of your sandwich.
Your eyes flick over to the other side of the river, and you stop what you're doing. A small cabin is there; it's dark wood almost masking itself against the foliage behind it. You raise your eyebrows in confusion. That couldn't have always been there; there was no way you and Wooyoung would miss it. You tuck the rest of your food away, standing up.
Vines creep along the sides of the small home, flowers decorate the bottom of the windows. It looks a bit old but well kept, signs of someone living there clearly seen. A small part of you is curious, fingers itching to see what's inside. But you shake your head. There could be someone in there right now, and you could be invading their space. You glance down at the blanket.
You could be on someone's property right now.
You crouch down, folding up your blanket as quickly as you can. A creak makes you stop what you're doing, eyes moving back across the river. A man locks the door behind him, staring down at the river. His eyes move along the bank, confusion in his gaze. You look back down, packing away your things. No need to attract more attention to yourself. You shove it in your bag, looking back across the water.
The man's eyes are frozen on yours, an unnaturally bright blue, almost as translucent as the water below you. You don't move, his eyebrows furrowing as he stares at you. You feel a strange feeling roll over you, your skin prickling and your hairs standing straight up. Whatever this man... thing is, you know he's not friendly. He takes a step forward, and your body moves into overdrive. You throw your bag onto your back, running through the forest.
You try your best to leap over the rocks and fallen sticks in your way, desperate to get away from him. You hear the stomping of his feet behind you, your heart beating in your ear blocking out most sounds. Your feet catch onto a piece of bark sticking out of a stump, and you stumble before falling onto your back. You hear his steps getting closer and closer, and you try standing up, but curse, staring at your leg. A deep gash covers your calf, and you try your best to hold back your tears.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
His voice is right behind you, and you tense up, quickly turning your head around to face him. He stands above you, arms crossed. His blue eyes narrow, pupils similar to a snake's. He cocks his head to the side, glancing quickly at your leg before flicking back to your face.
“Why are you here?”
You open your mouth, before closing it. This man could be a serial killer, ready to kill you at the slightest mistake in your words. You’re sure that he knows what you’re thinking from the inquisitive look in his eyes. He’s waiting for you to lie, he’s waiting for you to make something up.
“I was having a picnic. Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t know this was someone’s property–"
“You shouldn’t be able to see me.” He says plainly. “How can you see me? Have you visited a witch? Are you dying?” He presses you for answers, taking a step closer. “Tell me now, Human.”
This whole situation is getting weirder by the second, so you shake your head, trying to drag yourself away from him. He grabs onto your arm, glaring at you. The bright blue pierces through you, and you quickly realize that they aren’t contacts or a stylistic choice. His eyes are really that color.
“Answer me.”
“Let go of me first, creep.”
He glances at your leg again, before letting go of your arm. You lift yourself onto the stump that tripped you up, breathing heavily. The blood leaks out of your leg slowly. You feel yourself getting lightheaded, and you rub your eyes.
“Listen, I don’t have time for this. If you want to report me to the police or something, can you just do it already? I don’t think I’ll last much longer.”
“Are you feeling faint?” He asks, crouching down to touch your leg. You wince as he brushes your cut. “You can’t leave the mountain like this.”
“Of course I can’t, idiot-”
“But I cannot help you. I need to know where Yeouiju is first. I can sense it on you.” He says, pulling back.
You huff in irritation. “I don’t know what a Yeouiju is! Can’t you just help me?”
“Yeouiju has gone missing ever since you appeared, Human. It rested in the soil next to the river. It has gone missing ever since you traveled across the waters.” His eyes move to your bag, before looking at you. He knows it’s in there, but he hasn’t said a word. “If it is not in my hands, terrible things could happen.”
You open your bag, taking it out. “I didn’t realize it wasn’t yours, I’m sorry.” You give it to his open hands, and he sucks in a shaky breath as it touches his skin. You see the stone glow slightly, before he places it in his pocket.
“You made a wish.” He says softly, “And you didn’t use it for yourself.”
It seems like he’s waiting for you to respond with something, but you keep your thoughts to yourself. He stares at you, frustrated. He shakes his head slowly, lifting you up and pressing you against his chest. You yelp, wrapping your arms around his head. His skin is cold, your hands shivering against it. He walks through the forest with ease, barely rocking you. You come to the river, and he glances down at you.
“Close your eyes, human.”
You hold them tight, and he walks. You’re not sure how he gets over the water so easily, but you open your eyes as he opens the door to his cabin. He places you down on his sofa, telling you to stay put as he disappears into another room. His home is cozy, a fireplace in the corner crackling, filling the silence. Everything looks handmade; from the chairs at his table to the clock on the door to the cabinets lining the walls. He has candles in every corner of the room, flickering softly. And the floor is… moist. You're sure every surface of the wood is wet.
You notice that he doesn’t have electricity anywhere in the house, a wood burning stove in the living room and it looks like the kitchen doesn’t even have running water. You try moving your leg but pain strikes up your calf, and you let out a low groan, biting your lip. Here you are, in a stranger’s home without anyone knowing. You curse yourself for leaving your phone at home, even though it’s no use; there’s no signal out here.
-
Yeosang stands in the opposite room, staring down at Yeouiju. He doesn’t quite understand how you were able to see and wield the orb; it could only be held by wise ones, and ones of pure heart. He hasn’t seen a human hold it in ages; it always sat outside, a stray passerby oblivious to its presence. And yet, you hold it without even knowing its power, using your wish to refuel the river’s waters.
He frowns, placing Yeouiju back on his shelf. Many humans who were able to see it in all its glory used their wishes on selfish things; riches, glory, full health for themselves, immortality. But you, you used yours to help a river. Once you took it from its holy spot, he felt the pain of it being gone from his presence in his chest, a hole ripped out cleanly.
He rubs his chest, but it feels different ever since he touched the stone. He knows that something is off, something the other gods didn't tell him about. He runs his fingers through his hair, glancing back at the stone before walking out.
-
"I told you to stay still." He says as he walks back in.
You finally take in his appearance. He's wearing old clothes, loosely fitting to his form. White shirt and cargo pants, though his shoes are oddly clean. He kicks them to the side, staring at you. His hair is blond, overgrown and covering a bit of his eyes. He walks to you, holding a small, leather bag in his hand. He sits on the floor next to you, digging through his bag. You see him take out small clothes, he sniffs it once before looking down at your leg. He frowns, glancing up at you.
"It was foolish of you to run. You could have hurt yourself more than this," he takes out small tweezers. "Close your eyes if looking at me doing this is uncomfortable."
Before he begins, you move your leg away. He sighs, dropping his arms.
"What's the issue?" He asks, already exasperated. "This will be finished quickly if you cooperate."
"How do I know you're not going to poison me or something? Or is this your evil plot to lure me into your home and keep me as your pet? Huh?"
He stares at you. He pulls your leg close to him, holding it tightly. He blows on your leg softly, and you feel it grow numb at his breath, and you widen your eyes.
Okay, at this point you can only come to one conclusion. This must be some weird dream of yours. Though it is a first, seeing someone like him. You try to calm your heart as he leans forward, slowly picking out small pebbles and other debris. The silence is comforting, but your curiosity is lingering as you look at him. There's something off about him, from his eyes to his calm demeanor to his strange home in the mountains. And there's more to it, but you just can't figure it out. His eyes flick up at yours, emotionless.
"Are you going to stare at me the whole time, or ask your questions?" He asks softly. "I will not tell you my name, and I will not tell you why I have a home in the mountains, or about Yeouiju. But you may ask about other things, and I'll decide if I want to answer."
So the things you want to know, he's not going to say. He digs into your skin as you try pulling away, but his grip is so strong and steady that it doesn't even faze him. His pupils widen as he focuses on cleaning your wound.
"Why don't you have electricity?" You ask softly.
"Why have man-made things when you can live off the Earth? She has given us everything that we need, there is no use for electrical appliances. I have candles, and I have wood. I live near a river. Nothing more is needed." He says simply. "I am going to cleanse your wound, please tell me if the pain is too great."
He slowly dabs the cloth on your skin, watching your face for any signs of discomfort. Not finding any, he turns back to your cut.
"Why did you decide to help me? To bring me to your home?"
He stops cleaning for a moment, and you wonder if you asked too much. He closes his eyes for a moment before speaking.
"The River told me that you were pure, the waters flowing through the mountain whispered to me, and I only listened. There is nothing more to that." He takes out his butterfly stitches, looking at you. "Close your eyes, it will hurt less."
"No, I'm fine—"
"Close your eyes, I don't have time to argue with you about this. Just, close your eyes."
You glare at him but shut your eyes, putting your hand over them. He huffs, then begins to take care of your wound. You could barely feel his touch, the light brushes against your skin still cold. You wonder if it's because he doesn't have heat, but the fireplace should suffice, right? And it's almost the end of Winter; Spring is right around the corner. Wait, why are you worrying about a man who lives in the woods? He's probably been here for years and knows how to live without assistance from you. You aren't his friend; why are you even thinking about it?
Your eyes flick open, moving to the stone necklace resting against his chest. Carved into each stone are symbols you don't quite recognize, a light blue peeking out from the strokes. He grunts, and your eyes move back up to his. He frowns, looking down at your leg.
"You need to rest before leaving; it will be too hard to hike back down the mountains with a wound like this," he stands. "I'll give you some of the stew I made earlier since you didn't finish your lunch." He doesn't ask if you want any, walking back to the kitchen.
He looks back at you sitting next to the fireplace, hand reaching out to feel the waves of heat flowing off of it. Your hair has leaves sticking out of it, some falling to the floor without much notice from you. He leans on the counter, running his fingers through his own.
They will not approve of him having a Human in his home; he knows that. He can only imagine what his brothers might do if they stepped into here, fresh off a trip to see Mother. Eyes moving to the Human in the room, bringing less hospitality with their stares than him. Perhaps San will accept you, but it is a reach. Even though he’s the brother with the most light-hearted mind, he's furious when he needs to be.
He reaches over, taking out a wooden bowl from his cabinet and opening the lid to the stew. Steam moistens his face as he places chunks of meat and potatoes into your bowl. He looks at you again, and this time, you're staring out the window. You rock your not-injured leg, too deep in your thoughts to notice his stare. He places his hand in the water, breathing slowly.
He almost drops the bowl at the sudden onslaught of emotions. He closes his eyes, teeth grinding as his heart swells in his chest, a ringing in his ears and his hand shaking. He's not able to produce sweat, he knows that, but he feels it fall from his cheek. His eyes dilate, looking at you. The word keeps on chanting over and over in his head, and he tries his best to suppress it. Because it cannot be. You are an ordinary Human, it is impossible-
Mate.
"Hey, are you alright?"
You turn to him, and jump. He's trembling; tears falling down his cheeks and sweating more than you've ever seen. You stand, limping slightly.
A small breeze drifts through the window, and he tries to hold his breath. But the creature in him takes control, awakening. The sweet smell of your pheromones brush his nostrils, tickling his nerves. He closes his eyes again, struggling to tell you to stop moving. If the counter wasn't between you and him ...
"Don't move." He says, voice rumbling.
You immediately stop, as his eyes burn into yours. They're completely black as they look at you, the pretty, crystal blue gone. You see as he clenches the counter with his hand, as if he's struggling to keep himself from jumping over it.
Mate. Mate with her, she is yours.
The same words continue in his head over and over, becoming too much to bear.
"Leave, now." He says.
You look outside, the sunset almost turning into the starry night sky. But if you're honest, you'd rather deal with the woods than the strange man in front of you, whose eyes move to every flick of your muscles, neck strained. You grab your bag quickly, limping out the door. Before you leave, you turn back.
"Uh, thanks. For helping me. And I'm sorry I stole your stone."
You shut the door, quickly hobbling across the river, ignoring the loud crashing sounds behind you. You don't know what's up with him, but you don’t want to know. Not really. God, Wooyoung and Yunho would laugh if you told them about this, about meeting a strange guy in the woods and going into his home. Well, scold you first, before bursting into laughter. Telling you that you hit your head a bit too hard on the ground, that you should've gone to the hospital along with Woo. That you have a concussion.
You shake your head at your silly thoughts, your flashlight guiding you back home.
-
You shut the door behind you, taking stuttered breaths. You toss your phone to the side, running your fingers through your hair. Leaves catch onto your nails, and you grunt, tossing them in the small bin next to your door. Whatever the fuck just happened, you wish you can just push it out of your mind, toss it to the side and pretend that today is just another ordinary day.
You throw yourself onto your couch, a nightly routine. A shot of pain goes up your leg, and you hiss, looking back down at it. He bandaged it up pretty well, neatly cleaning off your wound and leaving only the aligned butterfly bandages behind. You run your fingers along the side of it, humming to yourself softly. Was he high? His face was so red, but it just looked like he smelled something terrible.
You reach for your remote, turning on National Geographic. MythBusters is on, talking about the loch ness monster and dragons. You raise your brow, relaxing into the cushions. As he begins his trip to some Forest in China, you hear the familiar beep of your phone. You glance at the caller ID, and see Wooyoung's kissy face. Is he already fine and dandy? You were sure that he caught something with that deep gash. You answer, balancing it between your ear and neck.
"What's up-"
"Where is the stone? y/n, tell me that you don't have the stone anymore," he says through rushed breaths. It sounds like he's run a marathon, gasping through your phone. You lean away slightly.
"Your voice is muffled Woo. Move away from your mic," You complain. "But yes, the stone is back where it's supposed to be. Out of my hands. Deep in the mountains, never to be seen again."
"Thank God. I was researching about it and it talked about it having omnipotence power, and it belong to the ancient dragons-"
You hear a soft knock on your door, and you lean over your couch, looking through the side window next to your door. You see a figure standing there, completely still. Wooyoung continues to yap about the end of the world and something about serpents as you groan, standing and stretching. The banging gets louder, and you sigh.
"What? Who are you?" You yell.
"y/n?" Wooyoung says, "When did you go to the mountains? Did you go alone?"
"Woo, shh. There's someone at the door-"
"Who's at the door, y/n?" You hear the nervousness in his voice. "Fuck, can you just answer me already? I'm about to piss myself."
You walk to the door, but stop, staring at the small window. You can recognize that frame from anywhere. Large body almost blocking the whole window, blue eyes shining through the glass. Your hand shakes, barely listening to Wooyoung's rants into your phone.
"y/n, tell me who the fuck–"
"What did you say, Woo? About the stone and the dragon?" You say softly, your eyes never leaving his.
"Well, it's not a well known story, but sometimes there's a four-toed, Korean dragon that carries a stone called Yeouiju, carried either in its mouth or claws. This is all legend, but it says that whoever is worthy of it and carries the stone, will have the blessing of the gods. Something about the abilities of omnipotence and creation at will. Almost like a wish fulfilling stone, y/n. And it also mentions something about if dragons lose their hold of the stone and is found in the hands of another, they are destined."
"Destined?" You say breathlessly. The door begins to shake, a smile slowly forming on the man's face. You hear a small mhm from Wooyoung as he continues.
"Yup. Whoever is able to hold the stone, is destined to be with one another. Like mates, I guess."
The door begins to rattle after Wooyoung finishes. You take a step back from the door, eyes wide.
"I don't know what that stone that you found was and I know you don't believe in things like this, so please just drop the skepticism for a bit and listen to me. Don't go back for that stone, y/n. It's better to just pretend that it doesn't exist, and live your life without it. I'd rather you not go up the mountains either."
The door groans under his weight, small cracks slowly forming. You move into your kitchen, looking at your phone.
"Wooyoung," You say softly.
"Yes, what's up?" You don't respond after a moment, and he begins to panic. "y/n? You never told me who's at your door? What's wrong?"
"Do you really believe in this whole dragon thing? Because if you do, I'm ninety-fucking-percent sure he's right outside my door," You say. Wooyoung doesn't say anything for a moment, before a chuckle erupts through the phone.
"Don't shit me right now, y/n. Wait..." he trails off, before speaking again. "What happened when you dropped off the stone? y/n, this isn't funny, I'm being serious."
The banging gets louder. You wince each time, putting your phone on speaker, your hands shaking too much to hold it.
"I met a guy in the woods, Woo. His house was weird, he didn't have electricity and his eyes looked like some type of lizard's... And I ran back home, Woo. He told me to leave, and I did. But right now, the man I found in the woods is outside the front door, and he wants to come in."
You hear crashing through the line, and things thrown all over the place.
"y/n, do not open that fucking door. y/n, go hide somewhere, in your room or something–"
"Why won't you let me in?"
His voice echoes in your home, and your eyes flick back to the door, seeing him staring right at you, even through the tempered glass.
Nothing will happen, don’t you want to see me? I won’t hurt you. Just listen to me, okay? Open the door, and everything will be fine.
The cracks in the wood grow, and you feel your heart beating in your ear. The dark wood is slowly coming apart, and Wooyoung is too far to come and save you. You're on your own.
"I'm on my way, y/n, please go hide somewhere, don't open that door! I'm not going to hang up the phone, okay? I'll be on the line with you," he says, and you hear him zipping up his coat. It takes him over an hour to get there every time, and even with him speeding he could only knock off about twenty minutes. And that's if he doesn't run into city traffic.
Your phone beeps, blinking and showing you your low battery.
1%.
Who are you talking to? Is that your mate?
His voice drips with jealousy, and you're sure if you stay on the line any longer–
"Woo, I'll have to hang up now, but I'll make sure to call you back, alright? My phone is running out of charge." You say, hearing the curses fall from his lips.
"Don't you hang up on me!"
You click the end call button, keep your eye on the door as you plug it into your charger in your kitchen. The thumping slows down a bit, and you hear a soft knock on the wood.
I'm sorry for making you walk down the mountain alone, but I was with you the whole time. I didn't let you out of my sight.
That was the feeling that itched your skin, making you turn back every couple of seconds. He was protecting you– no. No, he was chasingyou.
Why don't you let me in, y/n? I want to check up on you, make sure everything is okay.
You shake your head, though you're not sure if he could see that gesture. You're too scared to speak to him, to say a word that'll show your weakness. Show how desperately your body wanted you to fling that door open. You don't know what's gotten into you, but the pull, the urge to see him is slowly overcoming your rational thoughts.
Are you feeling okay, y/n?
You love the way your name rolls off his tongue, familiar and yet, not. He slowly pushes his body against the door, waiting for you to say something to him.
I know you want to speak to me, please. Just say something so that I know you're okay.
You wrap your fingers around the edge of the counter, keeping your eyes to the floor.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," You whisper. You're not sure if he hears you, until a low moan falls from his lips, his jiggling of the door handle increasing by the second.
You sound like you need my help. I can hear it in your voice, you need me, don't you? You feel that, you feel that feeling rolling over you? I can smell you from here, y/n. I know you want me. I know you want me to make love to you, don't you?
You fall into your stool, wrapping your arms around your body, legs tight together.
Want me to fill you up with my cum, have you shaking with how good I pump into you? Biting into your neck, sucking marks into your skin. I bet you'll like that, right?
You try to control your breaths, but a low moan falls from your lips, and you hear him fall to the ground. The TV is too low to hide the sound of him unzipping his pants. Too low to cover his loud moans as he rubs himself just outside your door. You can only imagine the sweat dripping down his forehead, head thrown back and eyes tight as he fucks himself into his hand.
Fuck, I'm here, y/n. Just open those legs for me, hm? Don't you want me to smell you? To suck your clit, to make you cum? Just open them. Do it for me, now.
His voice turns aggressive at the end, and you don't move. You know what will happen if you do. And you're not sure if you'd want to stop yourself from throwing that door open, taking him without a second thought.
You're mine, you know that right? Since you grabbed my stone, we're destined for one another. No mortal will make you feel like I do. I can hear you panting, you know. I can see you, sitting there. Struggling to listen to me, trying your best to keep yourself in that chair.
I know you're thinking about me fucking you. Opening the door and shoving you against the wall, shoving my cock into you without a second thought.
He stops moving for a second, standing up. He begins hitting the door, the brute force breaking off one of the hinges. You need to hide now. You look from the floor to the glass, and between the foggy texture, you see something peeking through. Are those… wings?
His eyes meet yours, and his name rumbles in your mind. It isn't from his mouth, you just feel it being given to you.
Yeosang.
You get up from your chair, not thinking about the repercussions of your actions. Not thinking about how he can smell you. He grunts loudly, slamming himself against the door harder. You run into your bedroom on the opposite side of the house.
Your eyes move all over, before they rest on your closet. It's such a typical place to hide, but you have no other choice. Then your eyes move to your bathroom, but you shake your head. No, that'll be the first place he'll check. You quietly open your closed door, shutting it behind you with a slight click.
You hear your door being kicked in, and you flinch, cursing at yourself for not checking your phone charge before running in here. You hear his soft footsteps as he walks around your home, your breaths hushed.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says softly, voice echoing throughout the empty hallways.
You say nothing, not daring to even move an inch. The door squeaks open, and you press your hands over your mouth, eyes watering. Your hands shake as you hear his slow breaths. You know he doesn’t want to hurt you, deep down you know that. But the fear of the unknown, the fear that he’s actually here to damn you for taking his Yeouiju, makes you think otherwise.
“Why didn’t you open the door?” He asks, stopping in front of the closet. His finger scratches the wood, and you hold in your sobs. “Aren’t we meant to be together?”
The door flings open, and you scream, covering your face. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to steal the stone, please!”
Hands pull you up, and you yell, trying your best to fight against him.
“y/n! Y/n! Hey, listen to me! I’m not him, I’m Woo! Hey, hey,” He says, and you open your eyes, looking at the soft brown eyes of your best friend. “Hey, calm down. Just breathe, alright? I’m here, no one’s going to hurt you.”
He pulls you into his arms, trying his best to calm down the shakes that just won’t stop vibrating through your body. You cry against his shoulder, clutching so hard against him you’re sure you’ll leave bruises.
“Don’t you ever fucking hang up on me, alright? Don’t you ever do that to me again.” He says sternly, and you feel his tears drip onto your neck. “Fuck, you scared the shit out of me, I thought… I thought-”
He doesn’t say it, but you know. A small knock makes you jump, and Wooyoung holds you tight, standing in front of you and turning to the door. Yunho stands there sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.
“I know you said to stay in the car, but it’s so dark out there and the loud music could do only so much, ya know?” He glances behind Wooyoung, meeting your eyes.
“So I heard you caught the eye of a dragon?”
-
Wooyoung stands in the kitchen, flipping an omelet. His eyes stare at you through the window, watching you swing yourself softly on the swing. Yunho stands next to him, balancing on one leg. His eyes follow his gaze, and he sighs.
“You haven’t taken your eyes off of her for days, Woo. She’s fine.”
Wooyoung looks down at the pan, shaking his head. “She says she’s fine, but I know she’s not, hyung. She pretends, you know that. She always says that she’s okay, but then I hear her crying in her room, telling us that it’s just an emotional movie. Every time she goes into the bathroom alone, she locks the door and takes less than two minutes in and out. She’s anxious; and she’s trying to hide it from us.”
Yunho nods slowly. “So, this dragon thing, it’s real?”
Wooyoung knows he doesn’t want to believe it. Believe that just up those mountains, a creature lays in wait, waiting for Yunho and him to leave so he can see y/n again.
“It’s as real as sliced bread,” Wooyoung murmurs. “I can’t believe it myself; but what else do you think broke in the door like that? And it was from the outside. No human or animals around here could do that much damage. And I’m sure that an elephant didn’t travel over here to knock down her door.”
“So, what do we do?” Yunho replies. “Do we bring her back to our apartment?”
Wooyoung elbows him, ignoring the smirk on his face. “I haven’t told her about that yet, idiot.”
“Better now than never,” Yunho shrugs. “But I’m being serious. We know she hates the city, but if she’s too afraid to stay alone, well, if we’re too afraid to let her, then we should bring it up.”
Wooyoung grumbles. You already have so much on your plate; dealing with the head editor at your job, this dragon nonsense. Bringing up his new relationship with your childhood friend would probably bring more stress to your life. Wooyoung frowns as he stares at his egg, taking a small bite.
“Fine, we’ll bring it up. But let me tell her first, okay? I think it’s better for her to hear it from me.”
Yunho shrugs. “Doesn’t matter to me. I think she’ll be happy you finally have some dick in your life.” Yunho narrowly misses Wooyoung’s spatula, laughing as he chases him around the house, the stove of course, safely turned off.
-
“This is not possible. A wise one never mates with a mortal, a Human of all the possibilities,” Seonghwa says through clenched teeth, staring in disgust at his younger brother. “What have you done?”
“Do not scold him so much, Seonghwa. He must have made some sort of mistake, I cannot see Yeosang’s mate being a Human. It is impossible.” Jongho says, defending his brother. “He is the wisest of us all, don’t be so harsh.”
“Or perhaps he would like for this to happen,” San says, eyes on his brother. Yeosang says nothing, listening to their complaints. “He has always followed what Mother says, but at some point, we all rebel. This may be his time.”
“You all are being harsh,'' Mingi mumbles, staring at the blood on the couch. It smells like Human, the stench not too bad on his nostrils, since he has been infatuated with one before. He looks at Yeosang’s tired eyes. “I trust Yeosang with my whole life. Let him explain himself first, please.”
“Fine,” Seonghwa murmurs. He glares at Yeosang. “Explain, now.”
Yeosang keeps his eyes on the floor, exhaustion not the only thing taking a toll on his body. He hears his inner dragon desperately wanting to leave his home, and run to yours, completing the mating ritual. A chain attached to his legs, made with the toughest metals that Earth can provide. It wraps around his kitchen counter; keeping him in his place.
He stares at the chain for a moment, before sighing, pushing his long locks away from his face.
"The dragon told me, this was not my choice and never will be. I just helped her in the forest, tended to her wound. And then when I was about to feed her, I felt the pain in his chest. The overwhelming feeling of the beast trying to claw himself out and mate with her. My dragon is never wrong, even in this Human form. This is why I have myself chained up. Even now, it wants to shred the four of you apart to get to her. And your insults are only fueling the anger in my chest."
He looks at them, and Mingi tries his best to hold in his shock. Scratches cover his face from his claws, slowly healing. Dried blood stains his cheeks but he couldn't even begin to notice. He sees the tightness in his brother's jeans, the reigned in anger that keeps him from leaping at the rest.
Because he has felt this way before.
"Hyung," Mingi mumbles softly. "We all know what happened when my lover was a Human. I am afraid. Afraid that the same would happen to you and y/n. I don't think... I don't believe we should allow you to see her again, or vice versa. It is for the best."
A low growl rumbles in his chest, and the others stare at him, ready for an attack at any given moment. But Yeosang closes his eyes, calming himself.
"We are ancient ones; there is no reason we should even be able to have mates," San mumbles, rubbing his forehead. His red hair is striking compared to the rest of them; but he is a fire dragon. It is expected for him to look this way. "Why did Mother insist?"
"She wanted us to have a chance at a normal Human experience. Ever since she gave us this," Seonghwa gestures to his body in disgust, "Human form, she has wanted us to assimilate into everyday society. But Yeosang has kept to himself, as well as the rest of us." Seonghwa looks to Yeosang, white hair covering his light pupils, almost translucent. He wears his brown human contacts when necessary; but he prefers to let his eyes breathe.
"You should have left that Human to die. It is the natural order. I know that you are... slightly leaning to caring for them, but they are not like us. And you seemed to have forgotten that.
"I couldn't leave," Yeosang explains. "She had Yeouiju. I couldn't leave without retrieving it. Without it, our rivers will dry. Even if I am in control of the rain and river, that doesn't mean that I can stop it from drying out. Finding out I'm to mate with y/n, that was just a mistake."
Mingi shakes his head, brown hair and eyes more normal than the rest of them. Besides the reptile slits as pupils, nothing else was out of the ordinary. At least, from what the normal Human could see.
"I don't approve, Yeosang."
"I heard you the first time," he grumbles. "But this is not our only issue."
Seonghwa tenses up, and San speaks. "What is it now?"
"I am not the only one that has a Human mate."
They all exchange looks, knowing exactly who he speaks of.
"What will we do about that? He hasn't been careful, but mother will approve. She will stop us if we ever interfere. She would scowl us."
"Make sure that he does no harm to the Human. Even though most of you despise the creatures, they are Mother's creations. Seeing them harmed only disturbs her rest. And we are the guardians. Yunho will stay in line." Yeosang is confident in his resolve. Yunho is the one that has spent the most time with the lesser beings. He knows how to be like a Human.
-
Yunho pouts as he stands at the door, Wooyoung next to him. You lean against the wall, rolling your eyes at the behavior. You're fine, and they continue to insist that you go with them. But from the lingering gazes Yunho gives his ass and the smirks Wooyoung sends his way, you've had enough. And you love them, you do. But the constant laughing at higher volumes than necessary and the toilet seat being up, you've had it. The only reason why you haven't kicked them out earlier is because they were worried out of their minds. But you're okay now.
For now.
"y/n, please eat more. You're stuck in that room all day and never come out. I'm serious," He adds, seeing the look on your face. "I bought vitamins and left them in your room. And if you need more—"
"Ah, Woo! She'll be fine, she is an adult not a child," Yunho complains. "And I've been standing here for ten minutes as you showed her around her own house and told her where her own things are. The new idol show is going to start soon, let's just go." Yunho pulls at Wooyoung, kicking him outside. He gives you an apologetic look.
"Call us if you need us. We're here for you, you know that, right?" He says softly. "I don't want you to be hurt, especially by this strange man. Call me if he appears. Do not hesitate, y/n."
You see the plea in his eyes, desperate for you to listen to his words. You nod, and he pulls you into a quick hug, squeezing you tightly before kissing your forehead and stumbling after Wooyoung. You wave to them as they go, your heart clenching. You know that you should have gone with them. If he wanted you this bad, he knows. He'll be waiting for you to be alone, and you're not sure if the feeling in your chest is anxiety or excitement.
-
You frown as you submit your edit of the chapter, shutting off your computer. You let out a long, breathy sigh, throwing yourself back in your chair. The wheels give it’s last sad effort and you yelp, falling back to the floor. The drop echoes around the house as you groan, small whimpers falling from your lips. You hear a loud bang, and you barely glance up, Wooyoung’s probably forgotten his underwear that he still didn’t take back. Hands reach and lift you from the floor with ease, and you laugh slowly.
“Don’t make fun of me I know I’m an idiot, Woo,” You say, reaching down to pick up your fallen chair.
Hands reach for it instead, and a cold shiver rolls up your spine. His hands are too big to be your best friends’. Your eyes follow his arms, meeting the light blue that you’ve tried to erase from your head. His hair is pulled back from his face, resting in a low bun. He looks at your shocked expression, and slides your chair under your desk. You take a step back once he moves forward, and he stops.
“I-”
“Why are you in my house? How did you get into my house? Why are you in my room? Get out!” You yell, eyes flicking to the phone text to your computer. He follows your gaze, shaking his head.
“Calling more Humans to assist you won’t make me go away. And I heard the sound, and I came as quickly as I could. Are you alright? You hit the floor pretty hard.”
As quick as he could? Was he waiting outside your door? You know that the hike from his home to yours is at least an hour, and that’s if you don’t stop to take a break. He takes in your confused expression, waiting for you to object, for you to scream and run away from him. You wear your thoughts on your face, your eyebrows furrowed and your bottom lip between your teeth. Your hair looks like you’ve ran your fingers through it over and over, and you’re wearing your sleepwear, loose on your frame.
His dragon rumbles inside of him, and he closes his eyes for a moment, too quick for you to think it’s more than just a blink. He opens them again, keeping his gaze with yours.
“Are you stalking me?” You ask, “Are you waiting outside my hours, waiting for the opportunity to pounce on me?” You know you sound crazy, but he’s crazy! He’s the one that broke your door, which led to Yunho standing there in confusion as he tried to fix it.
“No, I told you that I came-”
“Yea, you came when you heard the sound. But you had to be close, it’s not possible.”
“Are you sure it’s not possible? You know that I am not a Human,” he says simply. “Just accept it, and then you’ll understand that I can find you anywhere and be there within moments.”
He sits on the bed, and you hear something drag. You glance down, seeing chains wrapped around his ankles. He doesn’t explain why he has them, just stares at you.
“Please leave my house.” You say softly. “I don’t want you here, Yeosang.”
That shatters the expressionless look on his face. His mouth forms a small o, eyebrows tight in concentration. “You know my name. I haven’t told you my name, but you know. How do you know?” He stands this time, eyes flicking between yours. The pupils narrow into slits, blue darkening.
“I heard it. When you were outside my door, I heard your name whispered into my ear.”
He nods slowly. “So this is not a lie. It’s true, you are my mate, y/n.” He takes your figure in. “I cannot believe you’re my mate, a Human.” He says that last word with a bit of revulsion in his speech, almost hissing as it comes out. “I couldn’t … I didn’t think it was possible to mate with a Human. I didn’t think that Mingi was telling the truth, but you are here.” He reaches out, but moves his hand back quickly when you flinch. “I will not hurt you. You know that.”
“I don’t know that, Yeosang! I don’t know you, I have no clue who the fuck you are, and you continue to just barge into my home, thinking it’s yours. Saying that I’m your mate, but I’m not. I don’t even know your last name, I don’t know anything but the fact that you live in a small house in the middle of the forest and you’re horny as Hell!”
He snorts at that. “I’m not sexually aroused all the time. It’s just when I’m in the presence of my mate. My dragon inside of me wants to have children, that’s its goal. But when I’m alone, I’m fine. I don’t have the desire.” He looks at you, “I didn’t want this either. To be your mate. That’s why I live in the forest alone, away from Humans. I would rather be away from all of you, isolated and live on my own. But unfortunately, you decided to come into my forest and take Yeouiju. If you just left it alone, none of this would have happened.”
You stay silent at that. He sighs, tugging at a small hair that fell out of his bun. You notice that his fingers are lined with silver rings, each one has a strange symbol. Just like the necklace that rests on his neck. You look away, trying your best to comprehend whatever the Hell is going on right now.
He’s right; you’re not scared of him. Your chest leaped when he appeared, but a wave of calm fell over you once you realized it was him. Despite everything, you feel safe. With a man who claims he’s a big, bad dragon that lives in the woods. With a man who claims that he’s your mate. With a man that almost made you drop to your knees just a week or so ago because he told you to. You consider yourself an independent woman. Not listening to the begging of some man to shove his dick in you. And yet, you’ve been drooling over that night, wonder what would’ve happened if you opened the door…
“Stop.” He says, clenching his jaw.
“What? I didn’t even say anything!” You say, your face warming by the second. Oh God, you’re making a face, aren’t you? The fuck me face? How more embarrassing can this get?
“You didn’t need to, I can smell you. If you continue I won’t be able to stop myself.” He says simply. Your body shivers, and he growls.
“I said stop.”
“I am! I am, can you just go?” You open the door, gesturing out. “And never come back?”
He looks out into the hallway, closing his eyes for a moment. He opens them again, a tired look in his face. “If I leave, I will be back unfortunately. Even now, my dragon wants me to stay. To set up my nest here because your home is filled with the scent of you, and those other men,” He wrinkles his nose. “I thought that I could speak to you, about more than just mates. About why I am like this, and about my dragon that I mentioned and you don’t seem that fazed that I keep on saying it.”
Wooyoung. Jung Wooyoung, this guy was right! Your nerdy best friend is right! You look at Yeosang, frowning. He doesn’t even look like a dragon, did he adapt as the years passed? Changing his form to walk among you humans easily?
"My friend, he's really into this stuff. He researches old objects and keeps many. A kind of Indiana Jones if you really think about it.”
Yeosang stares at you blankly and you can only sigh, your reference meaningless to his ears.
You rub your face, turning around and walking into the kitchen. He follows behind, a bit slow on his part. You start the coffee maker, before turning back to him. His eyes are empty, not even a peek into what he’s thinking. But you notice how they flick all over your kitchen, taking in the environment with caution.
"What are dragons?" You ask, staying a bit away from him. The counter is the only thing separating you, but he doesn't make any motions to get closer to you, and you're glad. "Are they giant lizards?"
Yeosang scoffs at that. "We are not giant lizards. We are..." He trails off. "The best description would be a mix between a lizard and a serpent. We are cold-blooded, and we mate for offspring in the early Spring."
You tense up at that, knowing that Spring just began.
"Is that why you picked me as your mate? Because it's early Spring?"
He shakes his head slowly. "No. Mother, when she created us we were supposed to guard our realms. Make sure the balance of the Earth always stays the same. But she noticed how lonely we were. You see, I don't often see my brothers. Since I am in charge of Earth's water, I have stayed alone on that mountain for millennia. No human has ever had the ability to see me or my cottage, because it is hidden from their eyes. But you," He looks at you. "You have changed everything. And a part of me is afraid of this. I've never wanted a mate, because..."
He looks down at his hands. "I have seen my brother care for a Human. And watch him die in his arms, unable to do anything. He wasn't his mate, but he cared for him like so. Mingi didn't deserve to get his heart broken like that, so I swore that I would never do the same. I would never interact with a Human, I will stay away."
"But your eyes met mine from across the river. At that moment, I knew that you were different. And you happened to be the one mother chose for me. A Human who would die in a few decades, only a few hours for a creature like me."
He told you the harsh truth. He doesn't want you, and it's not like you want him. You barely know him. But the feeling of rejection swirls in your chest, the burning sensation of knowing that you're unwanted making you want to vomit.
"Then why are you here? Is this supposed to make me feel better? Make me want to throw myself into your arms and thank your Mother that she made us mates? I don't know you, Yeosang. And I don't think I want to. Not after you basically called me a waste of time."
He winces at that. "I didn't mean to–"
His eyes turn to the open doorway, narrowing. He moves in front of you, blocking your view. You try to push him out of the way, but he glances back, glaring at you. You stay silent then, hiding behind his wide stature.
"What are you doing here?" He asks, emotion lost in his voice.
The new person laughs, and it's like magic to your ears. Not as pleasant and mouth watering as Yeosang, but pretty damn close.
"Ah, do you want to hide her from us now? We just wanted to take a peek at your mate."
"Leave." He says simply. "I told you to not involve yourselves in this, it'll only overwhelm her–"
"Overwhelm me? Why do you keep on treating me like a fucking kid?" You peek your head out from around him, and he sighs, letting you stand in front of him without much protest.
A man stands there, arms crossed as he tilts his head and takes in your figure. His eyes roam over your body, teeth biting his lower lip. His eyes rest of yours, filled with something you can't figure out. You wouldn't have noticed anything strange about him, but his eyes are a lighter brown.
"Yeosang didn't say you were a beautiful Human," his voice is smooth, slithering into your ear as he speaks. He takes a step forward, "Perhaps you'd want me instead?"
"Cut it out," The man standing behind him mumbles. His hair is a dark red, eyes matching the same. His eyes flick over you quickly, frowning. "She knows how easily you fell in love with a Human, and yet, she continues to do this to us." He tsks, looking away. "How despicable."
"San, Mother makes decisions for a reason. We must be grateful, she is the one who made us into who we are," The slick talker rebuttals. He looks back at you, nodding his head once. "Nice to meet you, I'm Mingi. The one with the bad temper is San. Seonghwa isn't here, he decided to go back to his Home."
Mingi looks at Yeosang, a small pout on his lips. "Don't hide your playthings from us anymore—"
A low rumble echoes around the room, stomping Mingi in his speech. You feel Yeosang move closer to you, almost inches away from pressing his back against yours.
"Watch what you say," he says.
San sighs. "He's already bonded, there's no use. If we remove her, it will only tear him apart."
Remove? Remove? Were they going to—
Yeosang feels your heartbeat race and he stands in front of you, wrapping an arm around you protectively. His skin is cold but it's comforting, his grip strong as he holds you to his side.
"I won't repeat myself, San. Remember your place. Both of you leave her home, now."
Mingi's face drops. "I'm sorry," he tilted his head to you. "To both of you. Please be well."
San sniffs, eyebrows furrowed. "Doesn't it smell like–" Mingi slaps his hand against San's lips, a nervous laughter erupting from him.
"Haha! Time to go, San. I'll see you back home, Yeosang. And it was nice meeting you, y/n. I hope to see you again soon."
Mingi pushes a resistant San out of your home, shutting the door loudly behind them as they leave. Your hand brushes lightly against Yeosang's arm, and he slowly lowers his chest, heart beat steadying to a normal pace.
"I'm sorry about that. I didn't expect them to show up here so quickly." He confesses, turning back to look at you. "And I understand if you don't want to be my mate. I'll just stay away."
You feel your body reject the idea. Tears spring to your eyes, your hands begin to shake, and your breaths kick up in speed. You shake your head, not wanting to meet his eyes."No. No, I mean... We can be friends, Yeosang. I don't want you to disappear. Not until I've given you a chance."
His somber expression fades as he takes in your words. "You don't have to do that to make me feel content. I'm okay with being away."
"Are you? Are you okay with not seeing me?"
His eyes move to the floor at that. He doesn't say anything, but as the old saying goes, actions speak louder than words. You nod slowly.
"Okay, then we can be friends. Just... when you come to my house, maybe knock before barging in? And don't break my door anymore please, it took Yunho way too long to fix it."
You see the disgusted look on his face, but before you can question it it fades away. He moves his head in agreement, slightly tilting it to you.
"I'm fine with that. When you are inviting people into your home, do you trust them? There are many who say they are something when they are not. You should be wary of that."
"No one that's come into this house is someone that I don't trust. At least, not until today."
"Are you sure?"
"Don't you trust my judgment?" You ask through clenched teeth. If he's referring to you not letting your best friends into your home, you'd shut it down immediately. They're the only people that you love and trust in this world. Not even him, your destined mate, can get in between that.
He sighs, mumbling words in a language you don't understand. He takes off his necklace, rolling the stones between his fingers for a moment. "You've kept your eyes on this for a while, so before I go I should tell you what this is. "When we were first created, all of us were given a token of Mother's love and protection. She gave me this necklace and the silver on my fingers. The symbols are something that your Human mind won't quite comprehend. But essentially, it protects you from danger and deep woes. Since... Since I worry for you, I would like it if you kept this with you."
You stare at it in his hands, his fingers brushing lightly over the stones.
"I can't take that—"
"I am a dragon, y/n. I do not need protection like this. And I have my rings, if you are worried about that. Please, this will make me feel better about leaving you alone without my protection."
Before he was complaining about having to be your mate, but now he's basically confessing his love for you. You nod, barely, and he takes a step forward, slowly dropping it on your neck. You think that some feeling will go over you, but there's nothing but the smell of him that surrounds you. He stares at the necklace on your neck, letting out a breath of relief.
"Please don't take it off unless I'm with you. Now that you're my mate, it makes you a target for beings that are too terrifying to name. Beings that lurk in the forest."
He hears your heartbeat pick up at that, and curses himself for scaring you.
"They won't come to you, I've already placed protection around your home. Nothing within a twenty mile radius will come to you unless I perish. And I am older than the stars."
You laugh, and his chest whines at the sound. He closes his eyes, trying his best to remember the beautiful symphony. His eyes move to how yours crinkle at the corners, how your nose scrunches up and your cheeks lift.
"I cannot believe the universe decided to make my mate a dragon that constantly reminds me that he's older than dirt. And people said Twilight was bad."
He listens to you mumble on and on about how unfair the world is and something about sliced bread. You look at him, and your eyes still. A small smile graces his lips, and it's one of the most ethereal things you've ever seen. You feel your cheeks warm at your thoughts. Watching him stand there, your doubts go away for just a moment.
"I'll see you soon, right?" He asks.
"Yes. Yes you will, Yeosang."
-
Wooyoung walks around your home, eyes flicking over everything. You watch him with mild curiosity, waiting for him to complain about the dishes not being done or something so minuscule that not even your dragon— Yeosang, would be able to notice.
"Are you sure you're okay?" He questions, worried. That's why you love him. Despite his annoying habits and a bit of overbearing behavior, he cares about you. He cares about you so much, and thinking about it almost makes you cry.
"I'm okay, Woo."
He takes a step closer, doubt in his eyes. "Are you sure? You don't need anything?"
"No, I'm fine Woo. All I need is you and Yunho, and I'm good. Answer my calls and whine for all I care, but I'm good. No more walking around here like a zombie, no more jumping at the slightest sounds. I'm good."
He runs his fingers through his hair.
"Fine, but stay away from that forest. I'll buy you one of those treadmills that makes you think you're walking in nature."
You chuckle, and he grins at how he finally got you to laugh. Your eyes move over to Yunho, your smile slipping slightly.
Ever since they've arrived, he's been off. He was all smiles until his eyes flicked over your figure, moving from your necklace to your home. He wrinkled his nose in disgust and sat on the couch, saying nothing else. Wooyoung didn't notice the change in his attitude, too worried about you. But whatever upset him, you just hoped it wasn't you. He didn't even laugh at any of your cheesy jokes or crack one of his own. Does he think that you're lying about how okay you are? Does he know that you're hiding something without saying it?
You've been on edge the whole time because of him, waiting for him to finally snap and say what he has to say. But he's kept his lips shut, staring ominously into the muted TV.
"Alright well Yun and I have a date later, but just text us if you need anything, alright? We're just a phone call away!" He hugs you quickly before pulling on Yun's shoulder. He stands, and you almost scream as his eyes meet yours.
They're completely black, filled with nothing. But he blinks and it's gone, as if you just imagined it. Yunho breaks out into a smile, different from his quiet behavior only moments ago.
"Take care of yourself, alright? Don't get into any trouble." He says the last word with a bit of anger, and you nod, letting the both of them walk out. As they shut the door behind them, you lean on the counter, eyes unfocused.
No. It was just a trick of the eye. It's not possible for him to have black pupils. You push away your silly thoughts, trying to think coherently. He's been your best friend ever since you were a child. Whatever you think you saw, it isn't true. You keep on telling yourself this, scrubbing the plates with much more vigor.
-
"Tell me more about Humans. Do you have lifelong mates, are there people you are destined for?" Yeosang asks as he watches you type on the computer.
You sigh, "No. Well, it's not like our bond. People sometimes choose someone to spend the rest of their lives with, and it's not fate or destiny. They go through problems, some may have multiple people they love. It just depends on how their life goes, ya know?"
You don't hear anything from him, and you continue to concentrate on the words in front of you. He seems to get the picture, moving away from you and walking around your room. You don't see him stop on your drawer, don't hear him opening the top one because of your immense concentration on your work.
Yeosang brushes his fingers on the fabrics, obviously your undergarments. His hands reach deeper, something solid touching the tips of his fingers. He pulls it out slowly, a large pink cock standing in front of him. He feels his face flush as he stares at it. Do Humans... pleasure themselves this way? He pokes it, a faint smell of your pheromones coating the outside. He quickly drops it into your drawer, slamming it with such might that you jump in your seat, turning around to look at him.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Pink cheeks and red ears greet you back, and your eyes move to the drawers behind him. You think about what you have in there, panic immediately reaching your eyes.
"Just... Don't look at people's stuff, alright? And haven't you lived for several millenniums? The first thing that you should've learned was privacy!" You hiss, and he nods, bowing quickly.
"I'm sorry, I didn't realize that you pleasure yourselves—"
"Stop! Stop, please don't make this more embarrassing than it already is."
He nods, and you turn back to your desk. Your eyes can't seem to concentrate on the task, and you throw your head to the desk in frustration. Yeosang moves back over to you, concern about his features.
"Why do you do things that upset you?" He asks softly. "Isn't it better to do more calming activities? I have seen you stressed since I've arrived, and that will only decrease your lifespan."
You can't help but pout, "I love my job. I just hate when I can't figure out how to edit something with better words. And I need money, Yeosang. Nothing comes easily in life."
He shrugs at that. "I live in the mountains with what nature provides. The only use of money to me is a way to start my fire. But I do see how focused Humans are on it. It's a major reason why you all suffer so greatly. You should look back to your ancestors and see that the simple life is best. But barely any of you know how to start a simple fire without the use of your tools."
He glances at your computer, hands crossed against his chest. "You stared at that for so long, you don't even realize that three hours have gone by." He glances at the time on your clock. "Would you like me to make something for you?"
You frown. "You don't even know how to work the oven, why would I let you near my kitchen?"
His lips lift up into a smirk, showing the ever elusive dimples in his cheeks. "I'll bring you to my home. Something is already cooking."
You think about the last time you were there, his eyes locked on yours as he struggled to hold himself together. Hands digging into his kitchen counter as you basically ran out, your leg straining in pain as you made your way down the mountain. You were terrified at the time; a bit of you still is, even if he's your mate.
"I won't hurt you," he says softly. "I can feel the change in your temperature, and hear the way your heart beat changes. I can't read your thoughts, but from this I know enough. I won't hurt you," he repeats. "That was my dragon out of control. It's never experienced a scent like yours before, but I've controlled it. And it won't dare to hurt you, it wants to only protect."
He rubs his forehead. "This... All of this is complicated. There's so much to explain to you, but I'm not sure if you'd like to hear it." His words are coming out in soft whispers, unexpected from such a vocal being like him. But he's nervous, hands shaking slightly as he pulls on his hair. You've grown to notice that it's a nervous habit of his.
"Let's go to your home," you say, and he visibly brightens up at your words. "And I don't think you'll do anything to hurt me. I trust you."
You trust him. His lips twitch, wanting to curve into a smile. But he's so scared of frightening you away that he only nods, not noticing your shoulders drop a bit at his dry reaction.
"We should leave soon, then. Before it gets dark out."
-
You still make him nervous when you're with him. The smell of you stuck in the air, whiffing around his small home. He keeps quiet though, checking and tasting his soup frequently. He's not sure what you like; salty or sweet, spicy or mild. It makes him panic a little, hoping that he satisfies you.
You sit in the living area, eyes on the fireplace flickering. His eyes trail along your exposed skin, landing on the junction between your neck and shoulders. He's been wanting to mark you as his since he's found out, but easing you into this is what's best. You don't know anything about him, and tying you to him that way will only break you two apart. Resulting in him being more broken than he already is.
It's hard, he wants to tell you everything, from his birth to now. Everything that he knows about dragons, wanting to see your eyes shine with curiosity at his words. But he holds himself in, not wanting to overstep. You're loud and blunt, you'll tell him when he's doing something wrong. He tastes the stew once more, nodding in satisfaction.
"You know," he looks at you, and you're turned back, smiling at him. "You don't have to make the stew perfect. As long as it's edible, I couldn't care less about the flavor."
"I just finished." He grabs a wooden bowl, thinking back to how only a couple of weeks ago, you were with him. Same scenario, but this time your leg is fine. The healing water, or cleaning liquid, that he poured over it, helped. He still hasn't told you about the small trick that he did, but that's for another time.
He takes two bowls and spoons, and walks over to you, trying his best to not trip. He's clumsy, he knows that. He passes the bowl to you and you thank him. He sits across from you, watching as you take the first bite into his mouth. You say nothing for a moment, face and body motionless.
"Is it too salty? I can add more water—"
"Yeosang, if you told me you were such a good cook I'd ask you to cook for me all the time!" You say, your face bright. "What the fuck! This is some Gordon Ramsay, some Bobby Flay type shit! It's amazing!"
He sighs in relief, sipping his slowly. "I'm glad you like it, y/n."
Your smile twitches. Your name falls off his lips easily, making your whole body shiver.
"You never said my name." You say softly. "To be honest, I thought you didn't know it. But you finally said it, so we're getting somewhere, right?" You say, and he nods.
"Yes."
You hold the hot chocolate in your hand, sitting closer to the fire. It has to be past midnight, your soft whispers echoing around the room. You two have talked about everything; from your rocky relationship with your family to your friends. He talked about his family life as well, and how much he loves the forest.
"What kind of dragon are you?"
"I control agriculture and water. That's why I keep my home so close to it, I can feel everything. I could even feel when you and your friend fell in. The water is connected to me in such a way that if I concentrate on it, I can feel the sea life that lives in its depths. And when the forest breathes, I do. Everything is connected," he puts his hand on the ground, closing his eyes.
"Can't you feel it?"
His smile grows on his face, and you stare in awe. He's showing you his true self; the sharpness of his canines and the beautiful lift of his cheeks. Eyes closed into small crescents and skin glowing with the flickering of the fire. You've never seen him so relaxed, free of woes and anxiety. It's a beautiful sight.
"Do you feel it, y/n?" This time his eyes are open, resting on yours. It's not a lust filled gaze, not emotionless. It's filled with... something you didn't expect to see.
Care.
"Yes, I can." You say, the double meaning behind your words apparent. He smiles softly, looking to the floor.
"It's not proper for you to stay at a dragon's home, but I cannot let you go back down the mountain at this time of night. Not that you won't be with me, which you will, but there's too much danger when it's the night. I would prefer it if you stayed here." He scratches the back of his head. "Ah, but I only have one bed. I can sleep on the couch while you rest there."
You place your cup on the stump coffee table, shaking your head quickly. "I can't just take over your bed."
"I'm not letting you stay in the living area, y/n." He says, not leaving room for protest. "There's spare clothing in my room, and there's running water as well. Please, take as long as you'd like. I'll wait for you to finish."
You purse your lips, and he raises his eyebrow, waiting for you to challenge him. But you're too exhausted to give a hint of your usual sass so you nod, standing up.
"My room is the last door to the right. And the bathing area is right across from it." He says, grabbing your cup and walking into the kitchen. You watch him for a moment before following where he tells you to go.
You push the door open to his room slowly, peeking inside. You aren’t sure what you expected; but this isn’t what you think a bachelor pad would look like. His room has shelves of books everywhere, some in languages you can’t even pinpoint. The earthy smell of Yeosang swirls around the room, and you take it in, the scent comforting. Scattered papers lay across his desk, but you ignore all of them, walking to his closet and peeking inside. It’s lined with mostly dark colors, so you grab whatever pops in front of your face before closing it quickly. A small thought dawns on you.
You don’t have any underwear.
Your eyes flick to the drawer in the corner, but you shake your head. Nope. Even if he’s your mate, he’s still a complete stranger and going through a stranger’s things is a no-no. You quickly walk out, shutting the door behind you. Going commando is a thing, and you’ll embrace it! You glance into the living area before going into the bathroom, locking the door behind you.
-
Yeosang sits on his couch, running his fingers through his hair. He can hear the scolding of his brothers in his head right now, telling him that this is a bad idea, being alone with you. Telling him that he should have rejected you long ago; that his presence in your life will only make it harder for him to resist you. Because technically, you aren’t his. Not until his marks cover you.
A small knock on his door makes him tense up. He’s been so lost in his thoughts he didn’t hear the pitter patter of his elder brother coming to see him. He walks in without a care, glancing around the open space before staring at Yeosang. He hasn’t dropped his glamor, eyes still the solid human brown. He frowns at Yeosang, closing the door behind him.
“Why have you brought her here again? Didn’t the others tell you how dangerous it is? You might hurt her, or worse. I thought you out of everyone would understand the risk.”
“I thought you would understand, since your partner right now is a Human. You’ve been around her for longer than myself and haven’t hurt her. Saying that I will is hypocritical.”
Yunho rolls his eyes. “You haven’t spent time with Humans in centuries. You find them revolting, you actively avoid their presence. And yet with y/n, you seem to do the complete opposite of what you usually do. Is this really because of Mother?”
Yeosang nods, but stops himself. “No. This is not only because of her. Yunho, I care about y/n. I do. She is different, much more different than the Humans I am used to. I don’t want to see her gone, not yet.” He mumbles. He can’t help but yearn for you, even when you’re still showering, oblivious to the conversation the two of them are having. “And you shouldn’t be here, anyway. You haven’t told her who you are, it’ll upset her when she finds out.”
“And I never was going to tell her, Yeosang. But, you messed everything up,” He growls in frustration. “All of the glamor I put on them, all of the backstory that I’ve made up so that she believes that we grew up with one another, you ruined it.”
“Just tell her!” Yeosang hisses. “y/n can take it. As well as Wooyoung.”
Yunho growls at the mention of his lover’s name, but that doesn’t stop him from continuing.
“She trusts you, and maybe her trust will sway a little, but in the end the two of you have been best friends since she was a child. You’ve spent more time with her than me, she won’t push you away.”
“You don’t know that,” Yunho confesses. “I care about y/n, more than you can ever know. I’ve had no problem with Humans since the beginning. I’ve seen the good nature in them, I’ve seen the destructive nature in them. I have seen them rejoice at their best and fall at their worst. y/n is a pure soul, and there are already very few. But with you… her soul will be tainted. And I don’t want that for her.”
“Mother wouldn’t make her my mate if it would have destroyed her soul.”
“I would agree if Mother wasn’t too occupied with other worlds to focus on ours. She doesn’t just have us as sons, Yeosang. Why do you think we rarely see here within a millennia? We aren’t her favorites, we are one of the first ones she’s created and abandoned. She won’t care about who she made our mates, or the outcome of it. She only cares about her most respected sons, the ones who can control whole planets on their own, not just elements.”
Yunho looks outside for a moment. “She couldn’t even think of one for me. She made me in charge of darkness. All I do is make the moon rise. You hold Earth’s waters in your hands. Mingi holds sunlight at his fingertips, Seonghwa controls the air we breathe and San controls fire. And I, darkness.” He looks at Yeosang, face solemn. “I am telling you this because y/n is more important to me than many things in this world. And I don’t want to be the one to console Wooyoung when you can no longer control the dragon within you, and hurt her in some way. And this isn’t me being a pessimist, this is me being realistic. Face it Yeosang, you aren’t capable of taking care of y/n the way you want to. You don’t even know what cell phones are.”
He sighs, pushing stray hairs from his face. “Just think about this more, alright? Don’t make a decision based on what Mother says, make it based on what’s in your head and heart. More so your head, because your heart only has that dragon controlling it.” He grumbles, taking one last look at the bathroom that you’re in before stepping out.
Yeosang watches him go, biting his lip, his arms still crossed against his chest. “Nice to see you after a few centuries too, Yunho.” He utters.
-
You wrap yourself in Yeosang’s blankets, the smell of him wrapping around you. You could hear Wooyoung and Yunho right now, screaming at you for even stepping outside your house without letting them know. Woo will probably combust from so much anger, Yun having to pick up the pieces from the floor. You puff, letting out a stressed breath. This is a bad idea. This is a really fucking, shitty ass bottom of the bottle, terrible idea.
Even though it’s almost 3am, you can’t even fall asleep. Your eyes won’t dare to shut no matter how much you squeeze them together. You’re not sure if it’s from nervousness or if you’re waiting for Yeosang to knock on your door and say something. You let out a low groan, pushing your blankets off of you and staring at the ceiling.
A mirror stares back at you, and you yelp, on the verge of screeching at your bed head staring back at you. What in the living hell? Why does he have a mirror? Does he watch himself sleep?? Is it a kinky thing? You gasp, staring at the sheets underneath you. Has he? On these sheets? You throw yourself out of the bed, paranoia running through your bones.
What the hell is going on with you? You’re pretty sure you’ve slept completely fine on Wooyoung’s sheets, even though he was known as the sex freak throughout your time as his coworker before he flipped his shit. You rub your face, small whimpers falling from your lips. All you want to do is sleep and yet here’s your mind, throwing water at you and saying no way.
A small knock on your door makes you jump, eyes flicking to the small crack.
“It’s Yeosang. Do you mind if I come in?” he asks softly, and you nod, before realizing that he can’t see you.
“Yes,” you mumble.
He pushes the door open slowly, looking at the bed. His shining eyes move to you curled up on the floor, curiosity in his gaze. But he doesn’t ask, sitting in the chair several feet away from you.
“I couldn’t sleep,” he admits. “I usually don’t have much of an issue on most nights, but my eyes don’t want to close.”
You laugh, a breathy one barely escaping your lips. “Probably because I’m here,” You say, looking away from his gaze, not wanting to see him nod in agreement. “I can still leave, you know. I have a flashlight on my phone and walking down won’t be too bad…”
He snorts. “I’m not letting you walk alone at this time, and I can’t sleep because… Because now that you’re here, my dragon, no, I want to rest next to you.” You don’t lift your head, and he wonders if he offended you in any way, so he quickly cleans up his words. “Being on the couch is fine, I have no issues with that. I can sleep anywhere. But with you here, I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep without you being close to me.” He admits, rubbing the back of his head. “I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable, but I think being honest is best. You… can kick me out any time, I won’t be offended.”
You’re not, not at all. Instead, you feel your chest flutter with the possibility of Yeosang holding you close, his head resting on top of yours, your back against his chest as he presses his lips to your temple and you both fall asleep.
“I want you.” You say simply.
You don’t see the way his face turns pink at your words, ears burning red. You quickly realize what you’ve said, and you backpedal quickly.
“I mean! Haha, I was saying that I want to sleep with you, in the same bed. Like, because we’re tired, not the other,” You throw your head back in frustration. “This is so embarrassing.”
He laughs, and you enjoy the sound. “No, I get what you mean. I want to do that. We should do that.”
You stand up, crawling back underneath the covers. Yeosang follows your lead, lifting up the covers and sliding underneath. Your warmth compared to his cool skin gives you a different feeling. You stare at the ceiling, eyes on him. He met yours, a small smile on his lips.
“You can’t fall asleep with your eyes open,” he says simply, and you snort, turning your back to him. He laughs, and you feel him slide, his back to you as well.
You stay like that for a few minutes, and you know what you want. You’re an adult, all you have to say is-
“Do you mind if I hold you?” he whispers, his body turning to you. A small yes escapes you, and he doesn’t hesitate, pulling you against him.
His chest rests against your back, rising and lifting slowly. Your feet press against his legs, and he basks in their warmth. He wraps his arms around your waist, face in your hair. He takes this moment to breathe you in, your smell surrounding him. His skin is several degrees colder than yours, and the dragon in him tries its best to pull you as close as possible, without hurting you.
Your eyes flutter close, comfort quicker than before. Yeosang mumbles a soft goodnight into your ear, and you whisper it back. Your trip to sleep land is quick.
-
The sun shining through the windows wakes you up in the morning. You squint, trying your best to blink away the night. It feels like weights are trying to keep your eyes closed, but you know it's probably midday, already too long to stay in bed. Your boss is probably endlessly calling you about your assignment for the week. You stretch your arms slowly, palms hitting a solid body. You almost scream, until you think back to last night.
You roll over. Yeosang is still fast asleep, his chest rumbling every time he exhales. His hair is a mess, covering most of his face. You reach out to push it away from his face, but you stop yourself, dropping your arm. He pulls you closer, and you yelp softly, your chest pressed against his. His eyes slowly open, looking down at yours.
"Good morning," You say softly.
He says nothing for a moment, eyes flicking between yours. He blinks slowly, breaths slow. His hands are pressing against your bare back, and you feel something, some thing hard against your stomach. He nuzzles his nose against your forehead, sniffing softly.
You push your hands against his chest, and he tenses up. "Time to go back, yes?"
He quickly lets go, leaning up in bed. He looks at you, glancing down at you wearing his clothes, face darkening. "I need to use the bathroom." He stands quickly walking out and not ever looking back.
You glance down, seeing your nipples perked, on display for the world to see. Now you feel your face warm as you look around the room for your bra. You usually sleep with the bare minimum on, so you're glad he didn't barge in when you were getting dressed. Wearing the same underwear twice in a row is gross, and going commando once in a while couldn't hurt. But you're in his home, wearing his clothes. You slap yourself, grabbing your bra from your dirty clothes pile and quickly putting it on before he walks back in.
You think back to last night, his cool hands wrapped around your waist, soothing in the early morning. If this happened a couple of weeks ago you'd freak, demand that he bring you back home and you'd never see him again. But you like the way he feels, hands oddly soft for a man his size. Pressed lightly against your bare stomach, never traveling lower. Lips pressed against your neck, tongue—
Your hand flicks up to your neck, and you quickly look in the ceiling mirror. Nothing's there, and you sigh in relief. And a bit of disappointment, but you'd rather deal with those feelings by yourself later.
"The bathroom is ready," Yeosang says, not daring to step in the room. I've left a fresh pair of clothing. I don't grow, so everything is my size. And I've realized that..." His face is completely red now. "I don't have any new underwear to give you, since I don't wear any. I'm sorry about that."
You try to keep your eyes on his, not daring to flick down. No, you're being good. Definitely not imagining what he looks like with those pants off. Nope, not at all. Yeosang sniffs, and backs away slightly.
"I'll be in the living room. You can come whenever you're ready, and then we can go back to your home."
He walks away, leaving the door wide open. You scratch your head, grabbing your things and bolting to the bathroom, not daring to even take a glance into the living area.
-
His fingers are gripping his thigh so tight, hard enough to tear. He tries to keep his thoughts empty, but all he can think of is holding you in his arms, his dragon so close to your neck, so close to making you his. Yunho is right; he isn't ready for this. He isn't ready for you, and he's not sure if he'll ever be. You're so delicate, so alive and warm and Human, the complete opposite of him. He's cold, his heart pumps blood but it's useless, he can't die. You're a Human, and he's a dragon.
And nothing will change that.
But he can't stop thinking of how your body curves into his, how you're the perfect size for him to wrap around. How he loves how soft you are under his touch, how you smell. Why are you so enticing, so beautiful and fragile? Yeosang looks at the floor, straining his dragon. He's barely holding himself back. He can't do this anymore. He can't see you anymore, not like this. Not even as friends.
He doesn't want to say it out loud, but after today, he won't be coming back to you. He'll move his home away, in another forest far enough away that you wouldn't look. But close enough that if you're in danger, he'd be able to get there at a moment's notice.
Don't. His dragon whispers to him. This decision will only hurt more. It will hurt us being away from her.
He shakes off the voice, keeping his thoughts rational. No, nothing can change his mind. Nothing.
You walk into the living room, seeing Yeosang stare off into the forest outside. He looks back at you, his eyes a darker brown. Different from the beautiful blue you're used to looking into.
"Yeosang, your eyes—"
He nods. "In case we stumble into Humans hiking. It's better to make myself look like them, so that I don't have to deal with the aftermath. Are you ready to go?" He doesn't seem fazed by you wearing his clothing, eyes calmer than you've ever seen them. You nod, and he walks outside, you follow close behind.
He says nothing to you, despite your long talks from only hours ago. Yeosang keeps several feet ahead of you, ears probably listening to your every movement. You’re not sure what happened over the course of these few hours, but you can’t help but feel worried. Did you do something to bother him? Did it bother him that you accepted his offer so easily? Did you offend him when you were talking last night?
You stumble over a rock, and Yeosang doesn’t bother to glance back. “Be careful of your footing,” He says.
"Did I do something?" You ask after about a half hour of walking. He shakes his head, but doesn't give you a verbal response. Your irritation rises as he keeps his back to you, not even bothering to acknowledge you with a look.
"Is it because you think I'm easy or something? Or did I offend you with something I said last night?"
He shakes his head again, and you stop in your spot. No. You're not going to do this wordless answering anymore. Yeosang sighs, staring straight forward.
"The sun won't be in the sky all day, y/n. It's best to move quickly so that you're safe in your home."
"I won't move until you look at me and tell me what's wrong so we can fix this."
He looks back at you, his lips tight. His eyes are cold, the beautiful warmth from mere hours ago gone from his face. It's like you're a stranger, nothing to him. He pushes a stray strand, tucking it behind his ear.
"It's nothing."
"It's something, or you won't be treating me like shit."
"If you stopped acting so entitled, then maybe you won't feel that way." He hisses, the blue slightly breaking between the brown contacts.
"Excuse me? Me, entitled? You're the one that brought me to your house, kicked me out and then banged on my door, humping it like a dog in heat. And then you barged into my home unannounced, basically on your knees to be my friend. And then you say that I'm your mate. And you're telling me that I'm entitled? When all I've done is accept you when I’ve wanted to push you away. I even believed that you’re a dragon! I didn't even question it!"
You're sick of it, sick of this hot and cold, this warmth and bittersweetness. You just want him to accept you as you are, and not push you away. You just want him to tell you what's wrong.
He stares at you. "All of you Humans are the same. Valuing your lives above everyone else's. Not admitting your mistakes, blaming it on everyone except yourself. You are the one who grabbed Yeouiju from the ground. You are the one who took it away. You started this all, and yet you continue to blame it on me."
The anger emits from your body as you stare at him blaming this all on you. Fuck him, fuck all of this! You storm past him, too tired to give a rat's ass about what he has to say. He grabs your arm, stopping you.
"Didn't you want to know why I'm annoyed?" He asks, and you push him away. He resists, and you struggle against his grip.
"You know what, Dragon? I don't give a fuck why you're mad. Because I've done absolutely nothing but accept you as you are, I've cared for you and all I get back is anger and you continuing to push me away after you open up. I'm tired, I'm tired of playing these games with you. I've never hated someone as much as I do you." You pull again, and this time, you stumble back.
But he doesn't reach for you, letting you fall to the ground. You struggle to your feet, ignoring the dirt that sticks to your clothes. No, his clothes. Yeosang opens his mouth, but you hold one finger up.
"Yeosang, I thought this was going to be something, you know? I thought you were going to accept me being a Human and you being a Dragon. I thought we were going to learn about one another and one day... One day ..."
He knows what you want to say. He desperately waits for the word to fall from your lips, but you shake your head again.
"Don't follow me. I can make it back on my own without your help."
You continue down the mountain, cursing at yourself for believing that he'd never hurt you, that he cares about you. You hope that you can forget what he told you last night, his silent plea for you to care for him completely vanishes from your mind. Your tears stain your cheek as you walk down, but you don't dare to wipe them.
Yeosang's eyes follow your figure, until you completely disappear from your view. He can adjust his sight to watch you go back home, but it'll only be more painful for him. He clenches his fingers, claws digging into the flesh. This is the best way. You, hating him and thinking that he no longer cares for you. It's the only way to keep you safe, he thinks. It's the only way that he can assure you won't come looking for him.
He takes a deep breath, before turning back and walking back home.
-
Wooyoung sees how slow you walk around your kitchen, the bright you he's used to gone. He's not sure what's happened in the past few days, but he doesn't pressure you to say it. You're still writing and editing, so it's nothing with your job. Yunho, even with his endless jokes, doesn't crack a smile on your face. You only nod although, downing your fifth coffee of the day.
"I'm worried about her," Wooyoung says. "She's not herself. y/n always gets into slumps, but nothing this severe. She won't even push us away and never rejects our invitations to stay over. She hates when we're here longer than necessary, Yun." Wooyoung says softly, ear listening to the clicking of you typing on your computer. You keep your headphones in usually, but he wants to make sure you're not listening.
"She even leaves the house, and she never leaves the house. I mean, I've never seen her cupboard so full of crap. It's like she's here, but not. Not really."
"I know." Yunho replies, eyes on your door. Wooyoung can't see, but he can. He can see as your fingers shakes as you type, eyes unfocused. It's you desperately trying to hold on to what you have left, and he knows it's his fault. He frowns softly.
This isn't how it is supposed to be. You're supposed to welcome Yeosang being out of your life, free of the danger that is him. But it seems to only take a toll on you. And there's only one person he can ask about what to do.
Mother.
"Woo, want to stay here for a bit? I'm going to buy us some dinner and I'll be back."
Wooyoung nods at his words, biting his lip in nervousness. Yunho pecks it quickly before standing up, walking out the door. He parks the car a ways away from the property, before closing his eyes. He looks up at the stars, finally locating the one he wants to talk to.
"Hi Mother. I have an issue I need to solve. It's Yeosang, and his mate."
-
Two days go by. Then a week. Then a month. You hike up the mountain, eyes desperately looking for a glimpse of him. But the other side of the river is empty, Yeosang's cottage long gone. You fall to the grass, sobs rocking through you. You don't even feel him with you, our chest void of Yeosang. You never thought that not seeing him would make you feel this way. Like the world ended.
But you tried to move on. You let Yunho and Wooyoung over to your house often, their hilarious behavior letting out small smiles from you. Even if they're a bit strained. Wooyoung noticed the change of behavior in you. He tried to interrogate you about it, but what could you say? It's not like you were in a relationship with him; no, he is, was, just a friend of yours. And even saying that is a stretch. But how can you explain that you feel like your heart is shattered into dozens of pieces, unable to glue back together?
So all you tell him is that you're fine. That it must be the change of seasons, that's all. And he believes you, at least for now. And Yunho, you know that he can see through your facade. He can see how broken you are, although he doesn't say it. But he's over at your home more often than Wooyoung is, cooking for you and reminding you to leave your house often. And you're glad to have someone like him so close to you, someone who's been with you your whole life and won't disappear on a whim.
-
Yeosang sits on his couch, so interested in his sewing that he hasn't noticed all of his brothers arriving in his room, staring at him. Even for an immortal, they have to nourish themselves. Yeosang feeds on sunlight but he hasn't left his home in so long. His cheeks are beginning to look hollow, his eyes losing the steady light that always shined brightly. The tanned dragon is slowly turning gray.
"You can't keep on doing this, it's draining you." Mingi says, tapping him. "I've never seen an immortal close to death, but you look like it. You're losing your shine, Yeosang. Your hair is falling out. You need to go outside."
Yeosang shakes his head. "I don't need to control water and plants from outside. All I have to do is flick my wrist, and they'll be fine."
"Stop acting like a child, it's like you've lost someone," Seonghwa grumbles, and he sees him stop in his sewing for a moment, before continuing. "Wait, when was the last time you've seen y/n?"
"It doesn't matter."
They all exchange looks, before their eyes land on Yunho. Yunho says nothing, staring at his younger brother. He's never seen Yeosang so frail, so weak. He rubs his face. This isn't what he wants. He wants you to be safe, he wants Yeosang to learn how to interact with Humans before becoming your mate. But hiding out in this cottage? Not saying anything to anyone for months at a time?
"What did you say to him?" San shakes his head. "Even we didn't interfere with how he and y/n interacted. You should know better than to involve yourself with mates. You know what happens if they're separated for too long."
"She's not my mate," Yeosang says softly. His voice is a bit scratchy from not talking for so long. "We didn't complete the marking. She is still free to live her life. To be unrestricted."
"That's not how it works, Yeo," Yunho finally says. "That's how our species mates, yes. But you both, you are soulmates. Lost in their creation, and split in two. And when you met, they finally lived in harmony. But when you separate them like this, it will only slowly kill you. You have to stay with your other soul." He looks at Yeosang, reaching out and stopping his hand from moving.
"I said those things about you out of anger. Your soul won't hurt her, it's destined to protect her. To protect her soul. Yes, you have to beware of your dragon, for he is fearsome. But that is all you have to worry about. y/n is yours, you two are meant to be."
"That's why, when San and I finally visited y/n, we knew. We saw how entwined your souls were, and we vowed to never try to separate you two. Seonghwa did as well, but it seems like Yunho didn't get the message," Mingi glares at the eldest. "But you have to go back to her. Her soul is yours, and yours is hers. Please just fix this."
Yeosang scoffs, pushing his hand away. He runs his fingers through his overgrown locks, hair in serious need for a wash. He thinks back to how he cut the ties with you, left you walking down the mountain alone, not even daring to look back. You're better off without him now.
"Mother told me." Yunho says, seeing the resistance in Yeosang's face. "She told me what happens when you're separated from your mate and reject them."
Seonghwa shakes his head. "This is why you shouldn't have involved yourself, Yun. Mind your business next time, like the rest of us."
"There's no use arguing about it," Mingi says softly. "Yeosang will make his decision, and that's it. We will respect it and move on. But let's give him some time alone." He looks at how pained his brother looks, and hates that they were a primary cause of it. "I'll see you in a bit, yes?" He pats Yeosang's shoulder, walking out.
San says nothing, following close behind. Seonghwa already disappeared into thin air, a bit ironic since he controls it. Yunho is the last one left.
"Go." Yeosang says simply. "I'll figure this out, but you need to leave. I know you wanted what was best for both of us, but you made a mistake, and now we have to suffer because of it."
Yeosang looked at him, the blue faded. "Give me some time."
Yunho nods. "If it makes it better, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to get this far." He turns, walking out the cottage and closing the door behind him.
Yeosang slowly puts his materials away, thoughts consumed with you. You standing on the other side of the river, sobs reaching him as he watched you, too terrified to tell you that he never left. That he just hid his home from you. That despite Yunho's warnings he couldn't bear to leave you alone, not without being close enough to feel your presence.
He grabs his dirty plates off his small wooden table, tossing them into the sink so roughly a few break from impact. He leans over the small sink, staring down at the shards decorating the bottom. He's rejected the idea of you for so long, he doesn't know what it means to finally accept you for who you are. If he's true to himself, he has pushed you away even before Yunho told him to. He didn't like the idea of you and expressed it vehemently to you whenever he was given the chance. Now, his dragon is finally content in his chest, accepting you fully.
He closes his eyes, sucking in a deep breath. Now all he has to do is see if you're willing to love him back.
-
You bang your fist on your keyboard, groaning. All of that progress, all of the hard work and dedication you put into editing is gone. Washed down the drain of the internet, never to be seen again. The document somehow deleted since the last time you looked at it, only the first draft sitting on your desktop. You're too exhausted to even complain about it, needing coffee more than anything else.
But you don't have coffee. You rub your neck, hands landing on the rock necklace that graces your throat. You touch it softly, before reaching back and taking it off, tossing it in a small drawer in your desk. You don't need it, you don't need him. But you don't have the heart to throw it away. You glare at the drawer one last time, before grabbing your bag, leaving him behind.
-
Yeosang washes his hair quickly, the hot water not enough to scrub away his regrets. He steps out of the shower, glancing at himself in the mirror. He looks exhausted, eyes void of emotion and cheeks a bit sickly. He touches his facial hair, growing a small beard from not shaving. He eyes the razor in the corner of the sink.
Should he trim it? Perhaps you'll like the beard on his face, different from the dragon you're used to. He grabs it, and the scissors, trimming it low enough to leave a shadow, but not all the way down. He already trimmed his hair in the shower, still long enough to tuck it back into a bun if he wanted to. He brushes it back, before he feels the fingers throb.
He stares down at them, seeing the glow rise. You took off the necklace. His heart drops, mood immediately anxious. Did you not listen to him? You needed to keep it on when he's not around you, he won't be able to protect you all the time—
He grabs his sweats, not bothering to dry himself off completely. You couldn't have gone that far.
-
You stare at the prices of vegetables, frowning. Did they increase them somehow? You haven't shopped by yourself in forever, but were they always this expensive? You glare at the outside of the pepper, rubbing it slightly. It's too shiny for your liking, probably filled with nasty pesticides and other gross things to make them look this way. You groan, throwing it back into the pile. You should have stolen some from Yeo— your friend's herb garden. Or maybe one day investing on your own. You have the acres, all you need to do is use them.
You grab the most natural looking one that doesn't have brown spots, and toss it into your basket. You don't notice the frantic look of a man who's just walked into the grocery store, eyes searching for only you.
You excuse yourself around a elderly couple, smiling at the woman as she scolds her husband for picking the item that's three cents more. It warms your heart to see older couples; thinking of what brought them together and how they're still together. Did they meet when they were in high school? Maybe in the middle of school dance? Or did they meet in college, eyes meeting one another across the library? Maybe reuniting after years of not being with one another, too scared to tell the other how they feel? Your mind runs through these scenarios, until your eyes land on a man not too far away from you.
If you didn't recognize the giant coat he loves to wear, you would have dismissed him. But the pumping of your heart in your ears, the dryness of your throat as your eyes land on him. He's talking to an employee of the store, eyes the cold brown you hate. He turns around, stopping in his words, and looks to you. You clutch your basket between your fingers, not daring to move as he nods at the employee once, before walking over to you. He's not that tall, you've seen taller, but he walks with purpose, head held high.
You snap out of your daze, placing your basket to the side and excusing yourself as you navigate through the people, walking out the door. No, he can't just show up again. Not after pushing you away with a stupid explanation, leaving you to deal with whatever is between you on your own. Your hand fumbles with the keys in your pocket as you jog to your car, chest rising and falling quickly.
You click the unlock button, glancing back and forth before crossing the street. You don't see the cyclist pedaling quickly, staring at his phone instead of what's in front of him. Before he gets too close, a hand yanks you forward.You shriek, falling forward into his chest. The man in the bike yells a quick apology before pedaling away, seeing the glare of Yeosang, seeping through the contacts he wears. You pull back away from him, dusting off your clothing before opening the door of your car.
Yeosang pushes on it, closing it back.You groan, rubbing your face in frustration.
"Why did you take off your necklace?" He demands, the first words to come out of his mouth since he left you.
Is that what this is about? A stupid rock necklace? "What? Did you want it back or something? I can give it back to you, just leave me alone."
He shakes his head in frustration. "No, y/n. It's not just a decorative item. It protects you when I'm not around. That is why I gave it to you. You cannot just throw it to the side."
You huff. "I don't need your protection. If I did, you wouldn't have left. You would have stayed, but you didn't. Please just let me go home, I don't need this right now. I want to be alone."
"Can you listen to me for five minutes? I can explain why I left if you'd just listen to me. Please." He tries to catch your gaze but you avoid his eyes.
No. You won't be pulled into this sob story of his again. You don't care about the balance of the world or his problems anymore. You've moved on. Just like he wanted you to. You pull on the door again, but he doesn't move his hand.
"You're not asking, are you?"
"I'm sorry," is all he says. "I just, I really need you to listen. We don't have to do it out here, we can go to your home—"
Absolutely the fuck not. Even him standing here is making you feel things you'd rather not. Being in your small home, his scent swirling around? You'd probably go more feral than you already are.
"Follow me," You press the lock on your car, marching over to a small bench. You sit down, gesturing for him to follow. He kept his distance, sitting as far away as he could. He looks at you, waiting. Waiting for your eyes to meet his, but you stare ahead, lips in a straight line. You're giving him little pull, but he accepts it. He hurt you, and still is. Even this small communication between you is more than he deserves.
"You already know about the mates thing and about me being a dragon."
A woman walks but raises her eyebrow and pulls her child closer, pace increasing.
"I didn't want to leave you. I didn't tell you, but one of my brothers came to see me the night you stayed at my home. He was concerned about my acceptance of you being a Human, and empathized that I hated Humans so much that it wouldn't work. That I'm not around them enough to be able to even comprehend how to care for one. That I will hurt you like one of the others did. And I was scared."
You play with the skin next to your fingernails, biting your lip. You never would've guessed that the big, bad dragon could be scared. You glance at him from the corner of your eye, and he's still looking at you. Gaze steady. Eyes sure.
"That's why I let you go. Made you believe that I wanted you gone, even though I wanted you to stay, I wanted to be there for you as much as I could. But I couldn't risk your life just for my pleasure of seeing you. I didn't want to do that. So I hide away from you. I saw you, when you walked back up the mountain. Crying when you saw my cottage gone." He looks down, feeling his eyes grow watery. He wipes it away, continuing. "I desperately wanted to run to you and say that I'd never leave you. But that would only lead down a bad path. At least, that's what I thought until recently."
"He told me that mates are more than that. That he made a mistake. My brother, Mingi, found his long ago even though he killed them by accident. He hasn't been the same since, and we weren't sure why. We thought it was grief, but it's so much more than that."
His eyes flick back and forth. "I don't know if this term is correct, but he phrased it as 'soulmates'. Two souls so entwined that whenever they separate for too long, or a rejection, they slowly die."
You finally turn to him. You see the fading of his beautiful hair, a slight beard covering his face. He reaches up, taking out his contacts. He looks at you, and you hold back your gasp. The beautiful blue you're used to seeing is faded, as if he's aged centuries in only a few months. You reach out, rubbing away a tear that falls without thinking. You pull back quickly, blinking quickly.
"I'm dying. And you're dying too, but it's not as obvious." His eyes flick around your face; from the deep bags underneath your eyes to the lifeless hair that you have pulled back from your face. You laugh dryly, shaking your head.
"Being tired doesn't mean I'm dying."
You say those words, but you believe him. Besides the last time you saw him, he's never lied to you. You feel the exhaustion sticking to your bones. But right when your eyes met his in that parking lot, things immediately felt lighter. The fluorescent lights in the shabby supermarket didn't burn as much. You were literally stuck in place as he walked up to you.
"I'm sorry." He says again. "I'm sorry for doing this to you, for pushing you away when I wanted you next to me. I can't stop thinking about you." He admits. "And I know you won't welcome me into your arms quickly, but I hope that we can start again, from the beginning."
You want to. You want to pretend that you don't want to do it desperately, but you do. You miss him, you miss the smile that he shows you, you miss the slight pout he makes when he's in deep thought, the slight widening of his eyes as he speaks about something he loves. You can't stop thinking about him, either. You nod.
"Okay, but no more secrets."
He closes his eyes. "What if the secret isn't mine to tell?"
You turn to him sharply. "There's something else? Yeosang, what the fuck? Are you a God or something now?"
He stares at you for a long minute, before throwing back his head in laughter. "I didn't tell you this, but Humans long ago used to pray to my brothers and I, giving sacrifices and holding ceremonies in our honor." He furrowed his eyebrows in concentration. "I couldn't ever understand why. We were prevented from interfering, but why sacrifice to someone you cannot see or feel? And why do you think that we will accept that? It's a strange behavior." He cocks his head for a moment, shaking his head.
"You're avoiding my question," you narrow your eyes. "What's the secret?"
He purses his lips. "It would be best if you bring your friends Wooyoung and Yunho over to your home so that we may discuss it together. It's impossible for me to tell on my own."
"You need my friends to tell your secret?" You question, and he nods.
"It will be best if they are there, yes."
"And why does it need to be in my house? Can't we go somewhere in public?"
He sighs. "I have already been given strange looks as people heard my words walking by. I am supposed to keep my presence a mystery, and not show myself. But I am already out here in public, this only makes matters more dire."
You chuckle. This silly dragon. "No one would believe your words. I'll invite them, but I still need to go shopping." You stand, and he follows your movements. "Are you coming?"
He nods quickly.
-
He follows close behind you as you grab the basket you left, thankfully still in the same spot as before. You look around the aisles, nose wrinkling as his scent fills your nose. You’re still a bit annoyed with him, angry if you really think about it, so him being so close and copying your every movement slightly irritates you. You turn back, and he looks down at you.
“Have you forgotten what you wanted to get?” He asks, and you shake your head.
“No. But do you have to stand so close? It’s not like I’m going to go anywhere,” You walk forward, the stomping of his feet echoing around the small store. If he’s any louder he’d break the tiles, you think.
Your eyes look for the sign for coffee, but before you could walk down, Yeosang brushes past you, eyes focused ahead. He picks up a small container and points it to you. A dragon covers the front of the box, one of the popular name brands you’re used to seeing. You see the slight pout grace his lips as he points at it.
“Dragons don’t look like this, why do Humans depict it this way?”
You shrug, “Probably because of how friendly it looks? No one wants a terrifying dragon on the outside of a box. Most things are made to look approachable, not scary.”
“But we don’t breathe fire, well, none of us but San,” He puts it on the shelf. “Humans long ago wouldn’t dare do such a thing. They cherished our presence, and would never defame us this way.”
He goes on and on about the treatment of dragons as you look through the varieties of coffee, hopefully finding the one you enjoy the most. Yeosang grabs something else, and before you could scold him for it, he hands you your favorite brand.
You raise your brows in surprise.“How’s you know?”
“Because it smells like you,” he says simply, grabbing another. “And I like how it smells on you. How many do you want?” He holds another in his hand, and you shake him away.
“Only two. Coffee isn’t that good for you, you know. And I love the caffeine, so I can’t get decaf,” you say, walking down the next aisle.
His eyes roam around the store in wonder, quickly tagging behind you whenever your smell fades. You wince whenever he bumps into a display or shelf, but admire him when he helps an older man pick something off a shelf. He complains about despising Humans constantly, but all you see is a clumsy, gentle man not so carefully guiding his way through the store with a slight smile on his face. Whatever his other brother said to him, you can’t believe it. No one that hated people this much could walk around you all with such a calm demeanor. He’s been hiding that he cares for so long, and you decide to ask him about that another time.
You put your items on the conveyor belt, Yeosang watching as the cashier slowly scans your items. He gives Yeosang an odd look but says nothing, telling you your total.
“I didn’t see you bring anything to trade,” he whispers. God, when was the last time he’s left the house? You pass the cashier the money as Yeosang stares in confusion as the currency is exchanged. You reach to grab the bags but Yeosang takes it from you, walking out the store.
“Paper? You give him paper in exchange for all of those goods? Is this how society is now?”
“When was the last time you got some fresh air besides today?” You ask him, and he thinks deeply.
“The last time I left was when people exchanged goods for goods. A cloth for a few tomatoes. Things like that.”
He hasn’t been outside in hundreds of years.
“How do you have all of those things in your house then? A shower, clothes, dishes?”
“My brothers bring me most things since they know how I feel about the Human world. And I make many on my own. Water freely runs through my shower because I control it. I don’t need the modern plumbing that you have in your home. As I told you before, there’s no reason for me to go outside since I can grow my own plants easily.”
“So water just appears out of thin air?” You can’t believe it.
He laughs as you open the door to your car, placing the bags on your backseat. He glances around the neighborhood, before holding up his hand. You feel a slight breeze as he points to his hand, slowly twirling his fingers. A small tornado appears in his hand, but instead of wind it’s a whirlpool, droplets of water spinning quickly. He watches as you stare at it in amazement. You reach your finger to poke it, and he stops, the water dripping into his hand, back into its normal state. He blows on it and it disappears into the air, as if he just didn’t make it come to him.
“All air has a bit of water in it. Since Seonghwa controls the air, he’s always frustrated when I do things like that, but yes. Water out of thin air.”
You grin widely. “You’re really amazing, you know that?”
A blush immediately covers his face, and you laugh. Your phone vibrates in your pocket, and you glance down, seeing the caller ID.
“Hey-”
“Why are you calling me to your house? And you said it’s an emergency? Why don’t you call the police and why are you being so vague?” Wooyoung spitfires the questions one after another, “I swear to the fucking hills, if you went into that forest again I’ll literally bury you myself. Eight feet under.”
You roll your eyes at him, knowing he can’t see it. “Can you relax for two seconds, please? So, do you remember that Dragon egg thing that we found in the forest?“
“We found? You mean you found, and irresponsibly brought into your home, not knowing anything about it and me finding out that it’s basically a mating egg-”
Yeosang pulls the cell phone away from you, placing it next to his ear. “Listen, Wooyoung, right?”
“Who in the living fuck-”
“We don’t have time for your antics. Listen to what y/n has to say, and come to her home. And as a clarification, it is not a dragon egg or a mating egg. It is Yeouiju, and it stays in my possession.” He hands the phone back to you, a triumphant look in his eyes.
You put the phone back to your ear, “Hey.”
There’s silence for a moment. “That’s the dragon, isn’t it?” He asks softly. “What the Hell have you gotten yourself into, y/n?”
“Just bring Yunho with you and come to my house in a few hours, alright? I’ll give you food and everything.”
“Alright,” You almost hit the end call button, but Wooyoung shrieks before you can. “Are you okay? I know he can probably hear me, but are you safe?”
You glance at Yeosang, and he’s staring off into the street, but you know he’s listening. The way his ear twitches when he hears himself being mentioned is proof enough. ”He won’t hurt me, I’m okay. See you later.” You hang up, unlocking the door to your car.
You gesture for Yeosang to enter, and he struggles for a moment, before finally swinging the door too wide and jumping inside. He slams it rather hard and you wince. He looks at you apologetically.
“It would be easier for me to bring the both of us back to your home,” He says, rubbing his neck. “That’s what wings are for.”
You gasp a bit too loudly, and he looks at you in concern. “So that night, I was right! You do have wings-! Wait, no, let’s deal with this later.” You turn on your car, glancing both ways before looking at Yeosang. He watches you, his head cocked.
“Put on your seat belt.” You say.
“What’s a seat belt?” You point to yours, and he looks behind him, seeing it resting inside the interior. He glances at you once more before yanking on it.
You hear a loud crack, and pray to the heavens that he didn’t break it. You peek over, seeing a large, gaping hole where the seat belt used to be. Your poor car, the only one that you’ve had since high school. Your baby. And he broke her.
He looks at you quickly, “Ah! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I’ll fix it!” He reaches out to touch it, but you grab his hand, stopping him.
“No, no. It’s fine, just pretend that you have a seat belt and don’t jump out of the window. You’ll be fine. My car will be fine.”
You take one more look at the hole, a pained clench to your heart.
-
You finally get home after the long and quiet ride, Yeosang's eyes rarely leaving your face as you drive. You never felt more unsafe in this small car of yours, his hair brushing against the ceiling of your car, your hands sweaty against the wheel. He smiled whenever you made a snide comment at a terrible driver, glaring at them as you passed by.
"I've never seen you so furious. This is worse than when you're stuck at your computer." He mumbles, rubbing between your eyebrows. Your eyes flutter at his touch as he tries to rub away the frown lines. "There's much more things to worry about in life than incompetent carriages."
"Like," he leans forward, a smirk on his lips as you lean away, "A dragon in yours."
"Yea, yea. But from the time that I've met you to now, you're not as scary as before."
The smirk drops from his lips. He thinks for a moment, moving back. His eyes flick to you, before looking away.
"Did I scare you back then? I didn't realize how much of an impact it would have had on you, but I'm deeply sorry. That's not me; I won't ever do that again. Not when I'm clear-headed." He looks at you, a strained smile cracking his cool facade. "I won't hurt you."
"I already know that, Yeo. At least, physically." You get out of the car before he could ask more questions, already putting behind the months without talking to him. You're still a bit pissed about it, yes, but your mother always taught you that it's better for you to move on. No need to dwell on the bad things in your life.
Yeosang helps you carry the bags into your home, watching as you walk around the kitchen and put things away. Your phone vibrates, and you see that Wooyoung messaged you about being about fifteen or so minutes away. You run your fingers through your hair, looking up at Yeosang. He sits on the stool, staring at his hands.
"Is it that bad?" You ask softly. "That you need to bring my friends?"
His eyes look at you pitifully. "I wish I could explain it to you myself, but it's too close to home. It wouldn't be right for me to explain this story without them being here. They both... Need to be present in order for you to believe that it's true. Especially Wooyoung." He rubs his chin, the scratching of his hairs echoing around the kitchen.
You aren't one to care whether or not a man has a beard, but your eyes keep on trailing back to the nine o'clock shadow covering his cheeks, to the new piercings that cover his ear. Whatever happened these past few months; you know he's gotten more attractive. Even the aura around him seems more sure of himself, the fearful mate gone. Your eyes move to his lips, unconsciously licking your own.
"y/n?"
You snap out of it, eyes back on his. He looks at you in amusement, a playful look in his eyes. You clear your throat, and he points to the door.
"I believe your friends are here."
You nod, quickly walking over and throwing open the door. Wooyoung looks at you, hair a mess and a wary look in his eyes. Standing a couple of feet away from him is Yunho, the grin always stuck on his face. He looks as sharp as usual, probably just coming back from the hospital. Wooyoung walks in, Yunho squeezing your shoulder as he walks by, completely different from the cold shoulder he's been giving you for days.
Wooyoung looks at Yeosang sitting in the kitchen and freezes in his steps for a moment. Yeosang stands, holding out his hand to Wooyoung. Your friend takes it, his body trembling slightly.
"Pleasure to meet you," Yeosang rumbles. "I've heard a lot about you."
"And I've heard nothing about you," Wooyoung murmurs, glancing at you in silent anger. Yunho takes a step into the kitchen, eyes on Yeosang.
You notice the air tense up once they look at one another. The Yunho that greeted you at the door is gone, replaced with a solemn him. He nods at Yeosang, arms crossed against his chest. You shut the door behind you, walking and standing next to Wooyoung. You feel the anxiety emitting off of him and you rub his fingers slowly, trying to calm him down.
They continue to look at each other in silent thought, as if they're communicating without speaking. Yeosang seems to grow in frustration as he looks at Yunho, and you knock on the table, trying to get their attention.
"What the hell is going on?" You ask, glancing between the two. "Do you know each other?" Wooyoung scoffs, and you look at him. "What?"
“It'll be hard for brothers not to know each other, right?" Wooyoung murmurs.
Brothers.
You look at Yeosang. He takes in a breath, looking down in shame. You look over at Yunho and he seems to be more relaxed, leaning against the counter as he looks at you. Too relaxed, as if Wooyoung didn't just tell you this groundbreaking fucking news.
Your head pounds as you take it in, seeing the obvious tension between the brothers. Brothers. They're brothers. Yeosang is a dragon, so that means ...
"You're a dragon," you say softly, eyes watering as you look at Yunho. He drops the careless act, taking a step to you. Wooyoung pulls you close to him, ignoring the low rumble of Yeosang's chest as he presses himself against you.
It's not possible. You've grown up with one another, you spent your whole life next to Yun. He can't be.
"Don't do that," Wooyoung says. "Don't try that everything's okay bullshit. You've lied to her, you lied to the both of us. So drop the cocky attitude and say it like it is."
Yunho touches the edge of the counter, the island separating you and Wooyoung from the brothers. Humans from dragons.
"It's true. I didn't think I'd ever have to tell you this, but I am like Yeosang. I am a dragon." He closes his eyes, before opening them.
A dark abyss stares back at you, completely different from the bright blue you love to see. His is empty, just an endless void. He turns to Yeosang, before looking back at you.
"I didn't want to lie—"
"Just stop with the excuses and tell the story, Yunho. We don't have all night for your nonsense. We've heard enough of that for a millennia," Yeosang interrupts. "Say it."
"Watch your tone," Yunho growls, and you feel the room shake slightly at his rise in tone. Yeosang doesn't flinch though, an exasperated sigh falling from his lips. Yun looks back and you and Wooyoung.
"When you were young, I found you alone in your home. Your parents abandoned you when you were only five earth years old. Left you behind in that shack. At the time, I was very wary of taking care of you. I thought about bringing you to a local shelter. So, disguised as a Human, I flew to a nearby one. I dropped you off on the steps, but before I could let you go, you called me by my name. My true name."
He smiles. "I couldn't have fathomed that a Human child would even be able to know that. And then, I looked at the shelter I was to leave you at, and I couldn't. So I raised you as my own. I was your mother and father, putting up a mask so that you'd never know. I was your friend as well, taking care of you every moment that I could. I didn't want you to have a bad life; so I raised you in a small town with people you'd know. Once you grew and left home, I didn't have to pretend to be your parents anymore. I kept the thought in your head that you recently saw them, so you wouldn't be tempted to go back."
"You... you manipulated me." You say. "You made me think I had parents, that I had this life when I was always alone."
Yunho shakes his head. "No, you had me. We had each other. You were never alone, y/n."
All through elementary, high school and college, he's been your only friend. At least, until you met Wooyoung. You've been friends with someone that's lied to you for your whole life. Your head is throbbing terribly, and you rub it slowly, trying your best to calm yourself down before you faint or have a breakdown.
"Are you alright?" Yeosang asks, and you look at him. Your eyes are bright red, your body trembling. He stands up, walking around the corner to you.
You don't bother complaining as he pulls you out of Wooyoung's arms, turning on the faucet and pressing his wet fingers to your forehead. You feel a slightly burst of heat before it gets cool, crawling across your forehead and soothing your throbbing headache.
Yunho looks at you in concern, knowing that if he gets closer to you, it'll only get worse. Yeosang bends over as he stares at you, waiting for you to tell him you're okay. You nod slowly, and he stares at you for a moment more before sitting back down in his spot.
"I'm sorry," Yunho says. "At the time, I didn't know how essential it was for Humans to be in contact with other humans, and for you to have someone other than me. I wanted you to have a good life, but it seems like I made it worse." You see the guilt ridden in his features.
"Everyday I wanted to tell you what I am. But, I couldn't. Humans shouldn't know about our existence. But since you are Yeosang's mate, and Wooyoung is my..." His eyes flick to Wooyoung, before he looks back at you. "We thought it would be best to tell you. I just wasn't sure when, until Wooyoung called me. I told him before this, that's why he's not that shocked to hear my words."
Yunho rubs his head, "And I am the one who insisted that Yeosang never see you. That you two should separate and never reunite. I thought it would be best, but as we've found out, I'm wrong."
Your head is spinning. Too much information thrown at you all at once. All of their eyes on you as you take it in, waiting for a response. But all you could do is nod and shake your head, that being painful enough. You know that Yeosang could smell and feel how you're doing, especially from the frustrated look in his eyes.
"This conversation is done," Yeosang says, turning to his brother. "y/n needs some time to think this over. Come back if she wants you to, but it's a lot of information for her to deal with. I know you wanted immediate action, but give her some time."
If you could jump over the counter and kiss him all over you would. But all you could do is give him a smile.
"Okay. Okay." Yunho looks at Wooyoung. "Would you like me to go home on my own?"
Wooyoung grips his keys in his hand, looking over at you. He presses his lips to your forehead, squeezing your hand slightly before turning to him.
"Let's go. We'll talk more about this on our way back. y/n?"
You look at Wooyoung, and you see the exhaustion in his eyes. It's hit him, not as dramatically and life changing as you, but still. He doesn't look like his happy go lucky self, bags under his eyes and hair wild on his head. You wish you could hug him and tell him it'll be okay, but you fear that if you open your mouth you'd just scream and cry. So you nod at him.
"I love you, you know that right?" He cocks his head. "And I'll kick his ass if you want me to." He glances over at Yeosang. "Call me or text me when you can."
He kisses your forehead once more before pushing past Yunho, who gives you one last sorrowful look before following after him. They close the door behind them, leaving you and Yeosang in silence.
Yeosang says nothing, the silence ringing in your ears. You feel the breakdown slowly build as you stand there, hands quickly rubbing against one another. The image of your mother is slowly disappearing, her wise words slowly morphing into Yunho's, his voice replacing hers. You never really thought about it, but your parents are a blur. You don't have pictures with them, your graduation pictures are selfies with Yun. Your whole life is a lie, no matter how you look at it.
Your breaths quicken, head throbbing. You hear Yeosang saying something, but your head spins, too overwhelmed to answer. You clutch the counter in front of you, eyes flicking back and forth.
“y/n!"
His voice rumbles around you and you look at him. He holds his face between your hands, rubbing your cheek lightly.
"Take slow breaths, in and out," His hand places yours on his chest, holding it there. "Follow the rise and fall of my chest, and do the same thing. In and out."
Your lips tremble as you try to follow his instructions. He feels your heart slowly go back to normal as he rubs your cheek. Your eyes are closed as he watches you for any signs of you beginning to faint. But you're listening attentively, despite your life crashing before you. You open them. He smiles at you, dropping his hands from your cheeks, the cool feeling gone. You're a bit better now, and you smile at him.
"Will it be okay?"
You ask with your eyes, willing him to understand. He holds out his arms, and you don't hesitate; falling into his embrace easily. His body surrounds you as you sob into his chest, his hands rubbing your back lightly. Your fingers dig into his back, a normal human would hiss at the grip but it doesn't bother him in the slightest. His lips are pressed into your hair as you shake in his arms. There's no words that could take the hurt and betrayal that you feel away, no matter how hard he thinks. He wants you to be okay, he wants to see the smile gracing your face again. So he says the only words he can.
"I'm here for you, y/n. I'm not leaving you. Not again."
-
You sit on the bench, staring at your laptop that rests on your lap. Yeosang insists that you get some fresh air, the air in your house too stale. You didn't want to; your home is so cozy and you can just open the windows. You used to love the outdoors, you spent most of your childhood outside. But after the revelation that Yunho dropped on you a few weeks ago, you didn't want it anymore. You know that all he wanted was for you to have a good life, but the way he manipulated you; you're not sure if you can forgive such an act. You close the computer, tossing it to the grass softly and stretching your body. You close your eyes as the sun beams down on you, the soft breeze comforting. You touch the necklace that rests on your neck again, wishing that Yeosang is here to enjoy the day with you.
After that night, he stayed true to his promise. You couldn't stay in your home, too familiar and too many traces of Yunho around you. So Yeosang brought you back to his, carefully taking care of you and letting you sleep on his bed alone. You missed the comfort of his cool body against your own, but he respected you, even when you whined for him to stay next to you. He didn't mind sleeping in the living room alone, although you noticed how he kept close to the fireplace.
As you stayed with him, you noticed a lot about him. He constantly wore layers, even in the summer sun. After prying a bit, he told you that the snake side of him craved warmth since he's cold-blooded. That's why his dragon wanted to stay close to you so often. That's why he always stuck close to you wherever you went. He craved warmth, soft rumbles in his chest each time you brushed against him or stood close enough.
You knew you were overstaying your welcome at his home, even though he insisted that you were not a stranger. That everything he owns is yours. Despite his intense flattery (you're sure you could heat up the whole country with how embarrassed you were), you decided to go back home.
The first step over the threshold threw you back to the terrible night. But you pushed past the negative feelings and cleaned. It took three full days, but you cleaned your whole home from top to bottom, a bit of a fresh start for you. Yeosang drops by often now, giving you the fresh vegetables he grew and not leaving for hours. He kept his promise, telling you that you're his friend, never bringing up the fact that you're both mates.
But you could feel it.
The stares he'd give you when you're freshly out of the shower, skin clean and covered in nothing but the scent of you. His eyes on you whenever you laughed at something he said, or when you snorted at a silly TV show. The tension between the two of you as you sat at your table and ate, feet only inches apart. Hands a brush away from one another. Napkins dabbing lips and licks dragging across skin. His hands would clench the table, eyes closed as he controlled his instincts, his emotions. You thought the need that you feel whenever he's with you was just a you thing, but after spending some time with each other, it's mutual. But you're scared. You know so much about him now, and you're scared that someday you'll lose him. That all of this is just a fantasy and you'll wake up alone. So you two do this dance every time you're with one another, pretending that you don't want one another when you do.
The breeze makes you open your eyes, and glance at your home. A few more hours until Wooyoung drops by.
You were never mad at him. He's the only friend you trust now; his honesty never swaying. You love Wooyoung, you do. After meeting Yeosang, and Wooyoung being in a relationship, your romantic feelings faded. You still consider him the most important person in your eyes. He's told you that he's still friends with Yunho, constantly nudging you to speak to your long time friend, or should you say parent?
You want to. Sit down and chat, tell him how hurt you still are but that you're ready to forgive. But you're not brave enough yet. Not ready to hear him speak with you. But you miss how his laughter filled the place, brightening up your day in the simplest of ways. You want to forgive him immediately, but a part of you is a bit pessimistic. Why should he be forgiven so easily? He broke your heart, shattering it. But he saved you from a life of sadness and struggle. He took you under his wing without a second thought, and raised you as his own. He was, is, your best friend. He’s been there for you whenever a boy or girl broke your heart, whenever you failed a test.
You sat on the edge of your bed, staring at your phone. The words that she sent you, a simple “I’m sorry we didn’t work out” stuck in your mind. A small knock on the door distracted you, and you turned, seeing your best friend, Yunho standing there. He held your favorite ice cream in his hands, along with your go-to movies. He tilted his head as he watched the tears fall down your cheeks, a small pout on his lips.
“Well, you can’t just spend all day crying about it,” He said simply. “Time to wash that sadness away with this!” He holds it up, rocking on his heels in excitement. “I have every installment of Harry Potter there is, and I even brought a little Dumbledore plush for you.” He threw the DVDs in front of the TV, holding up a small bearded man. He wiggled his eyebrows, and you laughed for the first time in hours.
“You’re an idiot,” You grumbled, and he pulled your bean bags chairs in front of the small TV, dragging you as well. He kissed your forehead before plopping on the chairs, turning it on.
“But I’m your idiot.”
You take a deep breath, opening your eyes again. You hear a soft knock, and turn to your home, seeing Yeosang standing inside. He nods at you, a small smile on his lips. You lean up from your spot as he slides the door open, holding a small bag in his hand. Despite his average frame, he bumps his head into your low hanging flags, glaring at it before walking over to you.
“I apologize for not coming earlier, but I have to warn you-”
The door slides open again, and you look past him, seeing the bright red hair of his brother, San. His red eyes brighten as they look at yours, an excited wave sent your way.
After Yeosang and you mended your bond, the rest of the brothers (excluding Yunho) visited you frequently. You are quite surprised that San seems the most eager to learn more about you, stopping by your house several times a week. Yeosang discouraged him often, wrinkling his nose whenever he smelled his scent in your home, but he did like that you got along well. His brothers are his core, and it only pleased him that you and San were so well acquainted.
“y/n!” He screams, and you wince at his loud voice, rivaling even Wooyoung’s. He runs up to you, pulling you off the bench and into his arms. He always smells like a campfire, probably because his essence is entirely made from flames. He pulls back, ruffling your hair. “How is our favorite human doing?”
“Stop speaking to her like she’s an animal,” Yeosang mumbles, his voice immediately tired. “And I told you not to come out until I tell her.”
“I want to be here when you tell her.” San cocks his head, bottom lip purposely poking out as far as possible. “Yunho is leaving soon, we don’t have all day.”
Yeosang slaps his forehead. “I told you I would tell her-”
“Yunho is leaving?” You interrupt, body rigged. “But he’s lived here forever. Why would he go? Where is he going?”
Yeosang runs his fingers through his hair. “He doesn’t need to leave, but he feels that he’s bringing you and Wooyoung too much grief. He thought it would be best if he separated from this town, and left without saying so. I told him that it would only hurt you more if he left without a word, but he insists. I’m here to bring you to his home, and convince him to stay, because the rest of us couldn’t.”
You blink quickly. “Why… why? Who said I wanted him to stay?”
Yeosang raises a brow. He felt the lie before it even graced your lips, your heart beating faster and your hands fidgeting. San clears his throat. “We don’t have time for your silly human denials, Yunho is minutes from leaving.”
You push down the sour feeling that rises in your chest. He’s right, he’s right. You need to act like an adult and face your fear of seeing him again. You nod, and Yeosang wraps his arm around your waist. You yelp as he presses you against his chest.
“Hey, what are you-!”
“We have to fly there, we don’t have time to drive,” He looks down at you, your faces inches apart. “Do you trust me?”
“…Yes.”
“Then close your eyes.”
You shut them quickly.
Your body floats for a brief moment, heart jumping in your chest as you clutch your tightest onto Yeosang’s shirt. Your hair slaps against your face, cheeks sucked in and nose flaring. The burst of air is so quick, you don’t even get the chance to scream. Yeosang’s arms let you go, and you open your eyes.
You stand in front of Yunho’s apartment. Yeosang brushes your hair away from your face, eyes on yours. His blue flicks between yours, making sure you’re okay.
“Do you feel alright?” He asks, and you nod quickly.
San falls onto the ground seconds later, dirt flying everywhere. Yeosang leans back up, slight annoyance on his features. You love when they interact with one another; since Yeosang is older, he always scowls San whenever he gets the chance. San, despite his cold demeanor from before, is playful and full of life, eyes always sparkling at the newest discoveries.
You pat down your clothes, and run up to Yunho’s door. You don’t bother knocking, swinging it open. He always keeps it unlocked, explaining to you before that he’s not scared of someone robbing him. You always called him crazy, at least, until you realized why he isn’t scared.
Boxes are stacked up around his home. You push past them, looking around for him. Your eyes move to his figure sitting on the couch, head in his hands. He moves them away, looking back at you. You’re still not used to the endless black that looks at you, and he sighs, tugging on his roots.
“Yeosang brought you, didn’t he?” He asks softly. “I didn’t want you to know about this. You were fine without me being here since you found him. You don’t need me anymore.”
“Shut the fuck up for two minutes, Yun,” you move next to him, and he doesn’t flinch as you sit only a foot away. Your eyes scan him. His black eyes look at you, waiting for you to tell him how much you hate him, and that you’re happy he’s leaving.
But you pull his body into yours, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. He feels the tears fall from your eyes, but he doesn’t dare hug you back. He’s afraid that you’ll only push him away. You hold him for a few more moments, before pulling back, wiping your soggy lids.
“I’ve been thinking about what to say to you for so long, how to tell you how much I hated-” his body stiffened at that word- “that you pretended for so long. That you lied to me my whole life, and it took for Yeosang to appear for you to say that everything was a lie. But you know, I didn’t stop thinking about how much you helped me when I was younger.”
You watch as his face stares at yours. Yunho that’s your best friend, your brother, and your family.
“You taught me how to brush on my own. You taught me how to deal with heartbreak in the best and worst ways, you mourned with me when one of my friends passed in college. You taught me that kissing a boy doesn’t mean you’re pregnant, and you taught me right from wrong. God, I hated my parents at some points, and you even came in as my best friend and helped me see that sometimes, parents make mistakes and that no one is perfect. And it was all you. You, you made me into the person that I am today, and I can’t hate you for that.”
His hand trembles when you place yours on the top, squeezing his fingers.
“I cried for so many days when I found out. I cursed at you so much that I didn’t realize that you saved me. You took me out of that house when I was abandoned by the people who created me. You could have left me to die, but you didn’t. Yunho, you saved my life. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you for that.”
You reach up, rubbing the tears that fall from his cheeks. “I don’t care about you being a Dragon, I don’t care that your eyes are black or that your laugh makes me want to scream sometimes.”
He cracks a grin, and your heart warms.
“I just don’t want you to leave thinking that I haven’t forgiven you when I already did. All you wanted was to protect me from danger, and I can’t blame you for that. Like you told me, everyone makes mistakes. We just have to accept, move on and grow.”
He leans forward, pressing his forehead against yours. The same thing that your parents, no, he did when you were a child. “You say that I saved you, but you saved me.” He says softly. “And I will never regret taking care of you. No matter how much you screamed and cried as I changed your diaper, no matter how much I struggled with teaching you the Human way of things. No matter how much I wanted to give up, seeing your face the next day only brought me joy, and I’ll never regret that, Pumpkin.”
You giggle softly at the nickname, “Thank you, Mr. Adult.”
“Well, I guess I can’t leave my kid behind, huh?” He teases, pulling back. You groan, throwing yourself back onto the couch.
“No Dad jokes Yun, I swear to god-”
“Ain’t no God here but me, bay-bee,” He snorts, and you only cover your face with a pillow, a loud scream drowning out his jokes for just a moment.
“I can’t believe I didn’t realize it,” You say. “You literally talk like ‘dad’. The jokes, the mannerisms, I can’t believe I didn’t think about it twice.”
Yunho rolls his eyes. “Why would anyone think that your best friend and your parents are the same person?”
Before you can comment, San bursts through the door, holding a couple of bottles of champagne. Yeosang and Wooyoung drag behind him, both annoyed. You can only giggle at his antics, and he wiggles his brows, yelling about how he loves Human alcohol.
Wooyoung comes next to you, squeezing your shoulder. “Did you make up? Because he’s been whining about you for about a month and I could only take so much.”
“But I thought you didn’t know he was leaving-” You look at Yeosang, and he whistles, waltzing into the kitchen. You glare as he goes, knowing you’re going to have a talk with him later.
-
You rub your eyes, yawning softly as you stand in the kitchen. Yeosang is supposed to be gone for the next few days, helping a small village somewhere continents away to replenish their water supply. He told you countless times that he can do it from the coziness of his home, but you insisted that he actually leave his cabin, and your immediate vicinity for once to explore the outside world. That being said, you walk around in one of his shirts he’s left behind and your underwear, comfortably hidden underneath the fabric. You’ve been a bit cautious around him recently, realizing that you both feel the same attraction for one another. But you know how his dragon gets whenever it gets a whiff of your scent, so you stay layered whenever he’s near.
He’s been a bit strange lately, walking around you in circles every once in a while, eyes on yours as he waits for you to say something. But you immediately called him weird and pushed him away, a sigh falling from his lips as he ignored you for the rest of that day. He always sniffed you from your side as well, rubbing his arm against you for a moment before continuing on in a conversation. You weren’t exactly sure what he would be doing, and you’re a bit anxious to ask. Yeosang is an open book, but you can tell when some things bother him, how he shuts down. Especially at the mention of his Mother, who he never speaks about, and if he does, very vaguely.
You sip your coffee, sitting on the edge of your kitchen stool and flicking through the channels on the TV that rests on your counter. Gordon Ramsay pops up on your screen, and you turn it up, giggling at how he ridicules someone for not knowing how to boil an egg. You hear the creak of your door, and glance over, expecting to see Wooyoung or Yunho.
But Yeosang walks around the corner, eyes a bit tired. He looks at you, a small smile on his lips. You jump up, running over to him and throwing yourself into his arms. He laughs as you wrap them around his neck, his face tucked into yours. He breathes in deeply, missing how you smell. His body grows stiff as you pull away, hopping over to the microwave to heat up your coffee.
You walk over to the stove, pouting at the little amount of apples you have left crisping. “Sorry Yeo, I didn’t think you’d show up until the middle of the week. Do you want some bananas? I have a couple left-”
Your eyes flick to him. The sparkly eyes that you’re used to seeing are dark, the deepest blue you’ve ever seen them. His eyes are focused on your legs, trailing up and ending where his shirt began. You tremble at his gaze and he closes his eyes, taking in a deep breath. His hand grabs the counter next to him, biting his lip as he tries to keep himself together.
“Yeo, are you alright?”
His pupils are blown once they look back at you, trembling each time you take a soft step towards him.
“Don’t move, y/n. Please.” He asks desperately. “Why are you wearing that? Why do you smell different?”
You feel the chill of his skin as you stand only a few feet away from him. You think back to the first time he looked like this, eyes focused on yours. This time, there’s nothing separating the two of you; only his pure resilience and your poor judgment. You think back to what you could have done to make him this way, and your heart drops. You haven’t taken your birth control in a while. Wooyoung told you that he’ll drop it off, but he never did, and it slipped your mind. His chest rises and falls quickly as he waits for you to say something.
“I… I forgot to take my birth control,” You say, and his chest rumbles at your words. You feel your core clench, and he whines, turning away.
“I can’t, I can’t do this,” he mumbles. “y/n, I need you to stand right there and don’t move, or else I’ll-”
“You’ll what?” You ask softly, pulling down your shirt. He only flicks his head back quickly.
“I’ll fuck you into that counter,” he says simply. You know that he’s trying his best to remain in control, but you see the strain on his neck, the white of his knuckles as he keeps himself steady. “Do you want me to do that, y/n?”
His voice flips, hands slowly moving off of the marble. His eyes are blazed as he keeps them trained on you, flicking to whenever you take a step back or move your arm.
“Answer me.”
You try to hear through the deep tone of his voice but your head is throbbing. He has no idea how much you’ve wanted this, wanted him to claim you as his mate. You thought his odd behaviors were only reasons to push you away, his hands rarely gracing your skin.
He stalks toward you, hands dragging against the counter as he watches you play with him, avoiding his steps and doing the opposite of his movements.“I have but so much patience, y/n.”
“I want you to fuck me,” You whisper, and he visibly trembles at your words, quickly walking around the counter. You know he loves the game, so you run quickly into the living room.
Yeosang follows close behind with ease, twirling you around and pressing your chest against his. You feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest, his breaths frantic with need.
“y/n, if we start, there’s no going back,” You hear the sweet voice of Yeosang speak through the lust cloud of the dragon. “Mating is a lifelong commitment. It can be treated with uneasiness. Once you say yes,” his hands brushes against your cheek. “I won’t be able to hold myself back.”
You never thought that you’d like him, let alone love him. His hard exterior is the toughest you’ve had to break through, but inside is the man that you love. The dragon that you love.You reach up, running your hands along his cheek. He leans into your warmth against his cool skin, waiting for your answer with thin patience. You can feel his growing arousal resting against your stomach as you whisper the words he wants to hear.
“I love you, Yeo. I want this, I want you.”
You pull away and he lets you, watching you as you fall back onto the pull out couch, the bed already made. The switch is almost immediate. Soft, smiling Yeo is gone.
He leans over you, pressing his lips to yours immediately. He bites your lower lip, begging to enter you. You don’t protest, letting his tongue explore you. He doesn’t let up, as if he’s searching for something within you. He sucks on your tongue for a moment before moving away.
He grabs your legs, spreading you wide. He presses himself against you, and you ground as he licks a strip up the cloth underwear, before ripping it off easily. He doesn’t waste time; pressing his face into your wet cunt as you tremble at his touch. Three fingers push into you immediately with little prep, and you yelp.
His eyes flick to yours in concern, but seeing you nod, he pushes in and out quickly. His plump lips wrap around your slick as your cunt sucks in his fingers with little resistance. The sounds of your moans echo around the room as he eagerly growls into you, fingers hitting your g-spot with ease. As if he’s done this dozens of times. He grinds himself into the couch, ears perking up as you encourage him to go faster with his strokes. You arch your back as you feel him slip four fingers into you, five, your high slowly reaching its peak. You almost fall over, until Yeosang pulls out quickly. He pulls off his shirt, your eyes scanning over his body.
His skin is covered with what looks like scales, brightly colored blues tracing his chest. He always wears long sleeves, so you never noticed how from elbow up, his arm is decorated with tattoos, some in writings you can’t quite understand. He doesn’t give you much time to dwell on it; ripping off his pants.
His cock springs out onto his belly, and you groan at the size, until you see something else underneath. Another cock, the equal size, sits underneath the first, light blue, dripping with precum. His eyes scan yours, waiting for you to reject him and push him away.
“You’re beautiful,” You say, smiling up at him.
His face reflects his smile as he leans down, pressing his lips lightly against yours. His cocks twitch against your cunt and he groans, licking the curve between your shoulder and neck lightly.
“This isn’t like Humans,” He says, rocking his cocks between your folds slowly. You try your best to concentrate on his voice, feeling the ridges of him brush lightly against your clit. “When I’m about to cum, I’ll bite your neck, y/n. I won’t let go until I’m finished.” He curses, looking between your bodies to see his cocks rub slowly. “I need to know you’re okay with me putting both of them in you. I can put in one if you want, we can stop if you want to-”
“Just do it, Yeosang. I want to feel all of you, I want you to fuck me until I can’t speak, mark my neck and make me yours-”
He presses his tips into you, and you tremble, your first orgasm immediately hitting you, your cunt tightening against him as you moan. He lets you come down from your high, before continuing his slow descent into you. He presses his lips against yours, trying his best to distract you from the stretch your pussy is getting. He tightens his eyes, shoving himself into you in one even stroke.
Your cunt is so tight against his cocks, that he can’t even move for a moment, you hold on him too tight. His balls rest against the outside of your lips, and you’re amazed at how much can fit inside your, the feeling of him completely taking over all of your senses. You know he wants to go as slow as he can, but he can only control himself for so long.
“Ease up, y/n,” He mumbles softly, rubbing your arm softly. You wrap your arms around him, feeling the smoothness of his scales underneath your fingertips. You let go for a moment and he lets out a breath he’s holding, slowly dragging his cock out of you. His eyes look back down, seeing your arousal coating his two cocks.
Your hands reach down, pushing him against you again. He chuckles lowly, pressing a kiss to your temple.
“Can’t wait to fuck you like a real dragon would.”
Before you could respond, he sinks back into you quickly. Your soft moans fall off your lips as he moves in and out of you, the rolling of his hips hitting yours with ease. He runs his tongue along your sweaty neck, hips not stuttering once. You can feel how much he’s pacing himself, the clench of his brows and the strained veins in his neck.
“Go faster,” You encourage, and he shakes his head.
“I don’t want to go faster, I can hurt you.”
“Yeosang if you don’t fuck me, we’re not doing this again.” It’s a lie. It’s an utter, total lie, but he believes it.
He leans up, grabbing both of your legs and placing them on his shoulders. His pace quickens, hips becoming bolder as he collides with your flesh, the squelching sounds echoing in your living room. Yeosang couldn’t care less about how loud he’s being, groaning as he sees you in front of him, your top half still covered and your bottom filled with him.
“All of this, just for me. No one can ever have you, see you like this,” He whispers. “Look at your stomach, I can see my cocks moving in and out of you.” He grunts, strokes relentless. “You’ll look so beautiful filled with my cum, smelling only like me.”
“Yeo,” You struggle through your gasps, and he smirks as drool falls down your cheeks, your eyes moist and head thrown back. “P-Please don’t stop. Fill me up baby.”
His snarl makes your body tremble. He presses his lips to your leg, pace quickening. You hear the strain of your couch under this much movement, hoping that it doesn’t break.
His muscles strain, veins popping out on his arm as he revels in the feeling of your cunt around him. His hips seem to only go faster and faster, cocks easily moving in and out of you. The slap of his skin against yours only fills your mind, his moans music to your ears. You feel how hard his tips hit the inside of you, watch as your belly moves in and out as his cocks swell inside of you. If you weren’t so filled with the thought of him, you’d be terrified that he’d rip you apart with how fast he’s going.
He keeps up the merciless pace with ease, mouth open as he pants, eyes not leaving yours. The slapping of his balls against your lips are music to your ears, and you feel the rise of your arousal coming once again. It’s much quicker this time. He seems to sense it without your words, dropping your legs and pressing himself into you.
“Cum for me,” He says. He grips your hips as he slams into you, his pumping pace making you see stars. His teeth brush against your throat, and you scream as you reach your high. “I love you.”
He sinks his teeth into you, his hips sputtering as he claims you as his. You scream through the pain and the pleasure of him inside you. Your climax hits you so hard, legs wrapping around him as he pumps into you. His hips sputter, his balls slapping against you a few more times until he hits you hard once more. You feel the warmth of his cum hit your walls, filling you up. His cold body wraps around you as he runs his tongue along the wound, slowly closing it up.
Only your quick breaths fill the room as Yeosang pulls you on top of him, your sweaty bodies pressed against one another. He doesn’t slip out, letting his cocks rest inside you as his fingers trace your back.
“Two cocks? Scales?” You say into the silence, and he laughs, pressing his lips against your forehead. “You could have warned me about that, you know.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” He says softly. “I didn’t expect for this to happen right when I got home.”
“Home?” You say, lifting your head and looking at him. You see the deep blush coat his cheeks, the cheeks that you love. You laugh, pressing your lips against his chest. “You’re my home.”
He chuckles slowly.“And you’re mine.”
1K notes · View notes
accio-victuuri · 4 months
Text
their ordinary life. 🏠
i am referencing this post which was allegedly shared in 2021. i like how it’s written and the cpn clues inserted, then making a whole story out of it. a reason why most of us love lrg and other rumor anecdotes is because it’s simple and shows what their day to day life is like. tho they are celebrities with extraordinarily busy lives, the thought of them just being zz and bobo is comforting and sweet. it may be confusing cause there are parts where they are both referenced as they. and then it will switch to “i” as if in the person’s first person pov.
Tumblr media
all of this is fake & fanfiction…
they should have a cat and a dog. everyone knows the cat's name is Tao, the dog’s name also matches the cat very well, it’s called Lizi. it’s a puppy ZZ bought it on impulse, but in the end I had to give it to my mother in Chongqing to deal with the aftermath. they have a home in Beijing, with a room full of helmets and musical instruments. there is also a room equipped with a projector, with warm and artistic decoration. when the two people are tired, they can lie here and watch movies together. there is also a big LCD TV, two people playing games to decide the outcome and doing housework.
the kitchen should be well-equipped, but the storage of materials is not alot, both of them are busy and have little time to cook, but there should be someone that makes trouble while the other person is cooking, and the other person will teach. when that person was making hand cakes, he had a headache several times and wanted to curse.
the room they sleep in, well, the bedding must be of high quality, it must be very comfortable and considerate for two people who both have the habit of sleeping naked. someone should install a night light in the toilet so that people who are afraid of the dark can get up in the middle of the night. there will be lights as soon as the toilet is near. there should be a lot of things on the bedside, eye drops, stomach-protecting tablets, Ryukakusan, cough cough... In short, both of them takes good care of your body! there will be a light fragrance in the room. they are all people who love cleanliness, maybe it’s also due to the scented candles.
there is a huge closet, which could have been used as a styling area in the beginning. one will often buy several pieces at a time and wrap them up. the other will also complain that one person loves shopping so much that he is not frugal and knows how to organize his clothes regularly. it was painful to pick out an old model to wear, and taught another person: "See, this is okay. As for clothes, save money and don’t buy so much. You still have a mortgage. ” another smiled and didn’t say anything. clothes that smell like them over time are familiar and reassuring, as if they are by each other’s side. In this way, they give each other company. Sometimes the trip is too urgent and I don’t pay much attention. both people will pack the wrong clothes into their suitcases. there should also be a small gym, where two actors and teachers can work hard. One person is envious of another's eight-pack abs, and the other possesses someone's waist (don't ask me why I know it's possible because I am a barbell. )
both of them have been doing more and more endorsements, and they have a lot of products at home. when the two brothers are in a good mood, they take one out and play with it, jokingly calling it "opening a blind box." most of the time, they kept sending them to my family, and the family group was noisy.
the two of them still can't stay at home most of the time and are always on the road. yes, headphones are a common item. why? because they are used for making phone calls and watching videos and to chat online. I took out my mobile phone to complain after getting off work. i quickly called to tell him that I miss you. people’s true emotions finally have a safe and secure place. how good is this, just wanting someone who can always listen to me in my life. you act coquettishly. you can complain and cry.
i also surfed the Internet, but I just browsed casually, after all, it was all the same rainbow fart, I want to take some time to listen to that person blowing it to me. sometimes it’s annoying to see fans quarreling. i used my account number to tell them to stop arguing, but it didn’t work. just switch to my other account and fight bravely with heizi ( antis ) and lose. until the account was suspended and blocked, then I took screenshots and felt aggrieved. he said, "Baby, look at me, I've lost another number by helping you.". The other person was amused, and he was no longer troubled by the remarks.
the other side is also keen on surfing and secretly saves a lot of emoticons, all of which are like pigs. regarding this, after I sent it, I laughed so hard that I hit the table and couldn’t stop having fun. hey, of course you can hear the voice of someone screaming on the phone: "Why does it have to be a pig?" "I'm a leopard! Not a pig! You What a stinky rabbit!”
they will take care of eating, taking medicine, drinking water, and taking care of each other when they are sick. they will take good care of each other and care for each other. if you are disobedient, it will be known immediately, and you will be punished, and then you will obey because I want to live a long with the other person. if possible, I hope it will be the same in my next life.
he will also get jealous, lose his temper and act awkward. Alas, as an actor, he is still in the entertainment industry. what can I do? Buy gifts, buy food, make phone calls. if you want to talk, send WeChat, and send some updates and stuck points that fans can’t understand.
In the end, I still couldn't coax him, so I could only study how to fight authentically and run to see the other party. the time is very short, and you may only be able to stay in the car, room, or corner. i left after an hour or two, my temper was gone, and I kept looking at the other person. laugh, give a hug, hold hands for a walk, kiss, and talk for a long time. if it's been a long time, your eyes will inevitably turn red when you separate.
“Every time it’s so short, it’s hard to be separated, and I won’t be able to come next time.
“But I miss you.
"...I know, I'll come see you next time."
knowing that there will be an event for two people on the same stage will make them excited for a long time, and they will fall in love at public expense. love, doesn’t it feel good?
no matter what, they won’t understand the meaning of it anyway. meet backstage, eat a meal together, take ugly photos of each other while doing makeup, and fight. let’s sit together and look at our phones and chat about the current situation. the two people at the back looked right at each other when Fang doesn't speak, the staff will consciously go out and leave them alone.
think hard. I miss you even when I walk. I miss you when I sit. kiss the necklace that you bought for me, look at the blue sky and white clouds, draw a picture, then take the archeology test, and look at the other party’s dark history, snap screenshots and make emoticons and throw them over. it’s the happiness that only artists can have when they fall in love, don’t you understand~
regarding the public, the feeling of being watched by millions of people cheering and blessing that summer it’s really good. surrounded by love from all over the world, you will feel that there is nothing better than our happy couple. maybe, one day, wait for the rainbow to come. On that day, I am Lao Wang and he was Lao Xiao. We walked in front of everyone. before, he drew a story about us, told by me since I was 21 years old.
180 notes · View notes
Note
My doctor says I’m ill and the only thing that’ll cure me is if you write something about Shang Tsung
Note: If you're ill, then my recommendation is simple--
Tumblr media
Another Note: KIDDING!!! Love ya lots, Mango!!!
▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂
Shang Tsung Headcanons -- A Huckster's Love
Tumblr media
》 Just a little ramble about our favorite huckster, Shang Tsung. The little meow-meow... what went from being simple to now possibly just a whole oneshot fic in the form of bullet points. 》 Notes: Gender Neutral Reader, Typical Canon, Broke Ass Hoes, Fruitier Than Fruit Cake, Mortal Kombat 1 Spoilers Ahead-- You've Been Warned 》 Word Count: 700+ ▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂
Meeting the man himself, before he became a sorcerer thanks to Damanshi's help, was rather interesting
While Liu Kang deemed that Shang Tsung would live a life of misery, to pay for the pain he had done in previous timelines, he did not consider the possibility of someone changing what he had planned
Shang would live life begging for coin, in rags, and maybe die in the streets with no coin to his name
As Shang finished his daily beatings from the local angry villagers (with pitchforks no less), you came along to drag his worn body back to the shop-- creating a sort of companionship neither one could put a name on
Before meeting Shang, you also struggled much like he did-- no family to your name, always on the run from officials and Umgadi alike
He didn't trust you at first, hesitant on your kindness from making sure he wasn't getting beat up in his sleep or continue sleeping outside
Shang did not trust you until you both agreed on a deal-- with the two of you clearly struggling, maybe there was a way to help one another
With your skills as a thief, you could steal not only high-quality materials for Shang to use for his false medicines to give them truth-- but other high value items as well such as jewelry and books
Shang would use whatever you found and give you a portion of the money he made, since you would keep some of the valuables you've found for yourself
This was your relationship for the next few years-- two people using tricks to meet end's meet
You would both wake a little before the sun rose, preparing yourselves for the day ahead
Sometimes you'd catch Shang trying to pull his long hair back into a bun, eyes examining how his hands-- covered in small cuts and bruises-- brushed loose strands back as he looked in the small mirror the makeup box offered him
Sometime's he would watch you get ready, admiring your bare back as muscles rolled and flexed while you put on your clothes for the day-- he admired your strength and tenacity, as you admired his cleverness and deceit
You both complimented and contrasted one another, almost balanced with one another as you would head out to collect more items for Shang to use or sell and he would use his charms to take money from those who would have it
Feelings for one another did not come about until things started to become... more casual with one another
The back of your hands would briefly brush up against one another more often, mumbling apologies whenever it occurred
Sometimes, though, those "accidents" would happen more often and sometimes linger, beckoning you to try another taste of his touch-- to feel his thin hand in your own
Other times came to sleep, whenever it got too cold during the night, Shang would suggest sharing the one bed to preserve warmth the best you two could
Sometimes, when your back is turned against him, you can feel the slow and steady breathing of his lungs in the state of sleep, a sign that he was alive.
Sometimes you could feel him shiver, and if he was asleep, bring him closer to you to help with the cold or was he simply faking it for attention, hmmm??? *(eyebrow raise and wiggle)*
When feelings began to become more obvious, as did the more accidents
But you both seem to understand that something was growing, something was blossoming beyond simple companionship
How to say it in words, you didn't know. Shang didn't know either.
It was something that neither one could ignore for long
So after years of it being "business" only to friends to now... whatever this was now
Everything felt right
Even though you were not rich like the kings of old, constantly remained on the move from village to village in Outworld, occasionally beaten by villagers
At the end of the day, when the moon stood high in the dark sky, pale light shining on the carriage, you two still had one another
Tending to one another's wounds, making light jokes about what happened, reminiscing about the past
The last thing you both would always see is each other's faces as you both lied down and dimmed the candle that served as light for the small room-- tired, exhausted, but happy
This was the huckster's love, before something much grander than your own home-- your own world-- intervened
254 notes · View notes
anipiece · 8 months
Text
The Volturi Kings with a human mate
Here are some thoughts I had on them.
Tumblr media
I feel like Caius would want to turn you as soon as possible. Not only because you being human makes you a liability, but also because you would be around vampires a lot. He just doesn't want his mate to get hurt or killed. Aro and Marcus would want to give thier mate some time. But they share Caius's worries, so you would never be left alone.
You're not allowed to leave the castlegrounds. There is always someone around to protect you. Either the kings themselves or one of thier most trusted guards. Guards are positioned in front of your door. No one gets to you unnoticed. But if you're unhappy, getting sad/depressed or feeling like a prisoner, they may take you out sometimes. You are thier mate not a captive, so they don't want you to feel that way. When leaving the castlegrounds you will be accompanied by at least one of the kings (and some guards).
Aro would be curious about your life. What is it like to be a human nowadays? Do you have any exes that need to be taken care of? What are your hobbies? Tell him everything. Of course he knows with a touch, but he wants you to tell him. It feels more intimate that way.
You make Marcus feel whole again. He just wants to spend time with you, it doesn't matter what you do. But he would love to read with you. If you want to, you could start a book club with him. (The others may join, but he would like to keep it between the two of you.)
Caius loves to paint you. If you paint (or draw) he'll let you use his materials. You use other materials than he does? They'll be provided and you can be sure they'll be high quality, only the best for you.
The kings support your hobbies, unless they think it's dangerous. If you have artistic or creative hobbies, like drawing, sewing, knitting, playing an instrument, writing etc. they'll get everthing you need for that. They would want to see/hear the products. If you're inspired by them (or they're your muses) they'd be ecstatic.
You will be turned, if you want to or not. But if you ask them to turn you, they would be over the moon. You would be turned by one of them (probably Aro), but all of them are with you until your transfomation is complete. Nothing will keep them away, trials have to wait, because thier mate is more important than anything else.
299 notes · View notes
hockpock · 8 months
Text
Glasses Review - Firmoo
Hello vision impaired friends, I bring you the gospel of Ordering Your Damn Glasses Online
I have previously ordered from EyeBuyDirect (luxotica/lenscrafters'/America's Best in disguise, sorry.) and Zenni Optical ( most well known online provider, A+ would recommend) and have seen lots of ads for free pairs from a competitor, Firmoo. I have too much prescription for the free pair offers to ever work out from ANY provider, but their fun designs put them on my list.
When my current glasses broke, I was dinking around and saw their current promotion is Buy One Get One Free PLUS 20% off lenses and as lenses are the real $$$ I jumped on that like tigger on crack. I am VERY nearsighted with astigmatism and the average pair of glasses from lenscrafters used to cost me $300 minimum.
After much deliberation with a million tabs open and a poll I ignored the results of for Reasons, I ordered a pair of clear frames and a pair of purple steampunk-y wireframes . Two pairs of HIGH PRESCRIPTION glasses for $87 shipped. I could cry, y'all.
Note: I have an up to date prescription and a nifty app that measures Pupillary Distance or 'PD'. you will need both these things accurate to have the best experience buying your glasses online.
I ordered them 9/22, they shipped 9/25, I received them 9/29 with regular shipping. They came well packed - each pair was in a bag made of cleaning cloth material inside a sturdy plastic case and they come in a foil bubble mailer.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Both pairs feel well made, with lots of attention to detail-
however I did not pay attention to detail or pay extra money for the Re-he-heaaallly thin lenses. So the clear ones are slightly too big and I hate the way the nose pieces sit, while the purple ones are a wee bit small across the temple and heavy to boot. I haven't had dents in my nose like this since I was 12.
the website lists their exchange policy as 30 days, the pamphlet that came with the glasses says 60. Either way it was pretty painless to go into my order history and select "exchange". The form I filled out with my reasons for dissatisfaction promised me I would be contacted within 24 hours.
My 'personal Firmoo consultant', 'Karen', emailed me with a code for the full price before discount of both pairs + standard shipping, as well as the usual customer service canned answers about checking the sizing information and did I know I could upgrade the lenses?
Also I could keep the failed pairs 'FOR NOW', here are some places that accept glasses as donations. (mixed messages, Karen, but sweet!)
New friends are April006, round anodized wireframes with a cute dingly gem thing, and Sandy020 , literal tortoiseshell cat eye frames.
This time I used the site's search terms to cut the temple width and earpiece length options down and double checked the weight of the base frames. (14g vs 24g for the round wireframes before my coke-bottle lenses. RIP my nose. )
New order was placed 10/5 and they arrived 10/17 . (last time I checked the tracking estimated arrival had creeped from the 19th up to the 23rd so grain of salt. This may be a tactic to make the order feel like it got here faster or legit delays. In my case there was a federal holiday involved.)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Complete disclosure I'm gonna grab a pair of pliers and take the little dangly off the wireframes. It makes a noise when I move my head and if I don't fold the frames in the right order when I take them off it'll scratch up the lenses. I ain't gonna remember to avoid that, so off it goes.
The Good:
Large selection, Good Quality, Good Communication. Lots of Off the Beaten Path options for internet weirdos. Firmoo p much always has a promotion going.
My wallet is so happy. SO HAPPY. Frames run $20-30ish to start. lenses will vary with your prescription and options.
If y'all want 50% off your first frames and to give me a $10 credit they have a referral program and my code is T4Z8I2. BOGO20 is a better value but it expires 11/01/23.
The Bad:
Not flexible about lens options- you go down one track and pick your options within that. If there was a way to put tinting on a pair of glasses other than blue light blocking I couldn't find it. (in contrast I believe Zenni lets you choose a range of colors and tint depth on any pair, designed as sunnies or not)
You Will Get Emails. Firmoo REALLY wants you to buy more glasses and post about it and tell your friends and HERE THIS CODE IS ONLY GOOD FOR 3 DAYS, GO BUY NEW GLASSES. They are marketing themselves to fashionable young influencers who change styles every month. Unsubscribe with impunity.
like Zenni, this is a company with the majority of it's functionality based overseas. It's cheaper because you're ordering directly from a factory and not paying Luxotica's markups to itself. Customer service is mostly English as Second Language speakers and there may be delays.
Not For Emergencies. I was able to coast on a pair of glasses from a prescription or 2 ago but it's gonna take time for your order to be made and shipped.
Overall I'm very happy with them and will probably order again.
Next time I have spare money I'm aiming at Wherelight because y'all. they are next down on the list of reputable to shady AF but they have the most amazing WTF designs.
155 notes · View notes
franciskirkland · 6 months
Text
APH South Italy/Romano Headcanons 🇮🇹
(SFW, Spamano/RomaSpa centric)
He wears a lot of jewelry, but it's classy never flashy. Several rings, one of which is engraved with an 'A' for Antonio. Usually wearing at least a solid gold chain and a crucifix.
He's very Catholic, in a uniquely Italian way (iykyk i cannot elaborate)
He smokes like a chimney, high quality cigars and cheap cigarettes. If you ask him to put it out he will blow it right at you. This is on top of heavy cologne (Versace Eros) so you can smell him from a mile away.
Certified Short King™, maybe around 5'7? I can see him with almost any sort of physique, that being said I don't think he's a twink, he at least has some wiry strength. He's lean but solidly built, maybe even has some pudge esp as he ages?
He's very warm toned. His skin is a light olive, not pale yet not quite bronze. He tans well but isn't tan all year round. Honestly he probably uses tanning beds during winter lmao
He's got a fair amount of body hair and often leaves his shirts unbuttoned to display this, intentionally or not. He's a sharp dresser when out in public, but at home he sits around in sweat stained tanks and boxers.
He loves his red wine, and apertifs. Grappa or Sambuca for something a stronger. Doesn't mind the taste of hard liquor at all. Definitely holds his alcohol better than his brother or Antonio.
Loves sailing and yachting, leisure sports. Has a bit of a gambling habit. Not to a destructive point, just in good fun.
When he's in a good mood he hums to himself and you might even catch him singing if he thinks he's alone.
Dances to Dean Martin in the kitchen with Antonio. He actually likes cooking together. Normally he'd be the type of person to hate others in his space while doing something, but Toni is an equally talented chef so he allows it.
Makes a big pot of sauce and polpette on Sundays. Italians will know. Eats wayyyy too much meat than is healthy. You can pry his salumi out of his cold dead hands.
He's sensitive and not always rational - the type to make mountains out of molehills and deflect real issues with humour. Explosive temper. Born to argue. Quick to throw insults (and hands). Just as quick to forgive and forget. If he holds a grudge you really fucked up.
If he likes you, he'll tease you and call you names. If he doesn't, he won't bother to talk to you much. He likes to fuck with people to an extent but has little patience for unnecessary conversation.
He can be extremely condescending; and to Tonio exclusively, extremely sweet. He's a smooth talker and romantic when he feels like it, laying on the pet names and sweet nothings, especially when he wants something in return.
He's honest and loyal, but generally a very private person. It's difficult to earn his trust and get on his good side but once you have it you're one of the lucky few. He's hospitable and generous and often does that for show. Loves to give meaningful and lavish gifts. If he cares about someone not only will they be spoiled in a material sense, but he'll do favors for them to make their life easier.
(note: this might be controversial re; accuracy but i don't actually have beef with his canon human name. 'lovino isn't a real name' well yes and no. it's not common or representative. but there's so much variety in italian naming that it certainly could be a first name. according to forebears there are 259 ppl named lovino on record but only 9 are in italy lol. or u could just call him ~romano~ which is a more popular human first name. i kinda like lovino, its unique.)
141 notes · View notes
bambisnc · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
OK! [or, group projects w riize]
Tumblr media
pairing : ot7 x reader! genre : fluff with crack delicately lined in cw/tw : food mention + use of caps wc : idk ,,
Tumblr media
shotaro ,. ! - the mood maker!! - is the person who Socializes, helps to coordinate between the members, makes the gc, arranges meet-ups; just overall supportive and cheerful even if your team is doing literally nothing and is very likely about to get an F (D:) - shows up w like cut fruits for everyone, goes on coffee runs + writes encouraging lil messages on sticky notes and leaves them around/in notebooks etc etc - also x2 i see him as someone who like,... doodles on your people’s hands :( draws a smol star and writes something adorably cringe like “ur my star ^-^”
eunseok ,. ! - he’s the type of guy who’d take charge and delegate work to everyone; to put it simply : BOSSY AF. dare i say dictator coded even, but hey, he just wants this to get over with yk?? - bit scary to work w at first but when if he warms up to you he might would definitely indulge in a lot of partiality; assign you the easier tasks/the tasks that you prefer + if someone pisses him off he would, w the nicest sweetest smile ever, assign them the worst possible task.. - can be bribed if you offer to help w his work though sooo :) do w that what you will :) 
sungchan ,. ! - trust on me this, he’d be the one who’s always “busy” except in his case he probably fr is bc my guy is just into That Many extra curriculars - you call him up like hey where are you we’re supposed to meet at *insert name* coffee shop rn?? and he’d answer w all seriousness that his “rap music club members have a mandatory team exercise for which they’ve gone fishing and after he needs to prepare an ad for the video game club because he kinda insulted the ad making team and now they’re all on strike . oh and he has football coaching (as in he needs to coach like a bunch of tiny kindergarteners as a favor to some aunt) right in between!” - he’ll send all his work at like 4am tho dw ^^ sleep is for the weak.
wonbin ,. ! -perfectionist!!! he would be The aesthetic stationery + supplies guy with like pouches and pouches of pretty washi tapes, metallic coloured calligraphy pens, stickers and much more - would definitely call out people if their handwriting was bad.. - also he would totally use the project as an excuse to get to know whoever he’s interested in~ might offer to split the work into like duos and immediately choose you as his partner~ - prepare yourself for a lot of really obvious and goofy flirting..
seunghan ,. ! - ah yes the wise guy (genuine) (no why does he fr know everything about Everything) - puts out the most thought provoking, viewpoint shaking, world stopping arguments then half-slumps over the table and or rests his entire weight to lean on you and mumbles something about wanting to watch shin-chan >< he’s versatile (read : cute) like that - also would quite honestly go along w any idea no matter how bad it is <3 + seems super calm and composed but watch him be the most excited when taro suggests some team bonding at an arcade/festival :( <3
sohee ,. ! - he gives me manages stuff best under high pressure situations - if you’re freaking out about one of your teammates cough cough you can guess who it was having fumbled up and accidentally written down the wrong date and oh no your project is due tomorrow?! don’t worry! he’s got this :D - procrastinator at heart but for the right persuasion tactics done by ahem a certain someone (it’s you) he’d probably give it his all <;3 - also he’s an enabler at heart.. supports the ideas which he knows are going to be a trainwreck just for funsies
anton ,. ! - :(( he is Doing His Best okay - gets a bit overwhelmed due to the rising panic and chaos + leads to people being very partial to him but honestly yk he deserves it <3 - also a rich guy tm, would definitely ahem ahem pull some strings to get some extra fine quality materials~ - feel like he’d be good at research work + another 4am worker would definitely pester you to join zoom calls or ft you and be like hey!! look at this!! i did this!! is it good!! - as an excuse to show off to yuo splurges a lot for an end of the project celebration for sure
Tumblr media
notes : inspired by very very real life events (wrote this in a zoom meet w my current group proj members ehe)! if you know me irl and feel like these are based off of you.. they're not!! you're simply hallucinating!!!! <333 + [m.list]
127 notes · View notes
rainbowsillz · 9 months
Text
✦ — The Doll Maker || TWST HC. — ✦
Tumblr media
RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS
You're a creative type? It is quite the skills you have. He didn't even realize that you were one!
It's hard for him to pretend to not be intrigued with this, since in his childhood he wasn't able to obtain them and the majority was for girls.
He is into adorable plushies! He would sneak a glance to see how ‘you’ sewed or knitted it.
Can Riddle touch them?
Trey and Cater would knowingly nudged you to let him come and stay beside you while this.
“It's not a crime to have this, and hiding away your abilities is wasteful, why did you do so?”
LEONA KINGSCHOLAR
Yawns at you.
He does not care about it.
And he wouldn't be as joyous with these.
Leona then goes back to play chess with you.
He was more invested into being on your lap.
“You made those? It looks okay, seems like you have a knack for that line of career, isn't it?”
AZUL ASHENGROTTO
That aspires him to be like you!
Lucrative business is a graspable thought.
So, won't you have ‘talk’ with him on it? You can put your faith in him, isn't it? Would you?
Azul smiled at you as he hold the stuffed animal.
Hush! Can't you sense his willingness at all?
“You will end up taking my hand. It's no use giving me that look, wouldn't you agree?”
KALIM AI-ASIM
😶 OH???
He would buy them!!
Money is not an issue, he'd sponsor you too!
Kalim will pester Jamil to have a look :)
Have a 100% materials for you.
“You are so cool, prefect! Can I hug this platypus? Do you have an eagle version?”
VIL SCHOENHEIT
It's unexpected.
In a good way..? He is curious about them.
His violet eyes followed after yours as he caressed the texture of the toys you did.
Vil supposed this was of high quality.
You were something, weren't you?
“I have to say.. it's surprising to have you focused on a mere task, almost captivating.”
IDIA SHROUD
His reaction would be super enthusiastic.
He would be inspecting them with great interest since it's handmade by you.
Will probably ask you to record a tutorial when you were piling yourself to your activities.
Idia was helpful along with Ortho.
They were both really immersed with you.
“W-wow! You're a legit pro at this, you didn't speedrun through it. That's passionate?”
MALLEUS DRACONIA
If it's from you, he'll cherish it always.
Until the end of time literally. I'm not kidding.
You should know that although he was used to being alone, he doesn't like.. like it.
You mean the universe to Malleus!
He's there for your beck and call 🥺
“What a lovely token. I shall guard it with my life. You truly are one of a kind that I've met.”
283 notes · View notes
sleepyomi · 1 year
Text
gift giving with the hq!! boys
Tumblr media
a/n: y’all we’ve reached the last first part of the love language series (giving)!!! I’m so excited to be able to start on part two of acts of service, physical touch, and quality time after this. the boys we have today are what I loving refer to as the gentle giants featuring short king daichi because they scream chivalry which makes me scream haha.
Tumblr media
ushijima —
it had started during the winter of his third year when ushijima realized just how much the cold affected you. his own schedule and conditioning was focused around him gaining strength and maintaining his health but yours wasn’t. upon realizing this, he had taken it upon himself to make sure you were well taken care of. obviously you could take care of yourself but what kind of boyfriend would he be if he didn’t make you you’re favorite tea when you were congested? or pack you a bento the mornings you had important assignments since he knew there was a chance you’d forget, and carry your preferred lotion and chapstick in his bag since he knew the cold dried out your hands and lips? a shitty one that was what. and if he occasionally kept his favorite hoodie that he knew you loved in his bag along with treats he didn’t eat no one would be able to prove it.
daichi —
with daichi you occupy a good portion of his mind, which means he can’t help but grab your favorite snacks when he swings by the convenience store on his way to picking up his younger siblings. it always puts a smile on your face anyway so why not? if he just happens to do it more often then he previously did, that’s no ones business but his own. if it happens to coincide when you have a bad day too? no one could prove it. on top of that though, when the summer comes to an end, he begins packing an extra jacket in his bag for the even slightest chance your cold, happily giving it you even knowing there is slim to no chance of him getting it back.
aone —
with aone being at the height of his high school volleyball career, it had started when he just wanted to let you know he was thinking of you. a small keychain with your favorite animal on your desk when you’d both had a busy week and couldn’t meet up. a small drawing of a turtle giving you a thumbs up on a post it note the morning you had a speech due. your favorite hoodie of his in your locker the day after you walked home together and had needed to use his. he loved being able to do small things that would make you smile and know he loved you when he wasn’t able to say it himself. the way you always texted him a selfie with the item didn’t help to deter further attempts though it did cause him to quickly lose storage in his phone.
asahi —
hand made gifts all the time. he enjoys making things for you to enjoy that he made himself so it’s like you have a token of his love with you at all times and also because it makes it obvious who made it. he always tries super hard on his gifts whether it’s something material or not. making you a lunch with his is something that he enjoys so much it has become habit and he cherishes making you scarfs, hats, and other articles of clothing as the awed smile on your face when you ask, “did you make this?” with wonder in your voice gets to him everytime. you don’t need to know that he started it back when you were both keeping your relationship a secret and he wanted to see you in his clothes, it ended up working out in the end.
Tumblr media
do not edit, claim, or repost my works as per @sleepyomi
335 notes · View notes
neverinadream · 11 months
Text
You're His Girlfriend, But You Belong To Me - Part Three
Tumblr media
Summary: Emotions run high and hearts are broken in the final chapter of yours and Christian's affair.
Pairing: Christian Pulisic x Fem!Reader // Ty (OC) x Fem!Reader
Requested: Nope
Song Inspo: Trying Not To Love You - Nickelback
Warnings: angst, themes of infidelity, heartbreak, a break up, arguing, confessions of infidelity, confessions of love, possessiveness, references of ownership, cocky!christian, violence, suggestive themes....idk if i'm missing anything
Notes: and it's....almost finished!! there is an epilogue still to be posted. i loved this little miniseries a lot, even if the theme isn't everyone's cup of tea. big thanks to @thoseboysinblue who is always there to bounce ideas off, couldn't have done it without you 🫶🏻. the flow is a little dodgy towards the end and there are parts that could've been done so much better but i've gotten too much in my own head over this, so i'm just going to give it to you how it is. what do we want to see in the future?? more miniseries like this?? thank you to all those that read it and gave me feedback on the other parts. it truly means a lot! anyway...feedback is always appreciated!
"Hi. Hello."
Hushed voices are reduced to silence as you appear in front of the microphone, fixing the skirt of the sage-coloured dress that had been trying to kill you all day. The material was soft to the touch and it helped to ease the anxiety riddling your veins, and it didn't matter how many times Ty told you how beautiful you looked, the deadly contraption had to go. The bodice was too tight on your chest, crushing the air from your lungs, and the length of the skirt was too long on your legs, even when wearing your heels. Your mother called it karma for not being there in person when your older sister was making the preparations for her wedding like the rest of her bridesmaids were.
"Wow, there's a lot of you here today," you nervously laughed, pinching at your dress and rubbing the material between your thumb and finger as you looked out at the ocean of guests before you. They were friends and family, but you still didn't recognise nearly half of them. The ones you did recognise didn't look at you with blank expressions, and when you found Christian sitting with the rest of his family, a wave of comfort washed over you as he gave you a subtle smile over the rim of his champagne flute. "For those who don't know me, I am Carrie's little sister," you introduce yourself, "and much like the family dog, I like long walks on the beach, constant attention, and taking naps after I've eaten too much food." You try not to smile as your opening line leaves a few of the guests laughing. "Or, perhaps that's Carrie," you pull a face of confusion, "we've gone our whole lives being mixed up with each other, that even I'm beginning to mix us up."
You glance over at your sister, your hand gently holding onto the top of the microphone, as your other hand curls around the stand. "I'm not sure what Carrie knew what she was getting herself into when she asked me to give a speech today. I'm not a comedian like our older brother, so I can't make you all laugh until your sides hurt, and I'm no poet like our father, so please put your tissues and handkerchiefs back in your pockets, but what I can do is list all of Carrie's amazing qualities that will make her the greatest wife of all time." You release the microphone and reach into your bodice, pulling out a folded napkin you had hidden before your turn. "So," you clear your throat, unfolding the blank napkin, "Carrie is...she..." Guests laugh as you squint at the napkin, pulling it closer to your face. "Hmm," you fold the napkin back up and stuff it into your dress, "I guess I won't be doing that then."
"As kids, we hated each other, and I think that was because of our two very contrasting personalities. Carrie was a loud-mouthed, bitchy psychopath, and I was just perfect, but as we got older, Carrie was like a fucking rockstar to me. I wanted to be just like her. I wanted to dip my toes into every pond that she jumped into. I wanted to be able to craft the perfect lie to our parents, only for it to all fall apart at the very last second. Our parents told my sister that she could not go to any senior prom after parties and like the crafty genius Carrie was, she told our parents that she was stuck in traffic for three whole hours. And she would've got away with it if our next door neighbour hadn't found her upside down in his hedge."
You smile up at your sister as you turn to her again, who was already dabbing her eyes with a napkin. "Carrie became my metaphorical flight attendant, always there to warn me that life will come with turbulence, but that I should never panic because life will always have a way of working itself out. When I was given the opportunity to move out of the country, Carrie was the first person who told me to grasp it with both hands and never let it go. She'll be your biggest supporter..." Your voice cracks and she blows a kiss in your direction, which only makes it easier for the tears to escape. "...even when you're making questionable decisions, and I am entirely grateful to have you as my big sister."
"Now, Daveed," you address your brother-in-law, giggling as he hides his face behind a napkin, "when I first met you, I was confused." He laughs louder than the rest of the guests, a laugh so infectious it has you laughing along with him. "I was confused because I couldn't understand how someone could be so selfless and loving as you are, without there being some other ulterior motives. But meeting Carrie was the best decision you have ever made. Before you, Carrie was like that one troll who lived under a bridge in every fairytale you read as a kid. She had a heart as cold as ice when it came to love, and I honestly believed she would grow old with seventy cats. But your ever-giant loving heart has transformed her into the beautiful princess you see sitting before you today. But, you know what they say if you can't handle her at her worst, then you don't deserve to her at her best, and I don't think there is anyone more deserving of Carrie's love and terrible cooking than you, Daveed. It's been such an honour and joy to welcome you into our circus of freaks, and I'm happy that we didn't scare you off."
"So, I'll leave you with this: when I think about the greatest love stories of all time, I used to think of Paris and Helen of Troy, a love so great it started a war, but now I can only think of yours." You reach to retrieve your champagne, raising the glass into the air, signaling others to copy. "So, if you could kindly join me in raising a toast to the happy couple," your eyes flick over to Christian, another flood of warmth spilling through you as the subtle smile before now reached his eyes, before guiltily panning your eyes over to Ty as you say, "may we all have a love story as great as theirs."
———————
"Cute speech-"
"Don't tease me-"
"I'm not..." Christian breaks your bickering with a harsh sigh. "I wasn't teasing you. I was being nice." You raise your eyebrows and make a sound that was somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. "I can be nice," he rolls his eyes, backing you against the gazebo, the old stone cold and rough against your skin. He dips his lips against your neck, trailing open-mouthed kisses against your warm skin. "I can be really nice," he chuckles, biting down and sucking on your collarbone.
"Christian, don't!" You groan, but your warning was futile. He pulls back to inspect his art and you wince as he grazes his finger over the bruise. You push him away and cover the spot with your hand; there was no lie big enough to cover this one up. Not from Ty. And especially not from your family. You hadn't let Ty do more than kiss your cheek in the presence of them all weekend. "Why do you always have to do that?"
"Because I like to mark the things that belong to me."
"I'm not yours," you bite back, but the possessive tone in his voice floods your belly with heat.
"Yes, you are." Your fingers fist tightly into his ear as he presses his mouth against your neck and grazes his tongue against it. "Say it," he demands to hear the words that now made his heart stutter. His hands skimmed up your arms, over your shoulders, and cradled the sides of your neck, tipping your head back as he pulled away to look at you. There was an emotion in his eyes that you couldn't read, a strange mix of hunger and longing. "Tell me you're mine."
"No."
He frowns, chasing your lips as you turn your head. "Come on, say it."
"You say it," you counter, the words coming out more like a plea. Just once, you wanted to hear him say it, even if you knew he didn't mean it. You were too far deep into this mess that even a lie would make you happy. "Say you're mine," you bring his mouth closer to yours, "please, say it."
He hesitates and whispers, "I'm...not yours." Your heart cracks. Of course, he wasn't going to say it. He only wanted you for the thrill of sleeping with another's girlfriend, you knew he would never want you for your heart.
"We should go back inside," you cast your eyes off to the side. He whispers something about not being finished with you yet, but you find the strength to push him away. "Chris, if someone comes to look for me-"
He silences you with a scoff. "And by someone you mean Mr. Boring?"
"Leave him alone."
"He's pathetic, Y/N, when are you going to see that?" He snaps back at you, his face only inches from yours. You press your back further into the wall of the gazebo, trying to create some space between you. "That whole good guy act he performs for everybody?" He pulls a face of disgust. "He's got your parents wrapped around his little finger with that one."
"It's not an act!" You reply through gritted teeth. Though you didn't love Ty anymore, you still felt obligated to stick up for him. "He is a good guy, Christian, but you wouldn't know that because you have never taken the time to get to know him! Perhaps you should've, maybe then you would've seen what it looks like to have heart."
Your words make him take a step back. "I have a heart," he dismisses your claim.
You take a step forward and press your finger against the centre of his chest. "This?" He winces as you jab your finger harder against his chest. "This is empty! Barren! Incapable of feeling any emotion!"
He bats your hand away. "Before you start accusing me of anything, sweetheart, perhaps you should take a long hard look in the mirror," he counters, his voice laced with bitterness, "remember, I'm not the one fucking another guy behind my boyfriend's back." He watches your mouth open and close, swallowing your breath as your eyes widen. "What's the matter, baby?" He mocks. "Don't you like being reminded of the truth?"
Behind, standing only a few feet away, Ty looked on at the two of you, the colour draining from his cheeks until he was no whiter than the shirt he wore. When you hadn't returned from your room, Ty had gotten worried, but when there was no sign of you in your hotel room and someone had mentioned seeing you going outside, he wasn't prepared to see you and Christian together. He had just heard the end when you had clocked him approaching.
"Ty," you whisper his name, bottom lip trembling as the first cracks in your perfectly constructed lie begin to show.
He looks between you and Christian, his eyes landing on your collarbone as you step around the obstacle between you. For a moment there's a flicker of anger, but it sizzles away and morphs into pain. That hickey was an answer to a question he didn't even need to ask. A question he didn't want to ask.
"Ty, this isn't-"
"Please, don't," he held up his hand to stop you, "please don't be one of those people who try to say it isn't what I think it is. I heard him, Y/N, I heard what he said." You bite your lip and nod your head, deciding not to inflict any further damage. What use was there in lying to him anymore? "I guess I should've known something was off between us when we stopped having sex," Ty sniffles, fighting back tears, "something like that just doesn't stop without there being a reason."
Christian sniggered from behind you. "I can promise you she was well cared for." Ty glanced over at him, making it known that he had heard him but pulled his attention back to you. "Wow! Really?" He lets out a surprised laugh. "I just told you I'm fucking your girlfriend and you don't even react." He takes a step forward and firmly presses his body against yours. His hand sits on your hip, pinning you to the spot on which you stood. It was like he was saying I won to Ty without really ever really saying it. "You know, whilst you were tucked into bed last night, I was tucked into her-"
"That's enough!"
"No, no, no, no," Christian tuts, shaking his head, "Ty has to know the truth."
"I've heard enough."
He looks up at Ty. "You sure?" He gives him the biggest grin he can muster up. One that could've earned him a hard blow to the face if Ty had been anyone else. "Don't you want me to remind you of what it feels like to have her lips wrapped around your cock? Or describe the sound she makes when she cums?"
Ty ignores him and fishes something from the inside pocket of his blazer. "I thought you were my forever, but I guess we were on different pages," he steps forward and presses something small into the palm of your hand, "give this back to Nelly for me." You look down into your hand, your heart shattering when you recognise the dainty piece of silver to be your grandmother's ring. It was a thin band of silver with a small emerald gem passed down from mother to daughter. The perfect ring, you had once told Ty after he spotted it in a photograph of you and your grandmother. "I don't think I'll be needing it anymore, do you?"
The ring disappears into the palm of your hand as you fold your fingers into a tight fist. It symbolised everything you wanted out of life: true happiness and everlasting love. So as you held it against your chest, you foolishly believed that if you held it there for long enough, it might mend the fractured pieces of your heart. And as you looked up to say one last goodbye to the kindest man who woke up every day with nothing but love in his heart, you discovered he was already gone. You could just see his silhouette disappearing back into the ballroom.
Christian had just caught a glimpse of the silver band over your shoulder. Seeing the dainty piece of metal had left him with a sour taste in his mouth, and knowing it had been temporarily in Ty's possession set a new kind of anger coursing through his veins, making his skin hot as it boiled his blood. "Why did you tell him about Nelly's ring?" He asked, seeking the truth to a matter that shouldn't have taken precedence over the giant tears streaming down your cheeks. "What did he do to deserve to know about Nelly's ring?"
"He loved me," you choke on your sobs, "and maybe you don't recall it, but there was a time when I loved him."
"You never loved him," he dismisses another one of your claims.
"Do not think for a second that you claim to know the names that I hold dear to my heart!" You glance over your shoulder and see no sympathy in his golden eyes. You were broken, and yet here he stood, all intact. He didn't care. "I loved him," you repeat yourself, "and he loved me."
Christian leaned back against the gazebo, ignoring the strange pang of guilt in his chest. "Yeah," he casts his eyes down at his shirt, fixing one of the buttons, as he says, "but then you slept with me, and I opened your eyes to a new world of possibilities." Your face twists with a sour expression. "Oh, come on, don't look at me like that," he chuckles dryly, "I just saved you from a boring marriage and your inevitable-" The rest of his words are knocked from his mouth as you drag your hand across his face, connecting your palm to his cheek with a loud slap.
"Y/N!?" Someone shouts your name, but you don't look back to see who.
Instead, you stumble away from Christian, the same hand you had slapped him with now covering your mouth. "Shit!" It's muffled by your hand, but your wide eyes connect with his even bigger eyes, and you are both stunned into silence. You couldn't believe it. "I-I..." You bring both hands over your mouth, shaking your head. "I'm so sorry," you repeat like a broken record as fresh tears break from your eyes, "I-I didn't mean to do that."
Christian rubs his hand against his cheek and moves his head away from Kelley, who had been the voice shouting at you only moments ago. She had stepped outside to catch a few minutes of air, becoming a witness to the fallout of the disaster that was unfolding around you.
Kelley looks between the two of you. On one side, she has her son, his cheek red with the imprint of your hand, and on the other, she has a shadow of your former self. She takes a deep breath and turns to you first, offering a sympathetic smile as she asks, "Y/N, sweetie, what's going on?"
Growing up, Kelley had been like a second mother to you. You had lost count of the times she had patched up your knees after you had scraped them from falling over. Christian was forever on the move, and you just wanted to keep up with him. It didn't matter how fast he got as the two of you got older, you were there running behind him, and Kelley was behind you with a band-aid in her hand. So, any other time you might have opened up to her, but you couldn't force yourself to tell her.
You look past her and at Christian. "I'm sorry," you mouth your apology.
"Just..." He lets out a sigh, watching you slip away, the end of the dress bunched in your hands so you wouldn't trip over it as you made your sudden escape. "Just let her go, Mom," Christian mumbles, the stinging in his cheek subsiding, making it easier for him to move his jaw. He knew deep down he deserved that slap. If his goading hadn't done enough to provoke a reaction from Ty, he should've guessed that it might've come from you instead. He casts his eyes down at the ground as he straightens up. "I don't want to talk about it-"
"You don't get a choice," Kelley stops him. There was a sternness to her voice that made him shiver. It was the kind she saved only for when she was disappointed in him. "Well?" He finally looks up but quickly looks away again when he isn't met with the usual warmth of her eyes. "Start talking, Christian, before I go and ask the poor girl myself."
"She and Ty broke up," he raises his shoulder on one side.
She raised her eyebrows, sensing there was more he wasn't telling her. "She slapped you because Ty and her broke up?"
"No, Mom, she slapped me because I asked her to," he replies, stuffing one hand into his pocket. At any other time, he would've been on the receiving end of a look of disapproval for using sarcasm against her, but Kelley just sighed. "Ty," he thinks carefully about his words, wanting to tell her the truth without admitting his own sins, "Ty found out she was sleeping with someone behind his back."
Kelley blinked twice. You were having an affair? The very same girl who was too afraid to get in trouble at school? The girl who did everything to keep her grades above a B? The one everyone said had a heart of gold? She didn't believe it. There was no way you could've done something as heartless as this. "An affair?" She shakes her head. "I don't believe you. Not Y/N."
He scrunches his face. "Why, because she's so perfect?" He rolls his eyes at the ground. "Not everyone is as perfect as you might think, Mom, not even me."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Really?" He looks in her direction, greeted by a look of mixed emotions on her face. He didn't want to insult her intelligence, but it only took the smallest amount of common sense to figure out what possible role he had to play in all of this. "Doesn't a part of you wonder why I was out here? How I came to be the only other person to see it happen?"
As the pieces of the puzzle slowly clicked together, she could only show her disappointment in her eyes and through the way she spoke. "Christian..."
"What, Mom? What?" He takes a step back, removing himself from her path. His heart was racing rapidly in his chest, the blood pumping hard and thick in his ears. The air around him felt thicker like it was trying to suffocate him. "What do you want me to say?" He loosened his tie, pulling on the knot until he felt like he could breathe again. What was happening to me? He thought to himself, wiping his sweaty palm down his thigh. "That I regret it because I don't."
"How can you say that?" She asks, bewildered by his reaction. "How do you not regret what you've done? You've destroyed a relationship, Christian!"
"It wasn't just me, Mom; she destroyed it too!" He pulls his tie off, wrapping the slim black piece of material around his fingers. "I...She..." The tips of his fingers slowly change colour as he tightens his tie. "Maybe it would be different if she loved the guy, but she didn't. She's just another liar." He sighs, glancing up at the roof of the gazebo. "We both are."
"Do you love her?"
Yes.
"Love her?" He unravels the tie before it cuts the circulation to his fingers and switches to wrapping it around the other. He scoffs to hide the quiver in his voice. "Why would I love her?"
"Because I can't think of a good reason for why you could do something so stupid, Christian," she scolds him, lifting her hand into the air like she was signalling an end to their conversation. She couldn't bare to hear him talk this way anymore. This wasn't the boy she had raised. "If any part of you loves that girl-"
"I don't."
I do.
She holds his head firmly in her hands, keeping his eyes on hers. In his eyes, she sees the truth. She sees the fear. She sees it all. "Just shut up and listen," he gulps down a large breath of air, subtly nodding his head, "if any part of you loves that girl, then you need to fix this."
"I can't fix it," he chews his bottom lip, "she won't believe me."
"You won't know unless you try," she offers a watery smile, "if you don't fix this, then you'll lose her for good, and that's when you'll finally regret it." She wipes away a tear he didn't even know was there. "Go," she encourages him, "before it's too late."
———————
All traces of Ty had been removed from your room when you returned. A note saying, "I'm sorry I wasn't enough," was all that was left for you to find. It brought a fresh wave of tears crashing down your cheeks, and through watery eyes, you tore yourself out of your dress and packed your bag. You could apologise to your sister later, maybe even tell her the truth and risk her judging you for your heartless mistakes, but right now, you had to leave.
Pulling on the zip, you close your bag and set it down at the foot of your bed. You ignored the first knock as you checked the contents of your second bag, checking to make sure you had packed the things you would need the most, like your passport. You couldn't run away without it. But the second and then the third knock became harder to ignore, and the courage you had built up in the process of getting ready to leave crumbled when you opened the door to find Christian standing on the other side.
"Whatever you're doing, don't do it." There's no apology, no simple hello, just another demand to do something that he wanted. You take a step back, and he mistakes it for an invitation to come inside. He walks by the foot of your bed, and the thought of you sharing it with Ty tightens his chest. "Stay," he says, his words almost sounding like a plea.
"I can't stay-'
"Yes, you can!" He talks over you, trying to force his side of the argument. "You and Ty are over, so what?" You gasp at his insensitivity. "Why should that mean we have to stop having fun?"
"Fun?" You repeat back to him. The pain simmering in the pit of your stomach forces your voice to crack. "It was 'fun' for the first few times it happened, but then it just became something you could torture me with." The corners of your eyes grow wet with new tears. "As soon as you knew that there was a chance that I had developed an attachment to you, you twisted it to your own advantage. You knew I would never say no to you, but here I am, finally telling you no."
"I can't let you go," he whispers, shaking his head in disbelief.
You chew your bottom lip. The only way you could move on from this is if you let him go. "You have to," you sniffle, wiping your eyes. He wasn't worth anymore of your tears.
"But I...But I..." He tries to force the truth, but his throat grows dry, and only a strangled cry of frustration makes its way out. "I don't want this to be over for us. I thought you loved me?"
"I do," your heart shatters as his eyes fill with tears, and you have to force yourself into not moving, "I love you more than you could ever know, but I can't love a guy who doesn't love me back. My heart is damaged, Chris, and I don't know what state you'll leave it in when you've decided it's time to move on. I have accepted that you will never love me! I have accepted that there will be no happy ending for us! That our love story is a tragedy Shakespeare wishes he could've penned. So, please, do the honourable thing and let me go!"
"I can't."
"Why?"
"Because I love you!" He snaps, with every ounce of emotion bursting out of his chest, shouting his confession across the room. The features on his face soften. His puffy eyes swell with giant tears. His bottom lip trembles. "I love you," he repeats, and you're stunned into silence. His voice cracks and fresh tears wet his cheeks, no longer having the strength to fight them back. "I've tried my hardest not to love you. I have slept with other women to make myself forget about you, but they are not you. Their skin doesn't feel as soft as yours. They don't taste as sweet as you. They are not the angel whose name my very soul calls for! Their names are not tattooed on the inner walls of my heart!"
He draws his hands against the centre of his chest, digging his fingers into his flesh like he was trying to rip his heart from the cage it was once locked inside. "Do you not see how I am scared to let my heart win?" He hopelessly cries out, tasting the saltiness of his tears as they land on his lips, "I am scared because I already know that I have the power to harm you." He takes a step back, dropping his arms either side. "I have harmed you." His voice is laced with guilt. "I have broken your heart time and time again, and yet you stand here and tell me you still love me? How? Why?"
You shrug your shoulders. "Maybe this is how love is supposed to be."
"I don't know much about love, but I know it's never meant to be this cruel," he replies, disagreeing with you, "you love a monster, Y/N."
"A monster?" You scoff and he nods. "If you are a monster then what does that make me, Christian? All you did was sleep with another man's girlfriend. I lied to him. I took advantage of him. For nearly two years, I made him believe that I loved him. Two years! Two fucking years!" You force yourself to laugh, but it's empty and lacks any genuine emotion. "My heart must either be as black as charcoal or as cold as ice to be capable enough of doing that to someone whose heart is filled with nothing but pure love."
Through the crack in the opened window, you could hear the muffled sound of laughter and cheers. A pang of guilt settles in your chest knowing that you had missed your sister's first dance and the cutting of the cake. You had missed the chaos of your baby cousins running around, high on sugar, and your parents' terrible dancing. You had missed jokes and the opportunities to create new memories. You had missed it all just so you could try and find a solution to the destruction that you were to blame for.
You suck in a deep breath. "I was just going to leave, you know," you tell him the truth, nudging your foot against the side of your bag, "get a cab to the airport and get the first flight available to, I don't know, Greece or Italy. Filling myself up with good food and flooding my veins with multiple bottles of good wine seemed like the better idea. I was going to run away from it all: from the heartbreak, from Ty, from my family-"
"From me," Christian mumbles, with fresh tears in his eyes. You blink back tears as you nod your head, confirming his suspicion. For a split second, he smiles, but it's lopped-sided and sad. He sniffles and wipes his cheeks. "What do we do now?"
"I don't know," you shrug, "what do you want to do?"
"Right now, I just want to kiss you."
A bubble of hope formed in his chest as he watched your face crumple. The look of pain in your eyes slowly became one of affection, making his blood buzz with nerves. He could've closed the distance between you, sweep you up into his arms and kiss you like he had never kissed anyone before, but he didn't. He stared at you, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath, and waited for you to give him a sign.
You knew you might one day regret this.
"So kiss me."
Without hesitation, he closes the gap between you, fisting his hand in the back of your hair, and grabbing your hip in the other to pull you towards him. Both of you sink into each other as his mouth worked yours. His kisses were needy and demanding like he was starving for you, and the groan he let out as his tongue moved against yours left every nerve ending in your body ablaze with burning pleasure. He tasted you again and again until both of you were breathless and your head was spinning.
"I'm sorry," he apologises between kisses, murmuring it against your lips, "before this, before us, you were happy with Ty, but I was a selfish bastard and I tried to have something that wasn't mine. I ruined your chance at true happiness, so I understand if you can't forgive me." His hand that had been fisted in your hair lowered to your face, cradling your cheek, as he brushed the tip of his nose against yours. He wanted to remember this moment, in case it was his last. "I just need you to know that I am sorry for every bit of pain that I have caused you."
"You're right," you hum, looping your arms around his neck, "in the beginning, I was happy, but I was just...happy enough." He makes a humming sound as you massage your fingers against the base of his neck. You study the flecks of amber in his eyes, picturing a version of your life where you could wake up to them every morning, whispering, "but I was always at my happiest when I was with you."
"Me?"
You let out a surprised laugh and step further into his space. His mouth is so close to yours, only inches away, and with one finger, you trace it along his bottom lip. His eyes fall shut at your touch and you listen to the hum he makes with a small smile. Tonight you had gotten to see a whole new side to him, one that was softer and not afraid to be vulnerable with his feelings. A side to him you had only ever dreamt about.
"Do you really love me?" You ask, with your lips hovering below his.
"Yes," he answers, hooking his fingers under your chin, pulling your mouth against his, and kissing you soft and slow. He smiles against you as he runs his hand down the front of your body, his fingers brushing gently over your breast. "Why don't you let me show you how much I love you?" He talks against your mouth, pressing his hand firmly against your body, caressing you through your top. His lips trail open-mouthed kisses along your neck, following the path he had created earlier.
You press your hand against his shoulder and push him away. "Not tonight," you tell him, seeing the worry in his eyes, "I believe, even if I shouldn't." Removing his hand from your chest, you bring the inside of his wrist against your lips. The soft kiss against his skin makes his heart stutter. "But I don't want us to have sex tonight."
"No sex, okay," he nods, pecking your lips, "then what do you want?"
"I want room service, one of those crappy romantic comedies you like," you giggle as he mumbles under his breath about them not being 'crappy,' "and to fall asleep with my head on your chest, if that's okay with you?"
He cradles your face and brushes his thumb along your cheek. "And then tomorrow we're going to Italy."
"Italy?"
"Yes," he hums, skimming his thumb along your smile, "you said you wanted to run away, so let's do it together." He brings you closer and whispers, "I love you," before kissing you.
———————
Taglist: @shanoontje @maseandkepa @theblxefox @blueathens  @ofxinnocence @mrschilly @geek-and-proud @in-my-body-bag @laurasstufff1 @mountchilly @spicysainz @greykitkepa @thoseboysinblue @kickinganddriving @lizzypotter14 @bracedes @chelseagirl98 @notsoattractivearenti @swimmingismywholelife @lovelynikol16 @masonsrem @masonspulisic
190 notes · View notes
merakiui · 1 year
Note
how would the housewardens react to walking in on you pleasuring yourself??
Riddle walks in, hardly spares you a glance for more than a second, before he's swiftly turning on his heel and slamming the door shut behind him. He immediately apologizes for intruding without knocking and his face is the brightest shade of red. He doesn't know what else to say, so he awkwardly leaves it at that. But you're all he can think about for the rest of the day.
Leona leans against the door frame so casually, his features alight with cocky pride. He won't say anything, merely admiring the pretty view, but when you notice him he'll smirk at you and tell you to keep going. Don't let him stop you. Unless you'd prefer if he helps you. :) if that's the case, he might as well show you how it's done. Since you let him use your lap as a pillow before, he supposes he can let you ride him. After all, the real thing is so much better than cheap silicone.
Azul opens the door, sees you, and promptly shuts it. He has to mentally reset himself after seeing a sight he has only witnessed in delusions and dreams. He can't look foolish. He has to be casual about this. He has to look suave. He opens the door again and there's the faintest hint of blush on his face and his voice is higher than it normally is, but he tries so hard to be smooth when he asks if you need a hand. Or two. Or three. He has ten at his disposal. Azul doesn't think you'll agree to this, let alone sign a contract, but he still tries because it can't hurt to do so when he's caught you in a vulnerable state. And depending on your answer, you might just surprise him.
Kalim thinks you look so cute when your face is twisted in pleasure, and he'll verbalize every praise that comes to his mind. You shouldn't be so embarrassed. There's nothing wrong with pleasuring yourself! And he wants to join you! Let him have some fun with you; he promises it'll feel good if it's with him. After all, it's so lonely doing things solo. Kalim is also the type to see what toys you use, if any, and will offer to buy you the best of the best. You shouldn't have to use cheap toys that are prone to breaking. Let him spoil you with the best, most high-quality products. <3 it's what you deserve!
Vil is pleasantly surprised. Of course he knew you were beautiful both inside and outside, but there's a certain level of intimate beauty in viewing you from the doorway while you're so wrapped up in ecstasy, oblivious to his arrival. As tempting as you look, it's unbecoming to leer and Vil is always one for mannerly conduct. He will shut the door and be on his way if you haven't noticed him, but if you do he will apologize for interrupting and offer to leave without another word. But if you ask him to stay, how can he possibly say no?
Idia never leaves his room, so he's probably watching you through the secret cameras scattered throughout Ramshackle Dorm. Or perhaps you're aware of their existence and want to give him a little show. :) in any case, it has Idia choking on his energy drink because this is a first. He's only ever observed you studying in the lounge or sleeping in your bed or playing games with your friends or marathoning movies. So this is a new sight and he definitely isn't complaining. He'll record the entire thing for his own enjoyment and for later reference when he needs new material to masturbate to.
Malleus often visits without warning, so it really shouldn't be so surprising to see him in the window. Although this is the first time he's happened upon you while you were busy with your own private affairs. Malleus doesn't find it embarrassing; rather, he thinks you look so very darling on your bed, practically glowing in the moonlight. There's nothing to fret over; nudity isn't something you should be so flustered by. After all, he thinks you look so perfect with and without clothes on. Malleus is so unintentionally smooth and genuine in his approach. He'll leave if you really wish it, but he has no problem staying to keep you company in more ways than one so long as you're okay with it.
282 notes · View notes