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#one would be take the area that was going to be bookshelves and make it a game area
sykosugu · 3 days
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subject to change | choso kamo
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summary: in which you are a fairly inexperienced romance author and Choso is a bookstore owner who happens to be a big fan.
wc: 12.6k
pairing: choso kamo x fem!reader
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warnings: porn w/ plot, smut, angst, hurt/comfort, bdsm dynamics, impact play, breath play, spit play, cum play, anal, anal creampie, p in v, facefucking, mild shibari, bondage, use of sir, degradation, edging, spanking, choking, toy usage (vibrator, butt plug), overstimulation, (there's a lot, buckle up) if I missed anything pls let me know!
carlile speaks: hi again, loves! this is another story I wrote for Harry but felt the itch to change it around a bit to fit for one of our jjk daddies. choso just so happened to be my guinea pig for this one. I sincerely hope you all enjoy! this was originally two parts but I made it just one this time around!
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“Hey, Jenny!” Your voice echoed through the phone. Your publicist had a habit of calling when you were trying to get your daily rough drafting and editing done. Currently you’re staring at a manuscript of the follow up to your latest release, still unsure what to name it. 
“Y/N, I’m glad I caught you! I had something come up for you to start the press tour for your newest release!” Jenny excitedly squeals through the phone. Her tone makes you peel the phone away from your ear for a split second. You glance over to your right to look at the book in question. “Little Freak” was your latest release. Another smutty romance novel full of things you’d never actually experienced; only dreamed about. You were experienced enough, but always craved more. But your books were a hit and people were snatching them up left and right.
“A press tour? I’ve never done anything like that.” You respond, balancing the phone between your cheek and shoulder, tapping away at your computer. 
“I know, but it’s a signing! At this local shop downtown.” She explains, “The owner says they’d love to host in exchange for the publicity.”
“A signing?” you question. Never did you think a signing would be an event you’d have. ”People want to meet me?” 
“Oh yeah, girl. Loads of people.” She chuckles. “Do you know how many people have sent you fan mail saying you gave them a sexual awakening with your books? So many people want to meet you.” Her response makes you physically laugh. 
“Wow, I'm just writing about fantasies I have.” you chuckle, “But I’m so glad people are finding themselves.” 
“But about this signing!” She continues. “It’s booked for next weekend, but I’ll be going this weekend to meet with the owner and talk about the setup. You can be there if you want or you can just leave that to me.” She continues rambling about anything and everything pertaining to the signing. Ending the call she gives you the address and you tell her you’d meet her there on saturday. 
You loathed taking public transportation, and requesting a car for a short trip seemed pointless to you. So hoofing it, it was. Weaving your way through the city sidewalk, you’d located the shop rather easily. You were shocked you’d never heard of this place before. You’d been through here many times.
“Y/N, over here!” You hear Jenny yell from the corner of the store. It was really nice. Big floor to ceiling windows. Full mahogany bookshelves lining the walls and aisles. A giant seating area with plush chairs, couches and bean bags. A coffee and tea bar near the windows. String lights hang from the exposed rafters. The aroma of the store wafting scents of natural wood, patchouli and vanilla. There’s plants everywhere. The cash register tucked in the corner with a “Owners Picks” section right in front. Cho’s Place in big red bubble letters on the wall. 
Your eyes just scan everywhere before they fall on Jenny, standing next to a man. A man with light brown eyes, dark chestnut tufts, and a smile plastered on his face.
“I can’t believe this place has been hiding here,” you state, walking towards her and the man. “Hi, I’m Y/N,” you’re holding your hand out to him. He eyes you before slipping his hand in yours and giving you a delicate shake. Your skin heats up at his touch.
“Choso. Choso Kamo. S’nice to meet you,” he claims, “I haven’t opened yet. Your signing will be my grand opening.” He states, letting your hand go. What was that?
“That explains why I’ve never seen it before. It’s beautiful in here,” you gesture all around. “It’s so cozy.” Why do you want him to touch you again?
“That was the vision when I was planning everything. When I heard your team was looking for a place to host a signing, I knew it would be perfect for a grand opening as well.” Keep talking.
“You’ve heard of me?” you ask in disbelief with your eyebrow raised. He’s looking at you as if he’s ready to eat you alive. Please do.
“I’m quite a big fan, actually.” he chuckles, “I’ve read all of your releases so far. But, we can discuss that after. Jenny, do show us what your plan is.” He says, leading you both over to the seating area.
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After your sit down meeting with Choso and Jenny, Jenny says she’s heading back to the office to send out the email to your team with the plan. Choso asked you if you’d stay to continue your conversation from earlier and go over more specifics, to which you happily obliged although you felt a tinge of nervousness once you were left alone with him.
You eye him as he prepares some tea for the both of you, getting a really good look this time. Glancing at the furrow in his eyebrows as he focuses on the task at hand. The fabric of his white dress shirt pulled taught across his shoulders as he moves around the space; the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The skin you can see is littered with black ink. The way the veins in his arms start to give you unholy thoughts about how they’d feel wrapped around your neck– 
“You’ll have to forgive my shortness earlier, I’m not used to men telling me they’re a fan of my work,” you chuckle, trying to steer your thoughts in a different direction.
“Ah, not to worry.​​​ It takes more than that to offend me,” he says, walking back to the couch you’re settled on; tea cups in hand. “But, indeed I am a huge fan,” he hands you one of the cups as he takes a seat on the other end of the couch. “I believe the first book of yours I read was Lingering Smoke,” he ponders for a moment, “Or no, it actually was Whipped & Chained,” his recall of your titles make you squirm.
“T-those are my two most popular titles,” you start to speak, praying he didn’t notice the way he made you stutter. He did. You clear your throat before continuing, “but my latest release is wiping the floor with both of those at this rate,” you say, regaining your composure. He offers you a smile. A salacious smile.
“I’m not surprised,” he says, eyeing the pink tinge on your cheeks, “I have read them all though,” he says, shifting his seating position on the couch to now fully face you, “they often give me,” his gaze boring into yours, “ideas,” he’s lifting his tea cup to his lips. You swear you feel a chill down your spine.
“Ideas?” you question, your eyes searching his. Are they darker?
“Ideas.” He affirms. “You should know though. You write about them.” He chuckles.
“I mean, I guess,” you shrug your shoulders, “I’m just writing fantasies I have,” you laugh, but he doesn’t.
“Fantasies? You mean you’ve never done those things? Felt those things?” He asks in disbelief.
You shake your head with a light laugh. “I seriously find that so hard to believe.”
“Please, my college boyfriend could never,” you chuckle, setting your tea cup on the coffee table. “I just drum up some ideas–as you so call them–and put it into a story. Nothing special.” He stares at you in disbelief again. 
“I jus–wow. I honestly expected you to be super well versed in those aspects. Pardon my assumption,” he says, holding his hands up.
“I mean, I guess it’s a pretty fair assumption, so no offense taken. Apparently I’ve given people sexual awakenings according to Jenny,” you laugh making him laugh this time. 
The awkward tension seems to dissipate with the shared laughter, but a different tension seems to linger. He seems so stone-like; like he only has one goal; and that goal is you. Truth be told, you’d happily oblige.
“Would you like to?” He asks, repositioning himself on the couch again, slightly closer to you.
“Like to?” you’re feigning ignorance. You know what he wants, but you're playing dumb.
“Experience those things.” He leans his arm over the back of the couch, taking in the obvious look of desire in your eyes.
“I mean, sure. Who wouldn’t?” You snort, looking over to him but he’s just staring at you. “Oh, you mean like, with you?” you ask slowly, still playing dumb.
He smiles that smile again, “Sure, why not?” He asks. “I’m game if you are.”
“Choso. Do you hear how crazy that sounds? We’ve known each other for half an hour.”
“So? We don’t have to see each other after. I don’t really do ‘feelings’ anyways.” he’s gesturing air quotes around feelings, his tone rather repulsed sounding. “This could be a one time thing. You get to experience some of the things you’ve written about, and I get my rocks off. A win/win situation if you ask me.” He says, gathering the tea cups and sauntering back over to the coffee station. 
“You sound so romantic, Choso,” you chuckle. Maybe this wouldn’t be a terrible idea. The last hookup you had was less than thrilling. And here you have a very attractive man offering exactly what you’ve been looking for. Regardless if it’s for one night, you’re willing to try.
“Interested?” He asks, leaning against the counter behind him.
“Sure. Why not,” You respond, mimicking his words back to him.
You make a mutual agreement to meet up and converse every day over the next week to discuss specifics, what each other's limits are—Choso all but told you he had none—and to remind you that this was all about you and what you wanted to experience. He gave you homework of coming up with what exactly you wanted. Your mind races as you think about what you’d want to experience first. There are so many options! 
He adored the look of mixed emotions on your face; the excitement, the apprehension. The enthusiasm in your voice but also the way you shied away when he asked you to list what you wanted, and how you wanted it. The way you sit on the couch in his bookstore with your legs crossed as you look down at the notebook in your lap. Ever the author; making a rough draft of these taboo acts you want this near stranger to do to you. Choso may not make it out of this alive if you keep looking at him with those eyes.
After your signing is when he’d bring your fantasies to life.
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The spare key to his apartment was burning a hole in your hand as you made your way down the hall. You stood in front of the door a moment, contemplating one last time if this was what you wanted. He reminded you before you left the bookstore that there was no pressure. He would understand if he got home and you weren’t there. But you’re certain you want this. If nothing, you’ll get more fuel for your writing.
Once inside, you set his key on the counter before making your way to his bedroom so you could prepare for his arrival. Nerves are sneaking up on you but they’re overtaken by sheer excitement once you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror on the wall on the opposite side of his bed. You begin to undress, watching yourself in the mirror as you pull your dress down your shoulders, revealing the dark red lingerie set you wore for the occasion.
The sound of his front door opening causes your breath to catch in your throat. Finding your spot near the bed, your hands find the tops of your thighs as you kneel on the floor in anticipation of his arrival; eyes cast down like he directed. His footsteps draw closer, causing the butterflies to stir awake inside your gut. The bedroom door opens, but you keep your gaze down. The tops of his shoes come into your vision. “Eyes up.”
Your head snaps up in response, eyes meeting his dark gaze. That salacious grin being the star of the show. “Hmm,” he starts, sliding his thumb across your cheek as he takes hold of your chin, “Already so obedient,” he clicks his tongue, “I like that.” The mild praise makes you grin.
His free hand slides down to fumble with his belt buckle, the sound of the metal clinking together sending shockwaves straight between your legs. You feel the leather being slung around your neck and he sinches the sides together, tightening around your throat. 
Your breath hitches.
“Open,” he says. Your tongue immediately lulled out as you open your mouth, aiming to please him. You groan as a warm stream of spit falls onto your tongue and two of his fingers press down to smear it around the surface. “So pretty like this.”
A whimper escapes you in response.
“Do you remember your safewords?” You nod. “And what are you supposed to do if you’re unable to speak?” Reaching up, you tap his thigh three times. “What about if your wrists are bound?” You snap your fingers before resting your hand against your thigh again. Gurgling sounds fall from your lips as his fingers run over the back of your tongue. “Good girl,” he pushes a little further, “That’s a good girl,” he says as his fingers make their way down your throat, brushing against your gag reflex, causing you to gag slightly. “Ooh, a little training is needed I see,” he mocks.
Your core is on fire and he’s barely touched you. A few dirty words and his fingers in your throat and you’re ready to roll over and bark like a dog, Nevermind the fact that his belt is around your neck like a leash. 
Whimpers leave you at his chastisement, making him grin. Spit rolls down your chin; your hands reach up instinctively to grip the front of his thighs. “No touching,” he reminds you, making you timidly retract them. “Do I need to restrict your hands already?” You try to shake your head in his hold to say no, causing the belt to tighten. 
That was one of the only rules he gave you. “No touching, no kissing, and you have to ask me permission to cum.”
Tears burn in the seams of your eyes as he continues his exploration of the inside of your mouth; fingers prodigy at your gag reflex again. You cough and gag but he presses on just a little further until he feels you instinctively pull your head back. Choso withdraws his fingers as he watches you cough and heave. “Don’t know how you’re gonna take my cock, sweets,” he mocks you again, “you’re already a crying mess from two fingers.”
His words make you audibly groan. You want more. You need more. “Need it, sir,” you smile up at him. 
“I know, pup,” he’s cradling your face. He taps your cheek with those same two fingers, telling you to open again. “You’ll get it,” he spits on your tongue once more, “Now, remember to breathe through your nose this time,” he says before he slides his fingers back in your mouth.
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Your ankles are secured to the posts of his headboard; wrists hooked to the leather belt around your waist, and your head hangs over the edge of his bed. Choso’s hands roam your upper body, groping your breasts and pinching your perked nipples. His cock sliding in and out of your throat at an agonizingly slow speed; savoring the feeling of your tongue gliding along the underside of his shaft. “Fuck, sweets,” he groans. A hand sliding up to lightly grip the sides of your neck, “haah, feel that?” he asks, squeezing the sides where your throat bulges, “feel me deep in your throat?”
Drool pours from the sides of your lips; the wet squelching sounds of his cock gliding in and out of your throat is like music to his ears. “This what you wanted?” he asks, pulling himself from your mouth, tapping his length on your lips. You writhe before him, trying to catch your breath. He rubs the tip of his cock over the apple of your cheek, smearing the drool and precum across the surface. “Asked you a question, pet,” he says, giving an open-palmed smack to your right breast, making you yelp.
“Y-yes, sir,” you breathe out, “T-this is what I w-wanted.” You wish you could clench your thighs together to feel some kind of friction. His condescending tone has a rush of arousal pooling between your legs.
“Yeah?” he mocks, “Wanted your throat fucked like some cheap whore?” He slides back in your mouth. A whimper escapes your lips as he reaches the back of your throat. Steadying your breathing through your nose, you focused on the task at hand; keeping your tongue flat and your cheeks hollow. You’re squeezing your fists together, creating crescent shaped indents on your palms. It’s like you can already feel him everywhere. You can’t wait to actually feel him everywhere. “Just wanted me to have my way with you?” he slides one hand down between your legs and swipes two of his fingers through your folds, “Such a dirty girl. So wet for me already,” your hips involuntarily buck at the contact with your neglected core, making him chuckle before shoving your hips back down onto the bed.
“Hold it,” he demands as he stills his hips with the tip of his cock nestled in the back of your throat. Five. Ten. The seconds tick by as he tests your breath holding ability. Fifteen. Twenty. You flex your hands before clasping them back shut; Choso keeping a close eye on them lest you need to perform a safeword act. Twenty five. Thirty. “Good,” he commends as he pulls out and you struggle to catch your breath. “Very good, Pup,” he taps your cheek with his fingertips.
Choso maneuvers himself around the bed, grabbing the spool of rope on the floor before moving to settle on his knees between your legs. He frees your left ankle before taking hold of your hips and pulling you towards him, letting your head rest on the mattress. “How’re you feeling up there?” he asks, smoothing his hands up your legs, over your hips and tummy, stopping and rubbing slow circles. 
“G-good, s-sir” you stammer out, still breathing deeply; flexing your hands to get the feeling back in them. You feel his hands grip under your knee, lifting your leg into a bend; foot flat on the mattress.
“Yeah?” he smirks, “What’s your color?” He grabs the spool of rope to his right, beginning to wrap the rope around your bent leg in a frog tie; the back of your calf is flush with the back of your thigh, forcing your leg to remain bent and open.
“Green,” rushes out before you even think about what he asked, you just want more.
Choso smiles at your response, finishing up the last bit on the knots. He runs the tips of his fingers over the rope before lifting himself on his knees to lean over you. “Good,” he smirks. Leaning forward, he braces his weight on one hand near your head. “Well just look at you,” he mocks. Your mascara is running, the lipstick you wore is smeared, and half dried patches of spit and precum litter your skin.
His other hand reaches up to lightly grip the sides of your face, turning your head from side to side in his hold as he really studies his handiwork. “Seems I’ve turned you into a little throat slut, huh?” His degrading words send shockwaves to your cunt. “But, let's see what else your holes are capable of,” He says with a firm smack to your cheek, causing your head to jerk to the left and a masochistic smile to form on your lips.  Choso slides off the bed before appearing above you again, a blindfold in hand. 
Your vision has been taken from you as well as your mobility. He has you exactly where he wants you; pliant and ready for him.
Choso settles between your legs again; teasing touches linger up your legs towards where you want him most. You feel two fingers spread your folds apart. “Hmm, such a wet little pussy. Were you feeling neglected down here while I was fucking your face?” he teases. You whimper in response, making him grin. Ghosting his fingertips over your sensitive bundle of nerves, he slides two of his fingers between your folds before dipping them inside and curving them upwards. A strangled moan falls from your lips. “Let me hear you,” he’s scissoring his fingers in and out of you, “Let me hear how good I’m making you feel.”
“G-god, sir. S-so good,” you whimper. “N-need more, please,” your skin begins to heat up; spreading across the surface. Chills follow; goosebumps littering the surface
“Oh, I’ll give you more,” he chuckles at you, bringing his free hand down in a firm smack on your clit, making you jolt. Reaching to his left, he picks up a wand vibrator, sets it against your clit and turns it on the lowest setting; gradually turning it higher in tandem with his fingers. He’s working you up to the peak of the mountain, steadily keeping you on your toes.
“Please, please, please, can i cum, sir?”
“No,” he’s retracting his fingers and the wand as he watches you whine and writhe before him.
“Hnng, sir, please,” you beg him. “Put it back, please,” Tears begin brimming in your eyes at the loss of stimulation.
“Silence,” he slaps down on your clit again making you yelp. “You cum when I say you can,” his tone firm, “Do you not remember that part of our conversations?” his hand comes down on the bundle again. Warm tears start dampening the blindfold held against your face. You nod your head. Smack. Again. “Words,” he prompts.
“I-I r-remember, Sir,” your voice wobbly, “I’m s-sorry,”
“I’ll bet you are. Don’t worry though, I’ll make sure it sticks in your empty little head,” another smack follows.
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He’s got you on your knees now, left leg still frog tied and the other reattached to the bedpost, your back in a full arch. Your hands are stretched above your head; wrists tied together with leftover rope. His hands are anchored to your hips as he drives his cock in and out of your cunt. “Sh-shit,” he grunts, “this pussy feels so good; sucking me in like there’s no tomorrow,” One of his hands glides down to tickle the bottom of your foot, causing you to jolt and squirm in his hold. He grins at your attempt to escape the sensations.
“Hnngh, sir,” you groan, turning your head against the sheets. “Feels. So. Fucking. Good,” each word sounding pointed with each thrust of his hips. Your body is addicted to the dopamine rush; still holding on to the feeling of every orgasm he ripped from you with the vibrator before he decided you were ready for his cock. But not before he nestled a dark red, heart shaped plug into your ass to prep for later. You feel so deliriously full with both holes being stretched. 
Choso reaches up, gathering your hair in one of his hands before tugging you up to be flush with his front, keeping up the pace of his hips.
“Know it does, pet,” he switches his hold, gripping the front of your throat with one hand as he slides the other one down between your legs to rub fast circles on your clit. “Can feel you clenching down on me like a damn vice,” His grip tightens on your throat, his fingers speed up as you turn into a crying mess from his touch..
“G-gna cum,” you stammer,  “P-please, let me cum, s-sir,” 
“Cum,” he stills his hips against your ass, but continues his ministrations against your clit causing you to convulse against him’ your abdomen contracting with each wave of pleasure.
“S’too much, sir” you cry out, “Please! Too much!” you wiggle in his grasp. He squeezes the sides of your throat a little tighter as a warning.
“You know what to say to get me to stop,” he reminds you, continuing to massage the abused bundle. 
You choke out a whine in response, your body trembling with red hot pleasure. He knew you didn’t want him to stop. You knew what words to use to get him to slow down.
“Dirty girl. You’ll take anything I give you, huh?” he chastises you, his words scratch an itch in your brain and send you into a second orgasm. He continues to pull delicious sounds from you; all the sounds he’s become obsessed with. Tossing you back down onto the bed, he braces himself on either side of your head as he begins to piston his hips into you, fucking you into the mattress and siphoning every ounce of your orgasm he can out of you. “Such a good little slut, creaming all over this cock.”
His hips begin to slow as you come down and he runs one of his hands down the expanse of your back, before pushing and pulling on the plug.
“Oh, f-fuck, sir. That feels s-so go–ood,” your voice muffled by the comforter. “W-want you in my ass, sir. Please,” you say, turning your face against the mattress so he could hear you.
“Yeah? Wanna feel me stretch that tiny ass open?” he starts to pull on the plug, your hips jerk in reaction.
“Mhm, need it.” you mewl. “Please, sir,”
“I’ll give it to you, pet, don’t worry,” he says as he slowly pulls himself out of you. Choso stands from the bed before pulling you towards him. Maneuvering you to lay on your side with your back and butt facing him as he stands behind you. He smooths one hand up your side, groping your breasts, sliding further along to grip your chin. “Open,” he commands, just like earlier. Opening your mouth, you invite two fingers inside. “Suck.” You happily oblige; wrapping your tongue around his appendages. His other hand reaches down between you to grasp the edges of the plug as he eases it out, toying with you in the process. 
You whine at the empty feeling, but you’re too focused on his fingers in your mouth to really care. Feeling his free hand swipe between your cheeks, he pushes a finger inside, eliciting a gasp from your lips. He takes the opportunity to push his fingers further into your mouth and add a second finger into your ass; slowly pumping the two fingers in and out of the tight ring of muscles. Groans fall from you at the strange intrusion; but you’re craving more.
“M-more,” you moan, voice strained from his fingers pressing on your tongue.
“Didn’t anyone teach you not to speak with your mouth full?” He sneers at you, retracting his fingers from your mouth before colliding his fingertips with your cheek.
You smile.
“S-sorry, sir. Feels s–so good. N-need more,” you’re pushing your hips back against the thrust of his fingers.
“Are you a little anal whore now too?” He chastises, but adds a third finger anyways, stretching you as best he can. 
“Mhm,” you whine. “Want your cock. Please, sir.” 
“Yeah, know you do,” he says as he withdraws his fingers slowly. He spits in his hand and wraps his fingers around the head of his cock, smearing the spit over the tip. He aligns himself with your tighter hole before beginning the tight press inside. “Just breathe,”
“Ngh, fuck,” you groan as he slowly inches inside. “Sh–shit,” your body tenses at the intrusion. It hurts so good. The stretch. The fill. Your head is spinning. More. More. More! 
“Mm, such a tight ass. Pulling me in so good,” he continues his shallow thrusts, easing his way inside until he’s fully sheathed. “T-there, we go.”
You’d never been comfortable enough to go beyond a plug in your ass with previous partners. Perhaps knowing you won’t see Choso after is what made you so feral for it this time around. You can’t describe the level of fullness you feel right now. His hands are gripped on your hip, thumbs digging into the supple flesh as he pulls you back to meet each thrust of his hips.
“S-sir,” you whisper out to him, your voice gone hoarse from screaming out in pleasure.
“What, pet?” he squeezes your hip, “you need something?”
“C-can you touch m-me, please?”
“This still isn’t enough for you? Such a greedy girl,” he brings his hand firmly down on your ass. Bringing his hand back, he lifts your leg from behind, tucking two fingers into your cunt; curling them to prod at that spot. 
“Oh, f–uck y-es, right– right there, sir,” your sobs of pleasure are going straight to his cock. “Pl-please, please don’t stop.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says with a smug grin etched onto his lips. “You want more?”
“Y-yes, please! Please, sir, more!” You aren’t sure what more he could give you but you’ll take whatever it is. You feel his fingers leave your cunt and his hips come to a halt against your ass. The sound of the wand vibrator coming to life fills your ears. He presses it against your sensitive clit, then tucks the end of the wand under the rope around your leg; keeping it firmly in place. You cry at the sensation. His fingers enter your pussy again, eliciting an animalistic like moan from your throat. “Oh–hngh–oh my god, sir, holy fuck.”
“That’s it,” he smacks down on your hip with his free hand, “Such a dirty little whore, just wants all of her holes filled like the girls she writes about in her dirty books.”
Your whimpers fill the air along with the sounds of sticky, squelching flesh and Choso’s grunts. You’ve never felt so full and empty at the same time in your life. The only thing you’re able to focus on is how good he’s making you feel. He’s kept true to his word; this was all about you and what you wanted. Every fantasy you told him over the week you met up with him at his book store, he brought to life. All of your senses are on fire, but all you can think about is how badly you want to cum.
“Sir, g’na cum! Please let me cum!” you scream. His fingers continue their assault on your g-spot, as he reaches down with his free hand to switch the vibrator to its highest setting before taking a firm grip on your throat and squeezing; sending you over the peak.
“Cum for me,” he demands, pulling the most intense orgasm you’ve ever felt in your life from you. A wet feeling forms between your legs and you hear Choso groan behind you. “Ohh, there’s a good girl. C’mon and keep squirting all over me, sweets,” his praises go straight between your legs as more moans and pleas escape from your throat. His fingers work overtime in your pussy; pulling every ounce of your arousal from you. The incessant buzzing of the wand on your clit puts stars in your vision and the feeling of his cock pounding in and out of your ass is the cherry on top. A second wave rushes over your senses, your body convulsing against Choso’s. “There she is,” he coos, “such a good, dirty girl.”
Choso eases his fingers from your core, and switches the wand off before untangling it from the rope and tosses it to the side. He grips your hip again with both hands as he pistons himself in and out of you, finally chasing his own orgasm. “Sh–shit, pet. Gonna cum. Where do you want it?” he pants out, digging his thumbs into the plush of your ass cheek.
“Pl–please cum in my ass, sir. Want it so bad,” you whine out, “Need it, please sir!”
“Calm down, gonna give you what you want, sweets.” His hips begin to stutter, grunts and groans fall from his lips along with cries of your name. He pushes in as far as he can as he empties himself into you–”Fuck, just like that, pet. S-so good”–before retracting his hips and pressing in again; fucking his release back into you. 
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“So, was that everything you wanted?” Choso asked as he unties the knots that were keeping your leg bent. You’re lying flat on the mattress, a warm washcloth in your hand as you wipe your face.
“Mhm, and then some,” you smile at him.
“Yeah? Happy to be of service,” he chuckles, beginning to help stretch and massage the muscles in your leg. You wince at the feeling of his fingers kneading the more tender areas. His calloused hands rub and dig the knots left behind. “I’ll take that,” he says, holding his hand out for the washcloth. He rubs it over your sensitive areas, not pressing too hard; really taking his time cleaning up his mess. “I’m going to run you a bath, and make you something to eat,” he stands from the bed, tossing the washcloth into the hamper before disappearing into the bathroom. 
Your thoughts begin to take you hostage as he fiddles around in the bathroom. You’d just let basically a total stranger do unspeakable acts to you, and now you’re about to take a bath in his tub. He’s being sweet to you now, making sure you’re comfortable. But that doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t want to see you after today. 
Upon his return, he catches himself smiling at your naked form laying across his bed. Clearing his throat, he strides over to you and extends his hand. “Upsie daisy, sweets,” he chuckles at the pained look on your face after you take his hand and stand at full height. “How do those legs feel?” he teases.
“Shut up,” you stick your tongue out at him, “I just went through a lot,” you laugh with him.
“Indeed you did,” he smiles sweetly at you. A completely different kind of smile than he’d ever given you before. When he looked at you at the bookstore, it was like a hunter eyeing his prey. Now he’s looking at you as if you’re the reason the sun rises and sets every day. You’re trying really hard not to think too hard into it. 
“He’s just being nice after figuratively beating the shit out of me,” you think to yourself. 
“Are you going to get in with me?” you ask once you reach the edge of the tub. Your big doe eyes looking up at him so sweetly as the words leave your lips. He’d never done something like that before. He doesn’t do the sweet stuff. But with the way you’re looking at him now, how could he say no?
“D-do you want me to?” he asks quietly. 
You nod softly in response, “If I only get one night with you, I’d like to make the most of it,” you turn to step into the tub.
Choso’s heart pangs in his chest. He nods slowly and swallows the lump in his throat. Leaning forward, you allow him enough room to slip in behind you before you lean back against his chest. His arms warily make their way around your body as he pulls you back as close to him as possible. 
“Did you enjoy yourself?” leaves you before you can even think about it.
“You’re asking if I had a good time making you bend and break at my will? Yeah I think I did,” he says, making you laugh. 
“Hey, I just wanted to make sure,” you say tilting your head to the side to look up at him. “I had a great time by the way.” you chuckle before turning back around.
“I’m glad. You did a great job,” He picks up the fresh washcloth he’d gotten for you, and dunks it in the water. “May I?” he asks, gesturing towards you.
“Sure,” you whisper, your cheeks turning a soft pink at the praise. He rubs the washcloth over the expanse of your chest and tummy, up your arms and down your legs, really taking his time helping you feel relaxed. “Thank you, Choso. For today.” you feel yourself lean into his hold.
“My pleasure, Y/N," he smiles against your temple.
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“You sure you have everything?” Choso asks as he helps you put your jacket on, pulling your hair from underneath for you.
“I had everything the last three times you asked,” you giggle at him, the sound is like music to his ears. He’d do anything to hear it for just a little bit longer. He said he could do just one night. He swore he could. But why does the thought of you walking out his door make him feel like his chest is going to cave in?
“Just want to be sure,” He smiles that soft smile at you again, making your cheeks heat up. 
How dare he.
“Please, stop looking at me like that,” you whisper, unable to hide your discomfort anymore.
“How am I looking at you?” his voice quiet and sad.
“L-Like you actually care about me.” tears collect in your waterline, “You said so yourself, this was a one time thing. So, please, just stop looking at me like that. It’s very confusing.” The words poured out of you before you could stop them. He just stares at you with sad eyes. “T-Thank you again, Choso. I really appreciate your help.” You say, your voice shaking as you avoid eye contact. He’s studying your face; The hurt etched across your features. The same hurt he felt in his chest, but refused to show. “Good luck with your store,” you say as you pull the door shut behind you, leaving him in the silence of his empty apartment.
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Choso did care. He cared a lot. But he knew you were angry and he let you go. It was the best option. At least that’s what he told himself. He would just live the rest of his life with this empty feeling in his chest. He’d live with the pain of constantly having to see your name when his customers would buy your books. He’d smile and continue to recommend your books to people looking for something ‘extra spicy’ as they’d put it. They’d always come back in a few days to get another one of your books.
He never did take your titles off of his Owner’s Picks shelf.
Sometimes Choso swore he could hear your giggles at the front of his store when he was helping a customer find something near the back. “Excuse me, just one second,” he’d mutter to the customer before hastily making his way up front to be met with nobody. He thought he was losing it. He knows he heard it. He wishes he’d heard it. He’d make his way back to the customer, breathing out some excuse and getting back to finding the book they were looking for.
You even haunted him in his dreams. He could feel the way your skin dipped and curved as he ran his hands over the sweat slicked skin. Feel the way your warm walls engulfed his length; sinking further and further under your spell. Hear the way you cried his honorific and begged him to let you cum; begged for more, Until the blaring of his alarm would snap him back to reality and he’d be left to take care of what dream you left behind.
It’d been six months of this constant brooding attitude he’d have whenever he thought of you. Choso hadn’t been able to sleep with anybody else. Just finding solace in fucking his fist, and wishing it was you. Oh but he tried though. A few women at the bar, or a pretty customer he thought looked like you. But they weren’t you, were they? He’d gotten drunk off of the way your body felt under his touch, and it’s like he’s been hungover ever since. Often he found himself looking at your social media, scrolling through all the pretty pictures you’d post. Pictures of your apartment, your cat, your family. Pictures with Brody? Who was Brody? Pictures with your friends. He’d take note of all the cities you’d been to since he saw you.
Oh, a new post.
You were apparently going to be about an hour away from him next week.
Interesting.
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Every city you traveled to, there were more and more people waiting to meet you. You couldn’t believe it. Flattered doesn’t even begin to describe what you felt. So many stories of how you saved people's relationships after they read your books. Their sex lives with their partners had been so boring but after they’d read your books, they’d found new inspiration to spice things up. Every time someone told you a new story you were dumbfounded. Still finding it so hard to believe that anybody even found your books interesting, let alone liked them enough to take time out of their day to come and meet you and have you sign their book.
You’d tried to move on from Choso. A few casual hook ups, and a short term boyfriend, Brody, that lasted all of two and a half months. Said boyfriend looked at you like you had two heads when you asked him to choke you during sex so you weren’t sure why you thought it would last. 
You would find yourself daydreaming; frothing at the mouth thinking of all the dirty things Choso had done to you. You’d grip the front of your sink in the morning, head hanging near your chest while you thought about Choso’s cock splitting you open; his fingertips colliding with your cheek while he called you his dirty little slut, all while Brody was in the shower, a wave of guilt washing over you for imagining these things while your boyfriend was two feet away from you. Oh, how you wished you could experience those things again. 
You were right though, you’d gotten plenty of fuel for your next book. The follow up to Little Freak was scheduled to be released at the end of the year, just in time for holiday sales. Jenny was thrilled. You thought you would be. But you just felt empty. You always felt worse when you’d snap out of it, staring at yourself in the mirror with annoyance for yourself written all over your face.
“You look sick, babe. You alright?” Brody would ask, stepping out of the shower. “You look a little flushed,” The back of his hand coming in contact with your forehead. He was super sweet after all. 
“Yeah, yeah. I’m good. Just warm in here from the steam,” you’d wave him off, pressing a kiss to his lips and offering him a smile.
Brody broke it off with you last week saying he couldn't give you what you wanted. You knew that, but didn't have the heart to break it to him first. He seemed a little fragile, if you know what I mean. So you pretended to be sad until he left your apartment and then you had a laugh before making a post announcing the next city for your signing tour.
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Jenny booked you a hotel, even though the bookstore you were going to be at was only about an hour away. But riding back in the car for an hour sounded pretty awful so you didn’t put up a fight. 
The owner of this store was so excited for your event. She walked up and down the line thanking everyone for showing up, and reminded all of them of the snacks and refreshments she’d set out. She was a doll, continuously asking if you needed anything. Always giving you a smile and a “Just holler at me if you need anything, dear!”
About an hour in, a pair of eyes caught your attention. You’d know those eyes anywhere. He was about four people behind the person you were talking to. Standing there, book in hand with that sweet smile on his face. His light brown eyes bore into yours. Your breath caught in your throat, your face turned pink and your hands immediately felt clammy. The person in front of you snaps you out of your trance and you direct your attention back to them, acting as if nothing happened. 
“This book literally brought life back to my relationship. We had no idea what we were missing out on!” She exclaimed, “My husband sends his thanks as well,” she giggles out.
“I’m so glad you guys enjoyed it. Hopefully you’ll like the next one too. Thank you so much for coming!” You hand the book back to her with a smile. She thanks you and is on her way. The next few people are the same. It never got old though; hearing how your books positively impacted others. Whether they found out they liked something they never heard of, or if it gave them the courage to spice up their love lives. 
Choso studied you as you interacted with your readers. How genuinely happy you looked to be talking to these people. The smile on your face that he’d only seen in his dreams over the last six months. The crinkle you got near your eyes when you laughed. That giggle. He was addicted. He needed to hear it every day. He’d do anything. That’s why he’s standing here right now in front of you with your book in his hand. 
“Hi,” he says softly.
“Hi,” you say back to him. “What are you doing here?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” he hands the book over to you, a shit eating grin on his face.
“Cut the crap, Choso. What are you doing here?” taking the book, you scrawl your signature on the cover page.
“Can we talk?” he looks at you with pleading eyes. You glance up at him, holding the book back out to him. 
“I don’t know, Choso,” looking away, you fumble with the permanent marker between your fingers. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Please, sweets. Just wanna talk,” He smiles down at you. Meeting his eyes again, your gaze hardens. There’s no way he just wants to talk. You’re not totally stupid, but you’ll humor him.
“Fine. Just to talk,” you wave your hand in the air, “Just wait in the seating area.”
He smiles at you again. “Thank you.”
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Walking into your hotel room with Choso in tow, you wonder just how stupid you are. What are you doing? Is this smart? Probably not. Do you care? Also probably not.
“What are you actually doing here, Choso,” you ask, sitting on the end of the bed to take your shoes off.
“Would you believe me if I said I wanted to see you?” his voice was quiet and smooth, nothing like it was in the bookstore earlier. He’s standing there with his hands in his pockets as he watches you.
“Not even a little bit,” you scoffed with a laugh, tossing your shoes to the side before leaning back on your hands.
“Well, it’s the truth.” His gaze remained unwavering. 
You were born at night, but not last night.
“You’re such a liar,” you laugh, “You’re going to stand there and tell me that you drove an hour just to see me?” 
“I missed you.” he breathes out. You just stare at him with widened eyes, and he stares right back. Emerald eyes, rather sunken and tired looking, just keep staring back at you.
“How dare you,” you stand from the edge of the bed, finger pointed into his chest. His eyes widen at your demeanor. “You don’t get to do that. You said this was a one time thing. You told me multiple times that it was a one time thing.” You continue walking towards him, him taking a step back with every forward step you take. “So, what exactly do you want, Choso? You came all the way here just to tell me you missed me? When was it you who put that rule in place?” His back hits your hotel room door. “Am i just a good fuck you can’t get out of your head or what?”
“N-no, you’re,” he pauses, “you’re everything. And I’m just an idiot who can’t talk about his feelings.”
“Please, you told me yourself that you don’t do ‘feelings’. So do me a favor and tell me what it is you really want.”
“I want you,” he says softly, looking at your lips. Not even an ounce of hesitation floods his system when he reaches out with both hands to cup your face, and finally presses his lips to yours for the first time. You gasp, but kiss him back anyways; Your hands finding a soft grip on his wrists. It’s everything. The way his soft lips perfectly mold with yours. All of the built up emotions he’d been shoving down the last half a year showed themselves in that kiss. He bore his soul to you in that kiss. His tongue swipes at your lower lip, but that’s when you pull away.
“No, Choso,” you rush out, “Y-you’re too late,” you pull his hands from your face, and start to turn away when he grabs ahold of your upper arm, spinning you back towards him.
“Oh, don’t give me that shit,” he bites out, tone no longer soft. “I saw the look on your face when you noticed I was there tonight.” 
“I-I have a boyfriend,” you lie, thinking you could use Brody as an escape route. Sure, he broke up with you about a week ago but Choso doesn’t need to know that. “You’re too late, Choso.” He studies you for a moment. The tremble in your upper lip from fighting off a grin. The telling glint in your eyes. The way you won’t look him in the eye.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a terrible liar?” Both of his hands grip your arms as he slowly walks you backwards.
“I’m n-not lying. I have a boyfriend. His name is Brody.” You almost stumble over your own feet, but his grip on your arms keeps you standing. Ah, Chase.
“Right,” he mocks you, “and does ‘Brody’ make you tremble and break like I did?” He leans down near your ear. “Does he make you beg and cry for it like I did? Does he make you cum so hard you see stars like I did? Hm?” His warm breath tickles the skin of your throat. Choso sweeps your hair away from your neck before latching his teeth onto your pulse point, making you gasp. You feel your legs bump against the edge of the bed, your fists take hold of his sweater to keep you standing.
“Choso, I can’t,” you groan. You want to; more than anything, but you won’t give him the satisfaction. He grins against your skin, swiping his tongue over the bite mark he left behind. 
“Your body says otherwise, sweets,” he says, bringing his face to be level with yours, “Tell me to stop,” he slips a hand under your skirt, teasing his fingertips along your inner thigh. Your breath is caught in your throat. “C’mon, tell me to stop,” he plucks the hem of your underwear right near where you want him most. His lips finding your skin again; featherlight kisses being pressed up and down the column of your throat. You tilt your head back to give him more room.
“H-Choso, please,” you whine, your hands reach up to grasp the nape of his neck.
“Please what?” he whispers against your throat, biting down again, eliciting a groan from your lips. 
“P-please, t-touch me.”
“Thought you said you had a boyfriend?” He grins, tilting your chin down to look into your eyes. The hand that’s been under your skirt takes hold of the front of your panties and pulls you forward, making you lose your footing and sending you backwards onto the bed. Choso presses one knee onto the mattress, fingers still holding your panties, as he leans over you.
“T-that’s su–subject to change,”  you try to pull him down by the nape of his neck to kiss him again, but he doesn’t budge, one arm anchored near your head.
Instead, with a flick of his wrist he’s pulling your panties down your legs. Bringing them up to eye level, he smirks at the wet patch evident on the front of them.
“Is it now?” His salacious eyes look at you from above. You nod in response, making Choso chuckle. “So, are you going to admit that you were lying to me?” He tosses your panties to the side before bracing his other arm on the other side of you.
You shake your head, a mischievous smile forming on your pouty lips. You run your hands under his sweater up his torso, relishing in the warm feeling under your fingertips. He never let you touch him last time, but he wasn’t about to stop you now. He’d die a happy man after knowing what your skin felt like against his. The way your body reacted to every little touch he offered. Sure, he felt you last time, but not like this.
“You’re just going to make it worse for yourself, sweets,” Choso grins down at you.
“Maybe that’s what I want,” your hands stop their exploration and cup the sides of his face, your thumbs rubbing over his cheekbones. “I did have a boyfriend, but he wasn’t you,” you whisper.
“Such a naughty girl,” He leans down to kiss you, your hold moving up and tangling in his curls. You moan into his mouth when you feel the tips of his fingers come in contact with your cunt; he takes the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth, exploring every nook and cranny he could find before he pulls away, chuckling at your blown out pupils. “Did Brody take care of you like I did?”
“N-no,” a whine leaves you at the loss of contact, “He wouldn’t even choke me,” you pull him back down to your mouth, hooking your right leg around his waist to bring his weight on top of yours.
He pulls away—“Sounds like a pussy”—before kissing you once again. Lips moving in sync; your whines and whimpers being stolen from you by the greedy man above you. His fingers finally make contact with where you need him most; dipping two inside your warmth to prod at the spongy spot that makes your eyes roll back.
“Haah, you have—ff—fuck, r-right there—no idea.” Your skin already feels like it’s on fire. Your body reacts to his every touch; craving more and more at every turn. Choso would give you anything you wanted if you’d asked for it.
“Mm, you probably feel so needy right now, huh?” he chuckles, bringing his free hand up to firmly grasp your throat. The mischievous glint forming in your eyes again, his favorite smile etched onto your lips. He finally put your favorite necklace back in its rightful place. 
“Uhuh, please. Need you so bad,” His thumb begins rubbing slow circles on your clit; your teeth take hold of your bottom lip as you look at him with blown out eyes, silently begging for more. 
“Yeah?” He’s enthralled by your eagerness. The most genuine smile he’s ever been able to muster forms on his lips. You’ve successfully turned this man into mush without even trying. He’d burn the whole world down for you if it meant you’d look at him like that. “Gonna let me take care of you?” 
You nod. 
“Forever this time?” he’s searching your eyes for any ounce of hesitation. Every feeling he ever felt for you shined bright in the emerald orbs before you.
You smile. 
Big.
“Y-yes, Sir,” leaves your lips in the form of a salacious whisper.
“I can be Sir any other time, I just want to be Choso for you right now, sweets,” he retracts his hand from between your legs, bringing it to face level. His eyes never leave yours as he swipes his tongue over his fingers, licking up every ounce of your arousal; his other hand never leaving your throat, rubbing his thumb over your pulse point. Your mouth waters at the sight. He’s so dirty; and you love it. 
You nod frantically in his hold. “Cho-Choso please,” you’re not sure what you’re asking for, you just want him.
“Gonna give you what you want–what you need–baby,” he presses a chaste kiss to your lips before taking a hold of your hip with his free hand and flipping the two of you over so you were straddling his waist. Sliding his hand that’s around your throat to the nape of your neck to kiss you deeply. He sits up with you, bringing his hands down to the hem of your shirt, sliding his warm hands over the expanse of your hips, trailing up to grope your breasts; his lips still moving perfectly in sync with yours. “C-can i take this off?”
“Please,” a whine leaves your lips. Your arms raise up as he slides your shirt over your head, tossing it to the side. He eyes your chest; placing kisses all over. Reaching behind you, unclasping your bra as it finds the same fate as your shirt. His mouth latches on to your left breast, rolling his tongue over the perked bud. You throw your head back, arms draped around his neck as you grind your bare cunt into his very evident bulge; reveling in the friction against your clit.
“If you keep doing that, I’m going to lose my shit,” he growls, taking your other breast into his mouth.
“Do your worst,” you whisper into his ear, sliding your hands under his sweater, pulling it over his head to join the other pieces of clothing on the floor. You stand from his lap before he’s able to react. Slipping your fingers into the waistband of your skirt, you shimmy it down your hips and thighs, giving him a little show. He watches on with lustful eyes. 
He reaches for his belt, pulling it from the loops of his jeans. “You gonna tie me up again, Choso? Hm?” you tease him, opening the button of his jeans.
“No, baby. Wanna feel your hands all over me this time,” he tosses the belt to the side, standing from the bed, he cups the sides of your face, pulling you to him once again. Your hands still working his zipper, pushing his jeans down.
“Then allow me,” you whisper. Reaching to pull his hands from your face, dropping them to his sides. Slowly sinking to your knees, placing open mouthed kisses to his skin as you traveled south. You feel his abdomen contract at the light touch, making you smirk against his skin before swiping your tongue over the surface, making the man above you audibly whimper.
“D-don’t tease, sweets.” 
You chuckle, pulling his jeans all the way down, he kicks them to the side. Choso slides his boxers off, not wanting to waste anymore time, much to your dismay. You roll your eyes, but your attitude disappears once his cock springs up and you catch a glimpse of his reddened tip, just begging for your attention. 
“Sit,” you whisper, running your fingertips up his legs, tracing over the tiger tattoo on his thigh; placing a kiss on its nose after he sits on the edge of the bed.
“Anything you want, baby,” he reaches to cradle your face, but you dodge his reach. He looks at you quizzically.
“No touching,” rolls off your tongue. You watch his eyes darken as that famous smile forms.
“Oh, you want to play like that?” he leans back on his hands, as you nod. Your hands wrapping around the base of his cock, making him suck a breath through his teeth.
“Wanna see how long you can last without touching me,” you say before you spit onto his tip, smearing it with the precum along his length. Engulfing him in your mouth, swirling your tongue over his tip; running it up and down the prominent vein along the underside. Choso’s eyes roll into the back of his head when you pass the tip of your tongue over the tip of his cock. 
“F–Fuck, sweets, that’s s–so go–ood,” his hands fist in the comforter, just itching to grasp into your hair to guide you how he wanted you. But he was enjoying letting you have your fun. You hum after sinking him to the back of your throat; working him up and up and up. “Baby, if you don’t stop, I’m gon–” you reach up, to fondle his balls, giving them a firm squeeze. His hands shoot up; pulling you off of his cock. “Unless you want me to cum down your throat, you’d better stop now,” he warns you, letting you go. You shake your head.
“Fuck my throat, Choso,” you groan. “Gimme your cum,” your tongue lulls out as you put your mouth on him again.
“You want my help now?” he questions, swiping your hair out of your eyes. You hum an ‘mhm’ around his cock. You pull off for a second—”You already lost, so just fuck my throat already”—before sinking your mouth back onto him. A groan erupts from deep in his chest; he stands slightly, gripping underneath your chin with one hand, and cradles the back of your head with the other, “Breathe through that nose, baby,” he says before nestling your nose against his happy trail; holding you there for a few seconds before pulling back just enough to hear the slick sounds of spit leaving your lips and then diving back in. Rocking his hips back and forth; his balls slapping your chin with every thrust. Your eyes watering, mascara bleeding onto your cheeks. He pulls you off, letting you catch your breath. “Color?” he asks, leaning down by your face. 
“G-green,” you choke out, a sadistic grin forming on your lips. 
“My filthy girl,” he smiles down at you. Tapping your cheek, signaling you to open, Choso spits onto your tongue, colliding his fingertips with the surface of your cheek before sliding his cock back into your mouth. You groan at the impact on your cheek. “Still want my cum in your throat? Blink once for yes and two for no, sweets,” he grins down at you. You blink once in response. “Alright, baby” he speeds up his hips, the tip of his cock prodding at the back of your throat with every thrust. You gag, but he presses on emptying himself deep inside. Moans and cries of your name leave his lips as he squeezes every last drop into your mouth onto your tongue. You swallow and cough as he pulls himself out, catching your breath. He reaches down, pulling you up under your arms to stand with him. Swiping his hands over your hips and lower back; he pulls you to straddle his lap on the bed once again. “Such a pretty girl, looking a mess for me,” he praises, swiping a thumb across your cheek wiping some of the tears and drool away. “Missed you like this. Missed you in general,” he whispers, pressing his lips to yours, tasting himself on your tongue. 
“I missed you too,” you whisper against his lips, pressing your lips back together. He grins against your mouth.
“Couldn’t have missed me too much,” he chastises you, “How many guys did you try to look for me in?” he questions, flipping the two of you over, standing between your legs and  leaning over you. “Hm? How many guys did you try to let have what's mine?” One of his hands swipes those two fingers through your folds.
“J-just f-four,” you moan at the contact. “Promise, I missed you,” you try to pull him down to you, but he remains like a statue, staring at you from above. “Please, kiss me, Choso,” you plead with him.
“Mm, just four,” he mutters. “Gonna give me four orgasms to make it up to me?” he nods his head at you, grabbing your chin to nod your head for you; he smiles at the look of panic in your eyes. “Say, ‘Yes, Choso’ if you understand, baby,” he says, placing a kiss on your nose.
“Y-yes, Choso,” you whisper. Smiling before pulling his lips to yours. He trails his kisses down the expanse of your chest, teasing his tongue on your skin with every kiss. You’re a whimpering mess beneath his touch. Reacting to every pass of his hands over your sweat-slicked skin. Choso settles on his knees between your legs, sligning your knees over his shoulders.
“Still green?” he asks, breath fanning over your cunt. 
“Uhuh,” you whine. “So green.”
Choso dives right in, swiping his tongue over your clit before wrapping his lips around it and sucking, lightly crazing his teeth over the nub; making your hips jerk in response. One of his hands slides up to firmly hold your hips in place against the mattress. 
“Oh, fuck, Choso,” you gasp as a finger enters your heat, giving you that delicious curl that only he could achieve. Your fingers weave into his hair, tugging at the roots. 
“Mm, baby. Keep pulling on it,” he moans against your pussy. “Make it hurt,” he whines. Tongue fucking you as deep as he could and his nose constantly bumping up with your clit has your senses turning all the lights in the house on, plus his finger poking at your g spot has you cumming without warning. Clutching onto his curls for dear life as your body convulses under his mouth.
“Gimme all of it, baby. Soak my face,” he says, continuing his ministrations. Your clit throbs under his tongue, sending shockwaves through your body. 
“T–too much, Choso, oh god. Too much!” He slaps down on your thigh as a warning.
“Shut up, and take it for me like the good girl I know you can be f’me,” his thumb pressing on your clit, sending you into your second orgasm only a minute and a half after your first one. “Good,” he praises you. “Very good, baby.” His fingers continue working you through your trembling state; bringing you back down to earth; just for him to send you back into outer space once he deemed you ready for takeoff. “How are you feeling, sweets?” He slides your legs off of his shoulders, then standing to lean over you again.
“So fucking good, Choso,” you moan out, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. He leans into your touch laying his body weight on top of yours. One of his hands comes up to cradle your face, swiping his thumb over the apple of your cheek before kissing you hard. Tasting yourself on someone else’s tongue has never tasted so good. He moans into your mouth, swiping his cock through your folds. 
“Good,” he smiles down at you. You hike your leg up around his hip, tugging him as close to you as possible as he pushes inside. A delicious stretch that you’ve missed terribly. None of those boys you’d attempted to forget Choso with could ever compare to this here and now. He swallows the moans you let escape; sliding his other hand down to grip the sides of your throat, making you whimper. “Take it,” he growls, “Take it all.” 
“Hgnh, Choso. It–it’s–” your moans take over before you’re able to finish your sentence. But Choso knew.
“Know it is, baby. But you love it.” He grins, covering your mouth with his to pull your tongue into his mouth. Stilling his hips once he’s at full hilt, surveying your body's responses to the stretch. Pulling your other leg up over his hip, you silently beg him to move. Choso begins rocking his hips back and forth, stealing every one of your whimpers and cries of pleasure. Your nails leaving scratches along his back. Choso reaches one arm under your lower back, lifting your hips slightly, getting a different angle. Your head tilts back, he takes the opportunity to attach his teeth to your throat, eliciting a deep groan from you. 
But he’s not satisfied yet. He stands, still inside you; grabbing ahold of behind both of your knees and pressing them to your chest, he pistons himself into your cunt; turning you into a whimpering mess. “Fuck, sweets, this pussy fe–eels so good.” He groans, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. The angle making your eyes cross; lulling your tongue out he offers you a wad of spit, adding two fingers. “Suck,” and you do. Taking them into your mouth; swirling your tongue around. His other hand sliding down to rub fast circles on your clit, making you gasp. Accepting the opportunity, he pushes his fingers further into your throat making you gag. “Hm, very good, baby,” he smiles at you, retracting his fingers; offering you a slap across your cheek. You smile up at him. “Dirty girl, just wants to be manhandled. Poor thing’s been neglected, huh?” You nod. 
He speeds up his fingers, ignoring your protests of too much. He reminds you that you know what words to use if you really want him to stop. “Gonna cum, pretty?” 
“Uhuh uhuh,” you whine, “hurts, Choso.”
“Know it does, pretty. But you’ll take it f’me won’t you?” he coos at you. You nod frantically in response, your arms anchoring around his neck and pulling him to you. “Yeah you will.”
“G’na cum, Choso,” you tuck your face into his throat, peppering kisses all over the surface in attempt to ground yourself. 
“Cum all over me, pretty girl. Give it to me,” he whispers in your ear. Your body contracts against his, he anchors one hand to your hip, forcing you to remain in place and accept the assault on your bundle of nerves from his other hand.
“Cho, please, please, please,” whines leave your spit slicked lips, and he just coos you to be quiet.
“Shh, baby. Just take it f’me.” his fingers speed up just a little bit more, as do your whines. “Now, now, do I need to silence you? You were doing so good, baby,” he says, colliding his fingertips with your cheek once again, making you go quiet. You shake your head ‘No’. He takes hold of your face, covering your mouth with his hand as he looks down into your eyes. “Then give me another, right now,” he demands, stilling his hips against yours but continuing to spell his name over your bundle of nerves over and over and over again. 
“F–fuck, Choso,” your body works into overdrive as you hit the peak of the mountain again; toppling over the edge of pleasure and coming down fast, headed right for rock bottom but not before Choso swiftly pulls himself out of you, and flipping you over onto your tummy. You gasp in surprise. He enters you again from behind, you reach back to grasp his hip, attempting to push him back. 
“Ah, ah, ah. I’m not done with you yet,” he growls in your ear. Grasping both of your arms, he folds them against your lower back.
“Y-you said, f-four,” you whine into the comforter.
“Did I?” he grins above you. “Hm, guess that makes me a liar too, doesn’t it? C’mon pretty, give me number five.”
“Ch-Choso, I–I ca-can’t.”
“You can, and you will,” he states matter of factly. Pulling your arms back with each thrust of his hips to hit every good angle inside your pussy. 
Your head is spinning, every nerve of yours is on fire. Sliding his free hand down the expanse of your back, he presses his thumb into your ass, making you moan louder than you have all night. With every thrust of Choso’s hips it drives his thumb further into your ass making your eyes cross.
“G’na cum again, oh god, Choso. G’na cum!”
“Cum, baby. Give all of it to me,” your arousal comes in waves, squirting all over Choso’s abdomen and thighs. “Oh, yes, baby. There she is, such a dirty girl. C’mon, keep squirting all over this dick,” he groans. Leaning down to angle your head to smush his lips against yours. Your body is set ablaze; nobody has ever been able to set your senses on fire like this. Choso was your one in a million, and he finally saw that. He continues thrusting his hips, in and out, in and out milking every bit of your arousal from you that he can. Releasing your arms, he braces his hands near your head, biting down on your upper back as he fucks you into the mattress.
“W-where do you want my cum, baby?” He asks breathlessly, sinking his teeth back into your skin.
“I-inside. Fill me up, Choso,” you moan into the blanket beneath you, your knuckles turning white from your grip.
“Don't have to tell me twice,” he grunts, “G’na fill this pussy up with my babies. Make you all swollen for me. Then those boys will know who you belong to. You want that?” 
“F-Fuck, yes, Choso. Make me yours,” you cry out, fisting the comforter in your hands. He stills against you; filling you to the brim. “S-shit, Choso. So good, baby. So good.”
“Shit, pretty—you’re so good. Best I ever had, swear to god. Such a good girl,” he moans against your skin. “Perfect f’me.”
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The months of brooding just kept him away from what was his; you. Everything about you. The smile he fell in love with at first sight, but refused to admit it. The sounds of your laughter filling the air. The gleam in your eyes when you got particularly excited about something, especially if it was considered taboo. You were his dirty girl.
He was leaning against the counter as you two discussed everything. The one question you’d asked him that he didn’t really want to answer at the time. “Do you believe in love?” His response, “I’d like to, but it’s not for me,” and it broke your heart. He didn’t think he was deserving. He just wanted to run his business, and move on. He ignored every pang in his chest when he thought about you. But looking at you here and now, his arms wrapped around you as you stood in your hotel room shower, his heart has never felt more full.
“I think I have to change my answer to one of your previous questions.” He says, running his hands over your water slicked skin, rubbing circles on your hips with his thumbs.
“Mm, which one would that be?” You ask, turning your head to look up at him, cheek pressed against his chest, your fingers tangled in his wet curls.
“If I believe in love.”
“And?” You question, a sly smile forming on your lips.
“If I get to experience it with you, then I absolutely believe in love,” he leans down to softly kiss your lips, pulling you as close to him as possible. “But you were right about one thing,” he whispers as he pulls away for a split second, taking in the gigantic smile on your face. Your eyes searching for any sense of deception. 
There is none.
“What’s that?” you ask, bringing a hand down to cup his face; you run your thumb across his bottom lip.
“I didn’t do feelings. Not until you,” and he’s kissing you again.
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heart divider: @benkeibear
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jedi-bird · 1 year
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I have decided that today shall be a do nothing day. I'm tired, I still have a headache from yesterday, and quite frankly I need a me day. I did get a bit done. Sorted out some small boxes of stuff into permanent storage, finished watering the plants, found some important papers (blood draw orders and neurologist referral that's been missing plus possibly a copy of my birth certificate that might let me update my ID so we can fly next year). Started washing the cleaning rags and dish towels, but it's a three step process the way I do it so that's an all day thing. Currently waiting for the pain meds to kick in and then I'm going to try to write. House stuff can wait until I have the mental energy to deal with it again.
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sykostyles · 2 months
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subject to change 1.0
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wc: 6.4k summary: in which Y/N is a fairly inexperienced romance author, and Harry is a bookstore owner who happens to be a big fan. What happens when he offers her one night to experience some of the things she’s written about? part two
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a/n: hi there! can you tell I'm ovulating? that is the only explanation I have for this one. big shouts to my mootite patootie @celestie0 for being a real girls girl and being my beta reader and personal hype woman! she read the whole thing and she doesn't even like Harry like that! Ellie is a real one. (check out her story kickoff rn!🔪)
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cw: bdsm dynamics, impact play, breath play, spit play, cum play, anal, anal creampie, p in v, facefucking, mild shibari, bondage, use of sir, degradation, edging, spanking, choking, toy usage (vibrator, butt plug), overstimulation, there’s a lot okay reader be warned.
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“Hey, Jenny!” Your voice echoed through the phone. Your publicist had a habit of calling when you were trying to get your daily rough drafting and editing done. Currently you’re staring at a manuscript of the follow up to your latest release, still unsure what to name it. 
“Y/N, I’m glad I caught you! I had something come up for you to start the press tour for your newest release!” Jenny, your publicist excitedly squeals through the phone. Her tone makes you peel the phone away from your ear for a split second. You glance over to your right to look at the book in question. “Little Freak” was your latest release. Another smutty romance novel full of things you’d never actually experienced; only dreamed about. You were experienced enough, but always craved more. But your books were a hit and people were snatching them up left and right.
“A press tour? I’ve never done anything like that.” You respond, balancing the phone between your cheek and shoulder, tapping away at your computer 
“I know, but it’s a signing! At this local shop downtown.” She explains, “The owner says they’d love to host in exchange for the publicity.”
“A signing?” you question. Never did you think a signing would be an event you’d have. ”People want to meet me?” 
“Oh yeah, girl. Loads of people.” She chuckles. “Do you know how many people have sent you fan mail saying you gave them a sexual awakening with your books? So many people want to meet you.” Her response makes you physically laugh. 
“Wow, I'm just writing about fantasies I have.” you chuckle, “But I’m so glad people are finding themselves.” 
“But about this signing!” She continues. “It’s booked for next weekend, but I’ll be going this weekend to meet with the owner and talk about the setup. You can be there if you want or you can just leave that to me.” She continues rambling about anything and everything pertaining to the signing. Ending the call she gives you the address and you tell her you’d meet her there on saturday. 
You loathed taking public transportation, and requesting a car for a short trip seemed pointless to you. So hoofing it, it was. Weaving your way through the city sidewalk, you’d located the shop rather easily. You were shocked you’d never heard of this place before. You’d been through here many times.
“Y/N, over here!” You hear Jenny yell from the corner of the store. It was really nice. Big floor to ceiling windows. Full mahogany bookshelves lining the walls and aisles. A giant seating area with plush chairs, couches and bean bags. A coffee and tea bar near the windows. String lights hang from the exposed rafters. The aroma of the store wafting scents of natural wood, patchouli and vanilla. There’s plants everywhere. The cash register tucked in the corner with a “Owners Picks” section right in front. Harry’s House in big yellow bubble letters on the wall. 
Your eyes just scan everywhere before they fall on Jenny, standing next to a man. A man with emerald eyes, dark chestnut curls, glasses pushed atop his head, and a smile plastered on his face.
“I can’t believe this place has been hiding here,” you state, walking towards her and the man. “Hi, I’m Y/N,” you’re holding your hand out to him. He eyes you before slipping his hand in yours and giving you a delicate shake. Your skin heats up at his touch.
“M’ Harry. S’nice to meet you,” he claims, “I haven’t opened yet. Your signing will be my grand opening.” He states, letting your hand go. What was that?
“That explains why I’ve never seen it before. It’s beautiful in here,” you gesture all around. “It’s so cozy.” Why do you want him to touch you again?
“That was the vision when I was planning everything. When I heard your team was looking for a place to host a signing, I knew it would be perfect for a grand opening as well.” Keep talking.
“You’ve heard of me?” you ask in disbelief with your eyebrow raised. He’s looking at you as if he’s ready to eat you alive. Please do.
“I’m quite a big fan, actually.” he chuckles, “I’ve read all of your releases so far. But, we can discuss that after. Jenny, do show us what your plan is.” He says, leading you both over to the seating area.
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After your sit down meeting with Harry and Jenny, Jenny says she’s heading back to the office to send out the email to your team with the plan. Harry asked you if you’d stay to continue your conversation from earlier and go over more specifics, to which you happily obliged although you felt a tinge of nervousness once you were left alone with him.
You eye him as he prepares some tea for the both of you, getting a really good look this time. Glancing at the furrow in his eyebrows as he focuses on the task at hand. The fabric of his white dress shirt pulled taught across his shoulders as he moves around the space; the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The skin you can see is littered with black ink. The way the veins in his arms start to give you unholy thoughts about how they’d feel wrapped around your neck– 
“You’ll have to forgive my shortness earlier, I’m not used to men telling me they’re a fan of my work,” you chuckle, trying to steer your thoughts in a different direction.
“Ah, not to worry.​​​ It takes more than that to offend me,” he says, walking back to the couch you’re settled on; tea cups in hand. “But, indeed I am a huge fan,” he hands you one of the cups as he takes a seat on the other end of the couch. “I believe the first book of yours I read was Lingering Smoke,” he ponders for a moment, “Or no, it actually was Whipped & Chained,” his recall of your titles make you squirm.
“T-those are my two most popular titles,” you start to speak, praying he didn’t notice the way he made you stutter. He did. You clear your throat before continuing, “but my latest release is wiping the floor with both of those at this rate,” you say, regaining your composure. He offers you a smile. A salacious smile.
“I’m not surprised,” he says, eyeing the pink tinge on your cheeks, “I have read them all though,” he says, shifting his seating position on the couch to now fully face you, “they often give me,” his gaze boring into yours, “ideas,” he’s lifting his tea cup to his lips. You swear you feel a chill down your spine.
“Ideas?” you question, your eyes searching his. Are they darker?
“Ideas.” He affirms. “You should know though. You write about them.” He chuckles.
“I mean, I guess,” you shrug your shoulders, “I’m just writing fantasies I have,” you laugh, but he doesn’t.
“Fantasies? You mean you’ve never done those things? Felt those things?” He asks in disbelief.
You shake your head with a light laugh. “I seriously find that so hard to believe.”
“Please, my college boyfriend could never,” you chuckle, setting your tea cup on the coffee table. “I just drum up some ideas–as you so call them–and put it into a story. Nothing special.” He stares at you in disbelief again. 
“I jus–wow. I honestly expected you to be super well versed in those aspects. Pardon my assumption,” he says, holding his hands up.
“I mean, I guess it’s a pretty fair assumption, so no offense taken. Apparently I’ve given people sexual awakenings according to Jenny,” you laugh making him laugh this time. 
The awkward tension seems to dissipate with the shared laughter, but a different tension seems to linger. He seems so stone-like; like he only has one goal; and that goal is you. Truth be told, you’d happily oblige.
“Would you like to?” He asks, repositioning himself on the couch again, slightly closer to you.
“Like to?” you’re feigning ignorance. You know what he wants, but you're playing dumb.
“Experience those things.” He leans his arm over the back of the couch, taking in the obvious look of desire in your eyes.
“I mean, sure. Who wouldn’t?” You snort, looking over to him but he’s just staring at you. “Oh, you mean like, with you?” you ask slowly, still playing dumb.
He smiles that smile again, “Sure, why not?” He asks. “I’m game if you are.”
“Harry. Do you hear how crazy that sounds? We’ve known each other for half an hour.”
“So? We don’t have to see each other after. I don’t really do ‘feelings’ anyways.” he’s gesturing air quotes around feelings, his tone rather repulsed sounding. “This could be a one time thing. You get to experience some of the things you’ve written about, and I get my rocks off. A win/win situation if you ask me.” He says, gathering the tea cups and sauntering back over to the coffee station. 
“You sound so romantic, Harry,” you chuckle. Maybe this wouldn’t be a terrible idea. The last hookup you had was less than thrilling. And here you have a very attractive man offering exactly what you’ve been looking for. Regardless if it’s for one night, you’re willing to try.
“Interested?” He asks, leaning against the counter behind him.
“Sure. Why not,” You respond, mimicking his words back to him.
You make a mutual agreement to meet up and converse every day over the next week to discuss specifics, what each other's limits are—Harry all but told you he had none—and to remind you that this was all about you and what you wanted to experience. He gave you homework of coming up with what exactly you wanted. Your mind races as you think about what you’d want to experience first. There are so many options! 
He adored the look of mixed emotions on your face; the excitement, the apprehension. The enthusiasm in your voice but also the way you shied away when he asked you to list what you wanted, and how you wanted it. The way you sit on the couch in his bookstore with your legs crossed as you look down at the notebook in your lap. Ever the author; making a rough draft of these taboo acts you want this near stranger to do to you. Harry may not make it out of this alive if you keep looking at him with those eyes.
After your signing is when he’d bring your fantasies to life.
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The spare key to his apartment was burning a hole in your hand as you made your way down the hall. You stood in front of the door a moment, contemplating one last time if this was what you wanted. He reminded you before you left the bookstore that there was no pressure. He would understand if he got home and you weren’t there. But you’re certain you want this. If nothing, you’ll get more fuel for your writing,
Once inside, you set his key on the counter before making your way to his bedroom so you could prepare for his arrival. Nerves are sneaking up on you but they’re overtaken by sheer excitement once you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror on the wall on the opposite side of his bed. You begin to undress, watching yourself in the mirror as you pull your dress down your shoulders, revealing the dark red lingerie set you wore for the occasion.
The sound of his front door opening causes your breath to catch in your throat. Finding your spot near the bed, your hands find the tops of your thighs as you kneel on the floor in anticipation of his arrival; eyes cast down like he directed. His footsteps draw closer, causing the butterflies to stir awake inside your gut. The bedroom door opens, but you keep your gaze down. The tops of his shoes come into your vision. “Eyes up.”
Your head snaps up in response, eyes meeting his dark gaze. That salacious grin being the star of the show. “Hmm,” he starts, sliding his thumb across your cheek as he takes hold of your chin, “Already so obedient,” he clicks his tongue, “I like that.” The mild praise makes you grin.
His free hand slides down to fumble with his belt buckle, the sound of the metal clinking together sending shockwaves straight between your legs. You feel the leather being slung around your neck and he sinches the sides together, tightening around your throat. 
Your breath hitches.
“Open,” he says. Your tongue immediately lulled out as you open your mouth, aiming to please him. You groan as a warm stream of spit falls onto your tongue and two of his fingers press down to smear it around the surface. “So pretty like this.”
A whimper escapes you in response.
“Do you remember your safewords?” You nod. “And what are you supposed to do if you’re unable to speak?” Reaching up, you tap his thigh three times. “What about if your wrists are bound?” You snap your fingers before resting your hand against your thigh again. Gurgling sounds fall from your lips as his fingers run over the back of your tongue. “Good girl,” he pushes a little further, “That’s a good girl,” he says as his fingers make their way down your throat, brushing against your gag reflex, causing you to gag slightly. “Ooh, a little training is needed I see,” he mocks.
Your core is on fire and he’s barely touched you. A few dirty words and his fingers in your throat and you’re ready to roll over and bark like a dog, Nevermind the fact that his belt is around your neck like a leash. 
Whimpers leave you at his chastisement, making him grin. Spit rolls down your chin; your hands reach up instinctively to grip the front of his thighs. “No touching,” he reminds you, making you timidly retract them. “Do I need to restrict your hands already?” You try to shake your head in his hold to say no, causing the belt to tighten. 
That was one of the only rules he gave you. “No touching, no kissing, and you have to ask me permission to cum.”
Tears burn in the seams of your eyes as he continues his exploration of the inside of your mouth; fingers prodigy at your gag reflex again. You cough and gag but he presses on just a little further until he feels you instinctively pull your head back. Harry withdraws his fingers as he watches you cough and heave. “Don’t know how you’re gonna take my cock, sweets,” he mocks you again, “you’re already a crying mess from two fingers.”
His words make you audibly groan. You want more. You need more. “Need it, sir,” you smile up at him. 
“I know, pup,” he’s cradling your face. He taps your cheek with those same two fingers, telling you to open again. “You’ll get it,” he spits on your tongue once more, “Now, remember to breathe through your nose this time,” he says before he slides his fingers back in your mouth.
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Your ankles are secured to the posts of his headboard; wrists hooked to the leather belt around your waist, and your head hangs over the edge of his bed. Harry’s hands roam your upper body, groping your breasts and pinching your perked nipples. His cock sliding in and out of your throat at an agonizingly slow speed; savoring the feeling of your tongue gliding along the underside of his shaft. “Fuck, sweets,” he groans. A hand sliding up to lightly grip the sides of your neck, “haah, feel that?” he asks, squeezing the sides where your throat bulges, “feel me deep in your throat?”
Drool pours from the sides of your lips; the wet squelching sounds of his cock gliding in and out of your throat is like music to his ears. “This what you wanted?” he asks, pulling himself from your mouth, tapping his length on your lips. You writhe before him, trying to catch your breath. He rubs the tip of his cock over the apple of your cheek, smearing the drool and precum across the surface. “Asked you a question, pet,” he says, giving an open-palmed smack to your right breast, making you yelp.
“Y-yes, sir,” you breathe out, “T-this is what I w-wanted.” You wish you could clench your thighs together to feel some kind of friction. His condescending tone has a rush of arousal pooling between your legs.
“Yeah?” he mocks, “Wanted your throat fucked like some cheap whore?” He slides back in your mouth. A whimper escapes your lips as he reaches the back of your throat. Steadying your breathing through your nose, you focused on the task at hand; keeping your tongue flat and your cheeks hollow. You’re squeezing your fists together, creating crescent shaped indents on your palms. It’s like you can already feel him everywhere. You can’t wait to actually feel him everywhere. “Just wanted me to have my way with you?” he slides one hand down between your legs and swipes two of his fingers through your folds, “Such a dirty girl. So wet for me already,” your hips involuntarily buck at the contact with your neglected core, making him chuckle before shoving your hips back down onto the bed.
“Hold it,” he demands as he stills his hips with the tip of his cock nestled in the back of your throat. Five. Ten. The seconds tick by as he tests your breath holding ability. Fifteen. Twenty. You flex your hands before clasping them back shut; Harry keeping a close eye on them lest you need to perform a safeword act. Twenty five. Thirty. “Good,” he commends as he pulls out and you struggle to catch your breath. “Very good, Pup,” he taps your cheek with his fingertips.
Harry maneuvers himself around the bed, grabbing the spool of rope on the floor before moving to settle on his knees between your legs. He frees your left ankle before taking hold of your hips and pulling you towards him, letting your head rest on the mattress. “How’re you feeling up there?” he asks, smoothing his hands up your legs, over your hips and tummy, stopping and rubbing slow circles. 
“G-good, s-sir” you stammer out, still breathing deeply; flexing your hands to get the feeling back in them. You feel his hands grip under your knee, lifting your leg into a bend; foot flat on the mattress.
“Yeah?” he smirks, “What’s your color?” He grabs the spool of rope to his right, beginning to wrap the rope around your bent leg in a frog tie; the back of your calf is flush with the back of your thigh, forcing your leg to remain bent and open.
“Green,” rushes out before you even think about what he asked, you just want more.
Harry smiles at your response, finishing up the last bit on the knots. He runs the tips of his fingers over the rope before lifting himself on his knees to lean over you. “Good,” he smirks. Leaning forward, he braces his weight on one hand near your head. “Well just look at you,” he mocks. Your mascara is running, the lipstick you wore is smeared, and half dried patches of spit and precum litter your skin.
His other hand reaches up to lightly grip the sides of your face, turning your head from side to side in his hold as he really studies his handiwork. “Seems I’ve turned you into a little throat slut, huh?” His degrading words send shockwaves to your cunt. “But, let's see what else your holes are capable of,” He says with a firm smack to your cheek, causing your head to jerk to the left and a masochistic smile to form on your lips.  Harry slides off the bed before appearing above you again, a blindfold in hand. 
Your vision has been taken from you as well as your mobility. He has you exactly where he wants you; pliant and ready for him.
Harry settles between your legs again; teasing touches linger up your legs towards where you want him most. You feel two fingers spread your lips apart. “Hmm, such a wet little pussy. Were you feeling neglected down here while I was fucking your face?” he teases. You whimper in response, making him grin. Ghosting his fingertips over your sensitive bundle of nerves, he slides two of his fingers between your folds before dipping them inside and curving them upwards. A strangled moan falls from your lips. “Let me hear you,” he’s scissoring his fingers in and out of you, “Let me hear how good I’m making you feel.”
“G-god, sir. S-so good,” you whimper. “N-need more, please,” your skin begins to heat up; a thin layer of sweat forming. Chills follow; goosebumps littering the surface
“Oh, I’ll give you more,” he chuckles at you, bringing his free hand down in a firm smack on your clit, making you jolt. Reaching to his left, he picks up a wand vibrator, sets it against your clit and turns it on the lowest setting; gradually turning it higher in tandem with his fingers. He’s working you up to the peak of the mountain, steadily keeping you on your toes.
“Please, please, please, can i cum, sir?”
“No,” he’s retracting his fingers and the wand as he watches you whine and writhe before him.
“Hnng, sir, please,” you beg him. “Put it back, please,” Tears begin brimming in your eyes at the loss of stimulation.
“Silence,” he slaps down on your clit again making you yelp. “You cum when I say you can,” his tone firm, “Do you not remember that part of our conversations?” his hand comes down on the bundle again. Warm tears start dampening the blindfold held against your face. You nod your head. Smack. Again. “Words,” he prompts.
“I-I r-remember, Sir,” your voice wobbly, “I’m s-sorry,”
“I’ll bet you are. Don’t worry though, I’ll make sure it sticks in your empty little head,” another smack follows.
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He’s got you on your knees now, left leg still frog tied and the other reattached to the bedpost, your back in a full arch. Your hands are stretched above your head; wrists tied together with leftover rope. His hands are anchored to your hips as he drives his cock in and out of your cunt. “Sh-shit,” he grunts, “this pussy feels so good; sucking me in like there’s no tomorrow,” One of his hands glides down to tickle the bottom of your foot, causing you to jolt and squirm in his hold. He grins at your attempt to escape the sensations.
“Hnngh, sir,” you groan, turning your head against the sheets. “Feels. So. Fucking. Good,” each word sounding pointed with each thrust of his hips. Your body is addicted to the dopamine rush; still holding on to the feeling of every orgasm he ripped from you with the vibrator before he decided you were ready for his cock. But not before he nestled a dark red, heart shaped plug into your ass to prep for later. You feel so deliriously full with both holes being stretched. 
Harry reaches up, gathering your hair in one of his hands before tugging you up to be flush with his front, keeping up the pace of his hips.
“Know it does, pet,” he switches his hold, gripping the front of your throat with one hand as he slides the other one down between your legs to rub fast circles on your clit. “Can feel you clenching down on me like a damn vice,” His grip tightens on your throat, his fingers speed up as you turn into a crying mess from his touch..
“G-gna cum,” you stammer,  “P-please, let me cum, s-sir,” 
“Cum,” he stills his hips against your ass, but continues his ministrations against your clit causing you to convulse against him’ your abdomen contracting with each wave of pleasure.
“S’too much, sir” you cry out, “Please! Too much!” you wiggle in his grasp. He squeezes the sides of your throat a little tighter as a warning.
“You know what to say to get me to stop,” he reminds you, continuing to massage the abused bundle. 
You choke out a whine in response, your body trembling with red hot pleasure. He knew you didn’t want him to stop. You knew what words to use to get him to slow down.
“Dirty girl. You’ll take anything I give you, huh?” he chastises you, his words scratch an itch in your brain and send you into a second orgasm. He continues to pull delicious sounds from you; all the sounds he’s become obsessed with. Tossing you back down onto the bed, he braces himself on either side of your head as he begins to piston his hips into you, fucking you into the mattress and siphoning every ounce of your orgasm he can out of you. “Such a good little slut, creaming all over this cock.”
His hips begin to slow as you come down and he runs one of his hands down the expanse of your back, before pushing and pulling on the plug.
“Oh, f-fuck, sir. That feels s-so go–ood,” your voice muffled by the comforter. “W-want you in my ass, sir. Please,” you say, turning your face against the mattress so he could hear you.
“Yeah? Wanna feel me stretch that tiny ass open?” he starts to pull on the plug, your hips jerk in reaction.
“Mhm, need it.” you mewl. “Please, sir,”
“I’ll give it to you, pet, don’t worry,” he says as he slowly pulls himself out of you. Harry stands from the bed before pulling you towards him. Maneuvering you to lay on your side with your back and butt facing him as he stands behind you. He smooths one hand up your side, groping your breasts, sliding further along to grip your chin. “Open,” he commands, just like earlier. Opening your mouth, you invite two fingers inside. “Suck.” You happily oblige; wrapping your tongue around his appendages. His other hand reaches down between you to grasp the edges of the plug as he eases it out, toying with you in the process. 
You whine at the empty feeling, but you’re too focused on his fingers in your mouth to really care. Feeling his free hand swipe between your cheeks, he pushes a finger inside, eliciting a gasp from your lips. He takes the opportunity to push his fingers further into your mouth and add a second finger into your ass; slowly pumping the two fingers in and out of the tight ring of muscles. Groans fall from you at the strange intrusion; but you’re craving more.
“M-more,” you moan, voice strained from his fingers pressing on your tongue.
“Didn’t anyone teach you not to speak with your mouth full?” He sneers at you, retracting his fingers from your mouth before colliding his fingertips with your cheek.
You smile.
“S-sorry, sir. Feels s–so good. N-need more,” you’re pushing your hips back against the thrust of his fingers.
“Are you a little anal whore now too?” He chastises, but adds a third finger anyways, stretching you as best he can. 
“Mhm,” you whine. “Want your cock. Please, sir.” 
“Yeah, know you do,” he says as he withdraws his fingers slowly. He spits in his hand and wraps his fingers around the head of his cock, smearing the spit over the tip. He aligns himself with your tighter hole before beginning the tight press inside. “Just breathe,”
“Ngh, fuck,” you groan as he slowly inches inside. “Sh–shit,” your body tenses at the intrusion. It hurts so good. The stretch. The fill. Your head is spinning. More. More. More! 
“Mm, such a tight ass. Pulling me in so good,” he continues his shallow thrusts, easing his way inside until he’s fully sheathed. “T-there, we go.”
You’d never been comfortable enough to go beyond a plug in your ass with previous partners. Perhaps knowing you won’t see Harry after is what made you so feral for it this time around. You can’t describe the level of fullness you feel right now. His hands are gripped on your hip, thumbs digging into the supple flesh as he pulls you back to meet each thrust of his hips.
“S-sir,” you whisper out to him, your voice gone hoarse from screaming out in pleasure.
“What, pet?” he squeezes your hip, “you need something?”
“C-can you touch m-me, please?”
“This still isn’t enough for you? Such a greedy girl,” he brings his hand firmly down on your ass. Bringing his hand back, he lifts your leg from behind, tucking two fingers into your cunt; curling them to prod at that spot. 
“Oh, f–uck y-es, right– right there, sir,” your sobs of pleasure are going straight to his cock. “Pl-please, please don’t stop.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says with a smug grin etched onto his lips. “You want more?”
“Y-yes, please! Please, sir, more!” You aren’t sure what more he could give you but you’ll take whatever it is. You feel his fingers leave your cunt and his hips come to a halt against your ass. The sound of the wand vibrator coming to life fills your ears. He presses it against your sensitive clit, then tucks the end of the wand under the rope around your leg; keeping it firmly in place. You cry at the sensation. His fingers enter your pussy again, eliciting an animalistic like moan from your throat. “Oh–hngh–oh my god, sir, holy fuck.”
“That’s it,” he smacks down on your hip with his free hand, “Such a dirty little whore, just wants all of her holes filled like the girls she writes about in her dirty books.”
Your whimpers fill the air along with the sounds of sticky, squelching flesh and Harry’s grunts. You’ve never felt so full and empty at the same time in your life. The only thing you’re able to focus on is how good he’s making you feel. He’s kept true to his word; this was all about you and what you wanted. Every fantasy you told him over the week you met up with him at his book store, he brought to life. All of your senses are on fire, but all you can think about is how badly you want to cum.
“Sir, g’na cum! Please let me cum!” you scream. His fingers continue their assault on your g-spot, as he reaches down with his free hand to switch the vibrator to its highest setting before taking a firm grip on your throat and squeezing; sending you over the peak.
“Cum for me,” he demands, pulling the most intense orgasm you’ve ever felt in your life from you. A wet feeling forms between your legs and you hear Harry groan behind you. “Ohh, there’s a good girl. C’mon and keep squirting all over me, sweets,” his praises go straight between your legs as more moans and pleas escape from your throat. His fingers work overtime in your pussy; pulling every ounce of your arousal from you. The incessant buzzing of the wand on your clit puts stars in your vision and the feeling of his cock pounding in and out of your ass is the cherry on top. A second wave rushes over your senses, your body convulsing against Harry’s. “There she is,” he coos, “such a good, dirty girl.”
Harry eases his fingers from your core, and switches the wand off before untangling it from the rope and tosses it to the side. He grips your hip again with both hands as he pistons himself in and out of you, finally chasing his own orgasm. “Sh–shit, pet. Gonna cum. Where do you want it?” he pants out, digging his thumbs into the plush of your ass cheek.
“Pl–please cum in my ass, sir. Want it so bad,” you whine out, “Need it, please sir!”
“Calm down, gonna give you what you want, sweets.” His hips begin to stutter, grunts and groans fall from his lips along with cries of your name. He pushes in as far as he can as he empties himself into you–”Fuck, just like that, pet. S-so good”–before retracting his hips and pressing in again; fucking his release back into you. 
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“So, was that everything you wanted?” Harry asked as he unties the knots that were keeping your leg bent. You’re lying flat on the mattress, a warm washcloth in your hand as you wipe your face.
“Mhm, and then some,” you smile at him.
“Yeah? Happy to be of service,” he chuckles, beginning to help stretch and massage the muscles in your leg. You wince at the feeling of his fingers kneading the more tender areas. His calloused hands rub and dig the knots left behind. “I’ll take that,” he says, holding his hand out for the washcloth. He rubs it over your sensitive areas, not pressing too hard; really taking his time cleaning up his mess. “I’m going to run you a bath, and make you something to eat,” he stands from the bed, tossing the washcloth into the hamper before disappearing into the bathroom. 
Your thoughts begin to take you hostage as he fiddles around in the bathroom. You’d just let basically a total stranger do unspeakable acts to you, and now you’re about to take a bath in his tub. He’s being sweet to you now, making sure you’re comfortable. But that doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t want to see you after today. 
Upon his return, he catches himself smiling at your naked form laying across his bed. Clearing his throat, he strides over to you and extends his hand. “Upsie daisy, sweets,” he chuckles at the pained look on your face after you take his hand and stand at full height. “How do those legs feel?” he teases.
“Shut up,” you stick your tongue out at him, “I just went through a lot,” you laugh with him.
“Indeed you did,” he smiles sweetly at you. A completely different kind of smile than he’d ever given you before. When he looked at you at the bookstore, it was like a hunter eyeing his prey. Now he’s looking at you as if you’re the reason the sun rises and sets every day. You’re trying really hard not to think too hard into it. 
“He’s just being nice after figuratively beating the shit out of me,” you think to yourself. 
“Are you going to get in with me?” you ask once you reach the edge of the tub. Your big doe eyes looking up at him so sweetly as the words leave your lips. He’d never done something like that before. He doesn’t do the sweet stuff. But with the way you’re looking at him now, how could he say no?
“D-do you want me to?” he asks quietly. 
You nod softly in response, “If I only get one night with you, I’d like to make the most of it,” you turn to step into the tub.
Harry’s heart pangs in his chest. He nods slowly and swallows the lump in his throat. Leaning forward, you allow him enough room to slip in behind you before you lean back against his chest. His arms warily make their way around your body as he pulls you back as close to him as possible. 
“Did you enjoy yourself?” leaves you before you can even think about it.
“You’re asking if I had a good time making you bend and break at my will? Yeah I think I did,” he says, making you laugh. 
“Hey, I just wanted to make sure,” you say tilting your head to the side to look up at him. “I had a great time by the way.” you chuckle before turning back around.
“I’m glad. You did a great job,” He picks up the fresh washcloth he’s gotten for you, and dunks it in the water. “May I?” he asks, gesturing towards you.
“Sure,” you whisper, your cheeks turning a soft pink at the praise. He rubs the washcloth over the expanse of your chest and tummy; up your arms and down your legs, really taking his time helping you feel relaxed. “Thank you, Harry. For today.” you feel yourself lean into his hold.
“My pleasure, Y/N," he smiles against your temple.
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“You sure you have everything?” Harry asks as he helps you put your jacket on, pulling your hair from underneath for you.
“I had everything the last three times you asked,” you giggle at him, the sound is like music to his ears. He’d do anything to hear it for just a little bit longer. He said he could do just one night. He swore he could. But why does the thought of you walking out his door make him feel like his chest is going to cave in?
“Just want to be sure,” He smiles that soft smile at you again, making your cheeks heat up. 
How dare he.
“Please, stop looking at me like that,” you whisper, unable to hide your discomfort anymore.
“How am I looking at you?” his voice quiet and sad.
“L-Like you actually care about me.” tears collect in your waterline, “You said so yourself, this was a one time thing. So, please, just stop looking at me like that. It’s very confusing.” The words poured out of you before you could stop them. He just stares at you with sad eyes. “T-Thank you again, Harry. I really appreciate your help.” You say, your voice shaking as you avoid eye contact. He’s studying your face; The hurt etched across your features. The same hurt he felt in his chest, but refused to show. “Good luck with your store,” you say as you pull the door shut behind you, leaving him in the silence of his empty apartment.
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c/n: oh my what a ride, right? this is not the last of our brooding pair. you'll see the ending of their story soon!
please like &/or reblog if you enjoyed!
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d3add0vedonoteat · 4 months
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Carbonara (or Carmy Cooks for You)
Pt. 2 of Chicken Soup for Carmy
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This is part 2 of Chicken Soup for Carmy! I hope you love it. NO WARNINGS. Pure fluff
Your apartment was warm. You entered ahead of Carmy, hanging your coat on the wall and kicking off your shoes. “Make yourself at home!” You invited, jovially.
Carmy followed suit, taking in your space. It smelled like you. It was small, but cozy. Personal touches littered every inch of the space. Your kitchen was to the left, a small wooden table against the wall for your dining area. The kitchen counter looked out to the moderately sized living room. Your little orange velvet couch sat before exposed brick and two tall windows. The wall to the left was covered with posters and picture frames, to the right were a pair of bookshelves without an inch of space that wasn’t occupied by a book or trinket. Several plants crowded the windowsills. The rug was soft and plushy on his feet. It would seem hectic to the blind eye, but Carmy could sense the intention behind each item present. Drumming his fingers on his leg, he chose to look at the wall of pictures. It was an eclectic mix of old posters; there were vintage Coca Cola posters, fashion campaigns from the 70s and 80s, music posters like The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, Led Zepplin and such.. There were pictures and Polaroids of you with people he didn’t recognize and a few random things in picture frames; a pressed flower, a movie ticket, an unused tea bag, a coffee cup sleeve with a scrawling handwriting on it that said “don’t look back”.
You emerged from the bathroom, your hair free from the bun Carmy was used to. It fell about your face, messy and wild in a way that made the breath catch in Carmy’s throat. You joined him at his side, smiling at the wall before you.
“My scrap wall,” you explained. “I love the idea of scrapbooks but I like seeing things everyday.” Carmy nodded, staring at your profile. The slope of your nose, the curve of your lips. He could reach out and caress your cheek… he wrenched his gaze from you and forced it to the wall. “I uh, I had no idea you were into vintage stuff.” He said.
“Likewise.” He raised his brow at you sideways and you laughed. “Loopwheel? Very Americana.” Carmy’s face felt hot. Was this real? It couldn’t be. How could you be any more perfect. You were still wearing his shirt. “Come on, I’m starving.”
Carmy had perused your fridge and pantry, settling on the dish he’d make. You sat at the little table, one leg pulled up to your chest and scratching away in a notebook before you. Music from the playlist you put on floated through the space, complimenting the ambient sound of Camry hard at work. It was so domestic. Usually, Carmy was anxious. His head pounded, his heart raced, and he could never catch his breath. But here with you, Carmy felt peaceful. It was like he’d done this a thousand times before. It was comfortable, safe. Carmy’s chest felt warm and relaxed. His mind wandered as his well practiced hands moved through the recipe. He imagined being here with you, making dinner together after a long day at the restaurant or curled up on the couch watching something on tv, how his arms would wrap around you and you’d lay your head on his chest. Little things filled his mind: going grocery shopping together, washing dishes, folding laundry, having coffee in the morning sitting in your couch and discussing vintage American icons. Sleeping beside you, feeling your skin against his, feeling your-
“Fuck!” The hot sear of the pan against Carmy’s hand snapped him out of his thoughts. You leapt to your feet, rushing over to him.
“Are you okay?!” You asked, grasping his hand in both of yours and guiding it under the stream of cold water. Truthfully, Carmy couldn’t even feel the burn. Not when your hands were on him. You cooed and tutted, closely inspecting his hand.
“I’m alright.” He assured you. You looked up at him and released his hand, much to Carmy’s dismay. You were close, the sink pressed against your back. If you took an extra deep breath your chest would brush against his. Carmy wasn’t particularly tall, but the way he looked down at you, his eyes dark and glued to yours, lips parted slightly, and his uninjured hand resting on the edge of the counter beside you, it felt like he towered over you.
“C-can I help?” You didn’t mean for your voice to come out as such a whisper, but you couldn’t help it. His proximity made you dizzy.
“No, no… it’s almost done.”
It felt like an eternity while you stared at each other. You forced yourself away, resuming your place at the table while your heart screamed at the four foot distance. The next few minutes passed in silence until Carmy set a warm bowl in front of you.
Your jaw dropped.
Carmy kicked the door to the alley open, flicking his lighter. He felt like he was going to explode. Richie’s constant bitching, the endless mess of the office and the kitchen, everything was fucked. It was fucked. Carmy ran a frantic hand through his hair. He couldn’t breathe. He took a few steps into the alley, fully intending on having a total meltdown until he heard it. A sniffle.
You sat with your back against the bricks, your head in your hands. “Hey,” Carmy tried to make his voice as gentle as he could. “Are you, um- are you okay?”
Carmy felt his heart drop out of his body when you turned your face to him. Your eyes were red and puffy, tears staining your cheeks. Shit. Shit shit shit. What had he done? How had he fucked this up already? What happened? Was it Richie? He’d kill him.
“I’m sorry, chef.” You said, wiping your face.
“Carmy.” He said, quickly. “Sorry um… just you can call me Carmy.”
You smiled softly, despite the tears in your eyes you were beautiful. “Carmy,” you tested it on your tongue. Carmy thought he’d explode hearing your sweet voice say his name. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be crying at work it’s just-” you choked up, averting your gaze and shamefully wiping your tears.
Carmy sank down to sit beside you, unsure. You sighed. “My mom uh… she’s kind of fucked up. And my brother keeps calling and screaming at me because he wants me to go home and take care of her but…” you shook your head. “I just can’t go back there, ya know?”
Carmy’s heart panged with empathy. “Yeah, I know what you mean…”
“It was so fucked up when I was a kid, though.” You stared up at the sky. “When I was 10, my mom would make carbonara every Wednesday. It was my favorite day of the week because I loved carbonara. When she started to get worse, I’d make it on Wednesdays just trying to hold onto it you know? I haven’t made it since I was a kid… I don’t know, I just… couldn’t bring myself to. I miss it though.”
Carmy let you vent but truthfully, he didn’t know what to say. It was a little too close to home for him. He just watched you. The sun on your face, the puffiness subsiding from your eyes. He looked down at the ground, worried he’d say something stupid if he kept staring at you. You sighed again. You turned your head to him with a soft smile on your lips. “Thank you for listening to me rant. It feels good to say it out loud.”
Carmy’s cheeks tingled as he met your gaze. He smiled in return, the anxiety that had driven him into the alley in the first place was a million miles away.
“Yeah, anytime.”
You stared at the bowl before you. A nest of creamy spaghetti, dusted with grated Parmesan, crispy pancetta, and vibrant green chives. You felt your throat grow tight, tears pricking at your eyes. Carmy settled in the chair across from you and you stared at him in disbelief. “Carbonara?”
Carmy was suddenly nervous. Had he overstepped? “You uh, you said you hadn’t had it in a while.”
Nothing could have prepared Carmy for the look on your face. Eyes wide at him and beaming with adoration. You opened your mouth to say something, but the words seemed to fall short so instead you lifted a forkful of the creamy noodles to your lips. You sighed with delight when it touched your tongue. “Oh my god…”
“Good?”
You nodded, vigorously. “That is the best carbonara I’ve ever had.” You shook your head with a chuckle as you continued to eat. “You’re so annoying.”
“What?” Carmy practically choked he was so confused.
You laughed again, the melodic sound easing his nerves. “You’re SO good at this. Better be careful or I’ll have to make you cook dinner every night.”
Carmy couldn’t think of anything he’d like more. The warmth in his chest was threatening to spill over as he gathered all his courage into one single word: “promise?”
Seeing Carmy outside of the restaurant already gave you butterflies, but having him in your apartment so close you could touch made your knees weak. You stood at the sink side by side washing the dishes from dinner. Your shoulders bumped every few seconds. You had just made Carmy laugh with your very strong opinions of John Lennon. You’d never heard him laugh like that before, so earnest and carefree. His shoulders seemed lighter, his eyes brighter. The stress of family and the restaurant was far behind both of you, kept out by your apartment door. You hummed, wishing this night could last forever.
“Yeah… me too.” Carmy was grinning at you, cheeks tinged red and bashful. Your eyes widened, had that been out loud?
“Sorry, I uh- I just mean um-” you looked shyly over to him. He was drying his hands, leaning against the counter with a pleased smile on his perfect lips.
“It’s okay,” he assured. Carmy stepped closer. The warmth in his chest was boiling over. He reached up slowly and tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. His hand lingered against your cheek. “I like taking care of you too.”
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droopycoquette · 7 months
Text
Coffee And Cupid || Alexia Putellas x Reader
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Summary: How you and Alexia meet
Warnings: Fluff, strangers2lovers, barista!reader
Word count: 2.0k
|*|
You smiled as you heard the small ding of the shop's door, symbolizing that a customer had entered. You continued your task of wiping off a table. 
"Hello, you came just in time I was just about to close up," you start, finally looking up. 
You saw a woman looking around the shop, taking it in. Giving you the chance to absorb her beauty. 
Alexia smiled at you when she was done taking in the cafe, soaking in the small establishment’s aura. The black counters and wooden outlines of the place gave the cafe an old, mystic vibe. The books that lined the south wall gave the area a warmth that many new or well-known cafes couldn’t claim. Then, of course, there was you. As she approached the counter she found you gave off a calm and collected yet fun and artsy energy that made you very approachable. She could feel a love for the cafe brewing in her. 
Her eyes found the menu overhead, and she let out a ‘hm’ as she figured out what she wanted, periodically glancing at you as you cleaned. 
Eventually, she realized that periodically glancing turned into just plain staring making her shake her head and focus. She needed to choose something. She set her eyes on the menu once more and quickly picked something that sounded good. She made sure to keep it simple, you were closing up after all.
You found your gaze drifting to her as well, taking in her athletic build and strong features. From her tan skin to her dirty blonde hair. 
"Hey um, I think I'm ready to order now," she called, forcing you to come back to reality. 
"Of course," you put down the washrag and made your way over to her.
"I think I'll have a turkey sandwich and then an iced americano," she said glancing between you and the menu.
"Are you sure you want an Americano this late," you asked concerned.
She was shocked. She didn't expect a person much less a worker to be concerned for her. She knew it was a little late to be drinking something with so much caffeine in it but she didn't think someone would call her out on it.
"Well, is there something you would recommend," she smiled, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.
You could tell she was taken aback.
"Um, well,” you paused to look her once over. “You look like you’d like our iced raspberry black tea.”
“Why do you say that,” she asks, glancing down at herself and then back at you.
“Well, black tea still has caffeine just not as much as an americano. You also look like you came back from some sort of work out so it should help cool you down,” you explained. 
“Wow,” Alexia gawked. “You got all of that just by looking at me?”
You blushed, “Was I right?”
She thought for a minute before answering, "Yeah. Yeah, you are. I'll take that raspberry black tea then senora, thank you."
She sat down in one of the chairs and kept her eyes on you. 
"And that's for..."
"Alexia," she finished.
You nodded once more and walked back behind the counter to begin preparing her food and drink. 
"So, what are you doing out so late," you asked as you began to brew the tea.
"Well, I was just coming home from practice, I was hungry and this place looked nice," Alexia smiled.
"Practice? What were you practicing," you asked as you set your sights on preparing the sandwich. 
"Soccer," she smiled. “I play for Barcelona.” 
You almost dropped the cup you were holding. 
“Holy shit.” 
She just nodded and smiled. 
“Well that’s cool,” you say dumbfounded. “I’m glad you came here.”
“Me too, I really like this place,” she gushed, swirling her wrist to make a point.
"If you want you can go look at some of the books while you wait," you suggested, pointing over to the bookshelves lining the wall.
Alexia nodded and went to go look a the books. She picked a random one up and quickly looked at the summary before sneaking a peek at you. She watched as you got the sandwich ready and moved around the kitchen. You looked surreal, there was something so homey about you. You were gorgeous, anyone could see that. Your white button-up with the sleeves rolled up made you look so hot yet so...mommy. She couldn’t describe it. 
Plants and flowers littered the ceiling. It gave the place a homier garden vibe on top of everything else. 
"Find anything you like," you called.
Alexia was snapped out of her daydream. 
"Um, no, not yet," she stuttered. "Is there anything here you would recommend?"
"Well," you stopped to think while you poured her tea into a cup filled with ice. “It depends on what genres you like."
"It's been a while since I actually sat down and read a book but, I remember liking romance," she answered. 
"Okay, well then I would recommend Forever... by Judy Blume. It was originally written for teens but it covers a lot of controversial topics while still holding that romantic aura. It's kind of angsty as well," you said.
"Okay," she muttered while looking for the book. 
"Also, your order is ready," you called out, bummed by how fast you had worked. 
Alexia jogged back over to the counter with the book in hand.
"Do I check this out or do I buy it?"
"You can do either," you laughed.
"Well, then I will get this with the order," she smiled.
"Alright, that will be $25.98."
She gave you $30 and told you to keep the change.
"Have a nice night, ma’am."
"You too."
|*|
Ding
The bell on the door rang, notifying you that there was a customer. 
"Hell-. Alexia! You're back," you exclaimed.
"The food was so good I just couldn't stay away," she laughed. 
"Well, I'm glad. Are you getting something different today?"
"No, I think I'll have the same thing, you really know what you’re talking about. The raspberry tea was delicious. By the way, I started that book you recommended and so far so good."
"That's wonderful! I'm glad you like it," you smiled as you began to get the tea ready.
She's here again, you thought as you busied yourself. She is so cute...and pretty...and nice...oh my god!
"Hey, I never really got your name," Alexia commented.
"How about you come back tomorrow and I'll tell you," you giggled as you began to prepare the sandwich. 
"Is this a new trick to keep getting customers to come back," Alexia teased.
"Is it going to work," you laughed.
Am I flirting? Correctly?
"Definitely," she stated.
Your cheeks warmed as you looked down at your task. You could feel her stare on you and you found it strangely comforting. Alexia could have anyone, she was good-looking, kind, well-dressed, tall, hot, momm-
"Hey,” Alexia called out. “Whatcha thinking about? Were you thinking of me?"
"How could I not," you smiled.
"Good," she giggled.
"Okay, order up! That will be 15.20," you said.
She handed you a twenty-dollar bill and headed out.
You could feel yourself falling.
|*|
Ding
"Ms. Alexia," you smiled not even having to turn around to know who it was.
"You got me," she laughed.
You had gotten her order ready so you could spend more time talking to her. 
"I'll have what I usua-"
"I know," you laughed cutting her off and handing her the food and tea. "It's on the house tonight."
"You won't get in trouble?"
"Well, unless someone else is going to tell me how to run my own place no."
Alexia stopped in her tracks.
"You own this place? That explains it," Alexia exclaimed.
The whole vibe of the café fit you to a T. The mysterious, homey, artsy atmosphere was so you. You gave this place life. If she wasn't in love with you then she was definitely now. 
She took the food from you and then leaned onto the bar counter. 
"So, are you going to tell me your name today," Alexia questioned.
"Only if you promise to keep coming back here," you stated.
She held her right hand up and crossed her heart. 
"Y/n," you smiled.
"Y/n," she repeated, liking the sound of it.
She smiled back at you and stared at you for what seemed like hours. You continued to look away and then back at her, holding eye contact has never been your strong suit. 
"I was wondering if maybe, you could teach me how to make something from the menu?"
You raised your eyebrow. Noticing your confusion, Alexia decided to take a leap of faith. 
"Like a date," Alexia stuttered. "Like cooking together, and-"
"I would love to," you giggled. 
What was this giddiness? Alexia had turned this night from great to amazing. If she could do this just standing on the other side of a counter what was she going to do when she was right beside you?
"Great," she grinned as she took off her jacket and set it on one of the tables.
"Give me a second and let me close up," you said as you left the bar and went to the door to lock the door and flip the sign from 'open' to 'closed.'  
"Is there anything on the many that you want to make particularly," you asked while you opened up the bar to her. 
Alexia passed you and you could smell her perfume. It smelt like cedar and lemongrass, you could get high off of it. 
“I don’t know,” Alexia sighed. “You’re the boss. Literally.” 
You leaned against the counter as you thought about what to make. Giving Alexia a chance to look at you more. She could spend forever staring at you, your small breaths made her shiver and your eyes made her want to kiss you. 
“We could make your turkey sandwich,” you say, thinking out loud. “It’s pretty easy and it doesn’t make much of a mess.”
“That sounds perfect,” Alexia smiles, leaning against the opposite counter. 
A beat of silence follows as you and Alexia stare at each other. Alexia can feel her heart jump as your lips part. It’s as if your breath begins to match up with one another, your very bodies wanting to be near the other. 
“Right,” you exclaim, jumping into action. “The first thing we’ll need is-”
You’re cut off by Alexia’s lips, the footballer not being able to hold herself back anymore. Her hands find your cheeks and cage your face. Her hair tickles your face and overwhelms you with its scent. You quick to kiss back, your hands finding her wrists and holding onto them sweetly. 
Alexia deepens the kiss, her arms snaking around your waist and pulling you closer.  Your arms find a home, wrapped around Alexia’s neck lazily. You could feel her smile into the kiss, her lips upturning causing you to smile too. Pulling away, you both giggle at your giddiness. 
“Are you free tomorrow night,” Alexia asks, slightly out of breath. 
“I can be.”
“Would you like to come to a game? I’m playing tomorrow and would love to have you there.”
Alexia takes a breath and holds it, mentally crossing her fingers. Imagining you in the stands cheering for her made her blush.
“I’ve never been to a football game,” you admit. “I’d love to go.”
Alexia beams. It made your heart flutter and your insides melt. You peck her lips gently before kissing her once more. Both of you begin to sway and Alexia realizes that she loves having you in her arms and kissing you. Loves how natural it feels. You find that you love being in Alexia’s arms, her muscles bulging against your frame and warming you. It was nice. It felt like home. 
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mournings-stars · 3 months
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Could I request an Alastor x reader? mostly smut, however i love fluff with aftercare and such
I was thinking the premise being of a reader who was and old friend from cannibal town coming to the hotel maybe? (cis fem reader)
hellohello! i personally don’t write smut for alastor but here’s a little fluff for you/how im comfortable writing for alastor!! its a bit of an ambiguous relationship but i hope thats fine :)
alastor x cannibal town fem reader (i may make this into a multi-part fic)
There was more than one reason Alastor brought Charlie to Cannibal Town — yes, it’s important she met Rosie, but he also had business to attend to while she did. He excused himself, heading down the street, several shops down, and into a narrow alleyway where he opened a hidden door to a small shop.
It was two small rooms and a back kitchenette. The walls of the first room were lined with bookshelves that made a narrow aisle to the back of the store. There, was an open seating area with sofas, armchairs, and a roaring fireplace across from the small register in the corner. It certainly wasn’t supposed to feel like a store where you had to buy something, but one where you could if you really wanted to.
“Welcome in!” A very sweet voice came from the back of the shop, a hint of an old, long-lost accent that made Alastor’s smile widen. “I’ll be right with you!”
“Take your time,” he hummed, and immediately heard shuffling from the other room before you stumbled into the front. “Hello, my dear!”
“Alastor!?” You gasped, lifting the hem of your skirt to rush over to him and hug him. He stiffened, a high pitched radio frequency sounding from his microphone and making you step back. “Sorry—“ You straightened out his suit jacket with a smile tugging at your lips as he watched you. When your fussing became too much, he placed a very calm hand over yours and gave you a gentle smile. You laughed under your breath and stepped back. “Sorry—“
“You said that already, my dear — and there’s no need to!” You nodded as he squeezed your hand before letting it go. “No need at all!”
“Right, right… How are you? Where have you been? I’ve… missed you.” Your excited tone dampened as you finished, clearing your throat and offering a smaller smile when it faltered. “But I’m glad to see you’re alright.”
“You were always too kind to me!” He said cheerily, walking to the second room to have a seat on the couch.
“Can I get you anything, Al?”
“Just a bit of precious time,” he said a little too sweetly, waiting for you to sit across from him. But you made yourself busy, pouring hot water over tea and preparing a plate of sweets for the two of you to share. “Tell me how you’ve been!” He said impatiently as he watched you go anywhere but toward him.
“Ah… where to start?” You hummed, leaning against the countertop. “I thought you might’ve…” You waved your hand dismissively, but as he’d gone missing just after an extermination, he understood and hummed along. “And since you never told me anything—“
“It was all so sudden, I would’ve left you a note—“
“A note?” You scoffed, but moved on when he nodded, going to get teacups for the two of you. “Anyway, I met someone.”
“Did you?” He sounded unimpressed, watching you get sugar and spoons; anything to avoid sitting down. “So quickly?”
“It took a few years.” He hummed along. “And it didn’t last—“ He laughed snidely. “—It felt very… wrong—”
“I'm sure,” he was almost too quick to say.
“And… They were exterminated, anyway.”
He looked very happy to hear that fact, but said nothing until he got his expression under control. “Shame,” he said, tone crass. “I would have loved to have met them.”
“I’m sure,” you repeated, throwing him a pointed look that he beamed at. “The years have become a bit blurry,” you continued.
“Have they?”
“I spend most of my time here, talking with Rosie. Missing you.“
“Ah, yes… You said that.” His smile dampened. “Surely you moved on?” But he was hopeful you didn’t, and he knew his hopes were answered when you stayed quiet and poured your tea. You remembered how much sugar he liked, and how much cream, not even bothering to ask before you put the cups on the plate and walked to the couches. “I always thought of you,” he admitted, taking the cup you offered, “but I could never go to you… I watched from afar.” He cleared his throat, sipping his tea and forcing his smile to stay put. “And I felt…” His eyes drifted to nothing as he thought back on those seven years. “Excruciatingly bored.”
You laughed. “Does that mean you missed me too?”
He narrowed his eyes, taking the plate from you before you could get anything else. “Why don’t you have a seat next to me?” He set the plate on the end table. “I didn’t come here to be served; I came to, finally, get the chance to see you again.” And then he offered his hand, and the small gesture of vulnerability made you understand that yes;
He missed you very much.
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starlightkun · 7 months
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❧ word count: 18.3k ❧ warnings: cursing, renjun gets CONSENSUALLY dosed with a magical aphrodisiac For Science ❧ genre: fluff, humor, one (1) heavy makeout scene but no actual smut, 0.1 seconds of angst if you can even call it that, academic rivals to lovers, modern magical creatures au, college au, siren reader, human renjun ft. siren ten, same universe as strawberry sunday ❧ extra info: in my lore, siren scales are visible when they’re in more human-like forms because of magic, and it’s not an indication of their skin tone at all. so when the reader’s scales are mentioned, please don’t take this as any sort of allusion to them being pale/light-skinned! i tried to take care and make sure i wasn’t implying that in how i wrote it, but please tell me if it reads like that this work is set in the same universe as strawberry sunday but can be read as a standalone! there is no continuing plotline between fics in this universe, they simply take place in the same world/magic system and may have overlapping characters (neos may pop up in more than one work!) ❧ author’s note: y’all. get ready for this one. no spoilers but renjun and reader r both crazy and nobody should be subjected to them except each other. like they both look at the other and think “i could fix them but whatever the fuck is wrong with them is infinitely funnier to me” but they’re both Wrong. they could not fix the other. i don't want what they have but good for them. anyway as always i had way too much fun writing this that it went over my projected word count and i hope y’all have a lot of fun reading it too
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ explore the strawberry sunday universe more here!
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“Would you shut up?” You sat back up, grabbing him by the hair.
“Why?”
“I’m trying to kiss you again, idiot.”
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2608, 2610, 2612…
The numbers of the study rooms you passed by went up, up, up, as you continued your hunt. You knew he’d be here. It was the day before the first test in your Linguistics in Magical Creatures Studies class, meaning he was going to be holed up in the library until closing time. Now it was just a matter of finding him. Somewhere quiet, obviously, which was why you’d completely skipped the first floor with its wide-open “collaboration areas.” The second floor was all bookshelves and private study rooms that would hold four or five students at most. You peered into the narrow window on each painted metal door as you walked down the hall. While the first floor was recently renovated with new technology and upgrades such as the “collaboration areas” and bright pops of your university’s school colors that made for great promotional photos to put on the website and pamphlets to hand out to new students, this floor hadn’t had seen anything more than a janitor in a good couple decades. The musty, stale smell of old, unused books was all around you, the air conditioning hummed and clicked irregularly, all the furniture had ugly, outdated patterns, and the exactly three desktop computers they did have in a far back corner were practically as old as you. Which, in the digital age, meant that they were artifacts belonging in a museum.
And of course, sitting at very last one, as if he had been hiding behind all of these bookshelves from you personally, was Huang Renjun.
Renjun was sat in the wooden chair facing the computer, clearly deep in thought. He had one foot propped up on the wide chair seat as both of his hands were on the archaic-looking keyboard, speedily typing something out. He wore a pair of jeans, yellow hoodie, and a red backwards baseball cap kept his hair out of his face. An open energy drink can and empty bag of chips on the desk next to him belied that he had already been there for some time.
Now that you had found your target, you put on a burst of speed, stalking up to him from the side and smacking your hand down on the tabletop beside him. “Renjun.”
The human jumped in his seat, looking up from his screen to you. Taking his hands from the keyboard, he made a couple quick clicks on the mouse as he used the other to take his headphones out of his ears. “Y/N. Fucking hell… is your new strategy this semester to give me a heart attack and kill me?”
“If murder was on the table as part of our little academic rivalry, don’t you think I would’ve just drowned you after our Intro course freshman year?” You asked, tilting your head innocently. After all, you were a siren, that would be much easier than scaring him into an early cardiac episode.
Huang Renjun was not your friend. Not necessarily an acquaintance either, you’d known him for going on four years now, since your first class on your first day of college. The two of you were in the same Introduction to Magical Creatures Studies class. He had sat in the very front row, you just behind him in the second row. When your professor had asked an open question to the class, both you and Renjun eagerly blurted out the answer, Renjun just a millisecond before you. Dr. Li gave him the credit, and also requested that you two raise your hands in the future. And from then on you hated Huang Renjun.
Well, hate may be a strong word. You overlapped in at least two classes every semester being in the same major, and were both chronic overachievers. The first to raise your hands when a question was asked, studying in the library until closing (separately), and visiting professors’ office hours just to discuss topics from class further. Your professors noticed this. Some would pit the two of you against each other, and others would try to pair you up, whether on projects, research, or just in general, as a meeting of the minds or whatever. And you two would get your project done, pocket your As, and part ways again. Academic rival slash frenemy was the best way you could describe who Huang Renjun was to you.
“Who knows, you might still, if they ask me to carry the banner,” he muttered, picking his pen up and spinning it between his fingers.
This was your last semester, both you and Renjun were graduating in just a few months. At commencement, each department picked one “outstanding student” to lead the progression, carrying a flag with the department’s name and seal on it. This semester it was Magical Creatures Studies’ turn to select a student for the College of Humanities and Social Sciences, and your program head had already heavily implied that they could choose either you or Renjun, but they hadn’t made their final decision yet.
This was actually a pretty good segue into what you were really here to talk to him about. Pulling your lips into an alluring smirk, you nodded, “You’re right. It doesn’t take a rocket surgeon to figure out that—”
“A fucking what?” He cut you off, his face scrunching up as he blinked at you in confusion.
“Obviously it’s going to be one of us two, since we’re the two best students in the program.”
“Well, yes.” He nodded, seeming to let go of what had presumably been another one of your jumbled human malaphors. You admittedly hadn’t been living among humans for terribly long, and for some reason their idioms just didn’t stick in your brain very well.
“I mean, we not only are dedicated to the field itself and the content we study in class, but the program too. We probably know everybody in it, professors and students, right? Between the two of us?”
Renjun considered this for a moment. “Yeah, probably. We’ve both taken on a lot of SI and tutor opportunities for lower-level classes.”
“Right. So, you know those forums the school has on the online class platform? The general message boards?”
“Yes. Why?”
“I’m going to need you to sit tight with me on this until I finish talking, okay?” You pointed at him sternly. He nodded slowly. “Good. Back in the fall, about the end of September, I was on the message boards, just browsing around killing time. I was in the Tips & Advice section and saw this post. It was a gryphon who was losing feathers on one specific spot on her wing, and she didn’t know why. The witch she went to didn’t know why, nobody could figure it out. I was about to reply asking if it was her left or right, when I saw that somebody else already had. It was her left, and she’s a lefty. The same person replied again, asking if she sleeps with her wings out or not. She sleeps with them out. It turns out she was stress-preening in her sleep. Username: dr_magic2303. A couple weeks later, same message board, Tips & Advice, a human is suddenly producing dark purple goop from his feet but it’s so slippery he can’t even leave to go see a doctor or a witch and he was typing the post from his bathroom. Within an hour, this Dr. Magic is back telling him someone’s put an aether ooze hex on him, and to sit down and scoot on his butt to the kitchen and gather up all these ingredients for a cleansing foot bath. And if he doesn’t have them, then he’ll have to butt-scoot his way to an apothecary or call one who does home deliveries. Now people are posting on there specifically asking Dr. Magic to come heal all their magical aches and pains.”
Renjun stared at you, unblinking. The pen had gone still in his hand.
You breathed in, continuing, “I tracked this Dr. Magic all the way back to their first post in the first week of fall semester of this year. Now, I’ve been trying to figure out who they are on my own, and I’ve made a lot of progress on who they aren’t. But I’m going to lose access to those message boards once we graduate at the end of the semester. I know Dr. Magic has to be an MCS major, there’s no way they would be able to have to breadth, depth, and flexibility of knowledge by just Googling this stuff. And you and me, Renjun, I know we can do this. Not only do we know MCS, but we know the department, the people in it. It has to be us.”
He was still staring at you, mouth slightly agape. Then, his whole demeanor shifted. He dropped his leg so that both his feet were on the ground, and he resumed spinning the pen.
“Okay. I’ll help you.” He nodded thoughtfully. “If you’ll do something for me.”
“Do what?” You straightened up.
“I’ll tell you after we find Dr. Magic.”
You crossed your arms. “No, tell me now or no deal.”
“I tell you after, but you can still say no then if you don’t want to do it.” He bargained.
“That just sounds even more concerning, Renjun. Tell me now or I’ll do it myself.”
“I’m hurt. What happened to ‘it has to be us?’”
“I’m a siren, I know how to sweet talk. Don’t take it personally.” You snorted. “Now, what do you want from me?”
“You’re a siren,” he echoed plainly, as if that were all the explanation you needed.
“And you’re a genius.” You retorted. “Tell me now or I walk out.”
“I... want to experience siren venom. For science.”
Oh, you could kiss him right now, no deal necessary. He was meeting your gaze head-on, a slightly unhinged glint in his eye. Not a hint of fear, just a craving for new experiences, unbridled curiosity. Yeah, he was a bit crazy, you were realizing four years on, and you wanted him.
“You’re insane.”
He leaned back in his seat, putting his hands up in front of him in an ‘I-don’t-care’ gesture, “If you don’t want to find Dr. Magic—”
“I didn’t say no, I said you’re insane,” you corrected him with a grin, dragging your eyes up and down his form as he sat so confidently, negotiating with a siren like it was any average Tuesday for him.
“So do we have a deal?” He set his pen down and held a hand out to you.
“You help me find Dr. Magic, then I’ll spit in your mouth.” You momentarily thought about the disparity in division of labor on that, but decided not to point it out aloud. Easiest handshake of your life. “Deal.”
You wanted to eat him alive.
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“You’ve tried IP tracking?” Renjun asked, scrolling through your word document of notes that you’d accumulated on Dr. Magic.
“‘You’ve tried IP tracking?’” You mimicked him under your breath, making your voice so high-pitched to the point of mocking.
He rolled his eyes.
This was your first meet-up to try to hunt down Dr. Magic together. It was a couple weeks after he had agreed to help you in the first place. There was a test and some assignments in a few of your classes to get through first before either of you had enough spare time to dedicate to this. But now the two of you were back in the library, having taken a study room on the second floor and set up with your own laptops. You’d sent him your notes to look through on it while you perused the message board for any new posts from Dr. Magic.
“You do know that any geographical location an IP address can give you will just be the city, right? It’s not like the movies,” you snorted, dropping your voice back down to your normal intonation as you shook your head. “Anyway, I did do some extra legwork with the IPs, and matched most of them to desktop computers here in the library. I think the others are a personal device, their laptop or something.”
“They’re all different.”
You tutted at him, “Oh, you sweet Thursday’s child…”
“That’s not the say—”
“They’re all somehow on other continents. Now, I don’t think Dr. Magic teleporting abroad and cross-dimensionally to make forum posts.”
“VPN?”
“Definitely. They’re covering their tracks, they almost never use their own device, and when they have to, they use a VPN to cover up the IP address of it.”
He made a noise of acknowledgement, eyes still focused on his screen.
Then, something on the forum caught your eye. “Oh! Right here. Thirty-six minutes ago, a dryad posted that she can’t sprout daffodils from her body anymore. Every other plant and flower are fine, except daffodils. She posted it specifically asking Dr. Magic if they know what’s wrong with her.”
“Huh.” Renjun’s brow furrowed. “Just daffodils?”
“That’s what it says,” you confirmed, making a few clicks on your computer. “And… ‘notify me.’”
“You can turn on notifications for forum posts?”
“You can’t,” you informed him smugly. “But one of the sirens in my pod, he’s got a bunch of CompSci friends who I paid to write a browser extension for me that bookmarks forum posts and sends me email notifications when anybody replies to them. So I’ll know exactly when Dr. Magic responds.”
“You…”
“Have definitely spent too much time, energy, and money on this, I know. Sunken cost fallacy, look it up.”
“I was going to say ‘are insane,’” he breathed out, his voice a mixture of awe and disbelief.
When you looked up from your computer at him, you saw that he had a curious gaze fixated on you, eyes narrowed slightly, mouth parted, and head tilted ever so slightly to the side.
You leaned forward minutely, holding his eye contact. “Takes one to know one, Junnie.”
He looked down at his keyboard, shifting in his seat before he looked back up at you. “Why are you calling me that?”
“Do you not like it?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“So you do like it.” You smirked.
He frowned. “I didn’t say that either.”
“Well do you?”
“Answer my question.”
“Answer mine.”
“I asked first.”
“Ooh, how very primary school,” you teased, setting your chin in your hand.
“It’s only fair.” He pointed out.
“We could flip a coin.”
“Y/N.”
“Junnie.”
The human sighed, holding your eye contact wordlessly, looking entirely unamused.
You finally gave in with a casual shrug. “I just am.”
“Seriously? We’ve known each other for four years and you’ve never called me that—you’ve called me plenty of other things—but now suddenly you’ve got a nickname for me?”
“I’m not trying to be derogatory with it, if you’re worried about that,” you clarified. “Just sort of happened. I’m a siren, I flirt with cute people, sorry. Do you want me to stop calling you that?”
He ran his fingers through his hair, pushing some off his face as he turned his focus back down to his screen. “It’s fine.”
“Anyway, I bookmarked the new forum post, so it’ll go on the board.”
“The board?”
“I, uh, I may be using a spare wall in my apartment to host a conspiracy theory board with you know, the red string and thumbtacks and stuff…” You admitted quietly.
“Can I see it?”
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“Ho-ly shit,” Renjun breathed out, staring up at the multiple time-stamped printouts of forum posts, pictures of classmates and faculty, sticky notes, and yards of red string that you had pinned to a blank wall in your apartment.
You stood next to him, gazing up at your creation with a strange mixture of pride and embarrassment. This was the first time you’d let someone see this, and you were kind of glad it was Renjun. He actually seemed impressed. You were sure that any of your friends and family would be weirded out at best, and very concerned at worst.
“Yeah, I’m adding color copies off the school printers to the invoice I’m sending Dr. Magic at the end of all this.”
“You’re sending them an invoice for your self-assigned mission to hunt them down?” He snorted.
“Yup. It’s their fault for not using their school-issued login.” You crossed your arms. “Makes them enigmatic.”
Your classmate pointed to one of the headshots. “Is that Dr. Li?”
“Did you think our scope was narrowed to just students? Faculty have access to the message boards, too. And we’ve learned everything we know from our professors, so they obviously have the knowledge and skill to be Dr. Magic.”
“And their names also start with Doctor.” He added dryly, which you took to be a joke.
You decided that it wasn’t at your expense, though, and after giving a short chuckle, continued on with your explanation of why you specifically had your program head up on the board. “When I was grilling Dr. Li for information in the fall, he was giving me very duplicitous answers. Pointed me towards a freshman who I swear didn’t even know the difference between Arctic sirens and glacial sirens.”
“You think it was a diversion.”
“Obviously.”
Renjun tapped his chin thoughtfully. “What sort of questions were you asking him?”
“I couldn’t straight up ask him if he was Dr. Magic. So I was asking him things like... other than you and me, who did he think was the best student in the program, that kind of stuff. Said that kid reminded him of you and me on that first day of Intro to MCS.” You couldn’t help but let out an indignant scoff at the idea. “Can you believe? Didn’t know the difference between Arctic and glacial sirens…”
“Who was it?”
“Some basilisk in one of his Intro classes last semester. Uh…” You snapped your fingers as you tried to remember his name. “Seunghan! Hong Seunghan!”
“Seriously?” The human turned to look at you incredulously, clearly offended at the comparison as well.
“Seriously!”
He clutched at his chest like he was about to have a heart attack. “That’s who he thinks is the next us? I was an SI for that class…”
“I know! He’s not the brightest tool in the shed, huh?”
“So close, Y/N. So close…” He sighed.
“It almost completely threw me off my search for Dr. Magic. I figured I needed to seriously step up my game in his undergrad research or something.” You shook your head at the horrible memory. “Then I realized he might have been trying to get me to do exactly that.”
“Huh.” Renjun folded his arms over his chest as he looked away, pretending not to seem interested. “You did research with Dr. Li last semester?”
“Don’t give me those kicked puppy dog eyes, you’re doing research with Dr. Kwon this semester and she’s like, my academic idol!” You pointed at him accusatorily.
“And Dr. Li is mine!”
You waved your arms in front of you, shaking yourself out of the academic envy-induced frenzy you’d gotten worked up into. “We’re getting off-topic. We’re here to catch Dr. Magic, remember?”
“Right…” He took a deep breath, turning back to the conspiracy wall.
As Renjun studied your work, you studied him. You had a strand of fairy lights clipped up above the conspiracy wall for light and ambiance (mostly ambiance), and they now lit his features from the front. He didn’t have a baseball cap on today, leaving his brown hair to fall over his forehead, down past his eyebrows and just into his eyes. He blinked and shook his head slightly. A piece had presumably been bothering him. The curving slope of the bridge of his nose, his lips, his chin that he still had one hand propped up to hold, a finger tapping against his cupid’s bow like a metronome. You listened closer, curious if it would be mimicking the beat of his heart. The tapping was just slightly slower than his heart, and would stop if he found something that he took particular interest in, then start back up when he moved on again.
Not that you were going to tell him, but you were double motivated to find Dr. Magic now. Seeing Renjun under your venom was going to be a reward all on its own. You understood full well why he felt like he needed to ask you as part of an exchange like this, but he seemed to greatly underestimate his own selling value. Which was good for you. This was a win-win-win in your eyes.
Thinking of the deal made you curious, though. He had that request ready to go almost like…
“So, do you want to be petrified by a basilisk, too?”
Renjun didn’t take his eyes off the wall. “Already have been.”
“Really?”
“My friend Mark is a basilisk. When he had just gotten his powers a couple years ago and couldn’t control them, he kept accidentally petrifying his human roommate. So I figured out when it was most likely to happen, invited myself over and hid his sunglasses. It was strange, being able to think but not speak, see but not blink, and telling my muscles to move and not having them obey.” He casually detailed what sounded like one of the most horrifying experiences ever to you, leaning in towards a specific post from November. “But it only lasted one minute and twenty-nine seconds.”
You stared at him with both admiration and alarm. “You manufactured an opportunity to get petrified.”
“I knew he wouldn’t do it if I asked. He’s a wimp. That, and he couldn’t do it on command at the time, even if he did agree.”
“Have you had your blood drank?”
“Yup.”
“Been flying?”
“How so?” His eyes flicked over to you for a second, and you were glad that you had relaxed again with the more casual conversation.
“With a gryphon, phoenix, take your pick.” You shrugged.
“Uh-huh.”
“Do you have a list for this stuff or something?”
“Written down, no. But I suppose I have a mental list.”
“Poisoned by a wyvern?”
“Would have to find one first.”
You felt your eyes bug out of your head. “You want to be poisoned by a wyvern? You know there’s no cure for that, right?”
“Yes, I took the same class that you did on them last spring.” He reminded you tersely. Your head jerked back minutely, surprised for a second that he had noticed, remembered, and brought it up. The two of you didn’t have a spat in that class, taking an ‘ignore and pretend the other doesn’t exist’ approach that semester when you could, and hadn’t mentioned it since. Seeming to realize what he’d done, Renjun rushed to move on, “So I also know that there’s no cure because they went extinct hundreds of years ago.”
“Supposedly.”
“You think they’re still out there?”
“Maybe.”
“Hm.” He stepped to the side to read over the next post from the first week of December.
You scoffed. “Okay, coming from the guy who believes in aliens.”
“We haven’t explored all of space. But we know what habitats wyverns lived in, and they’re not there anymore.”
“They could’ve adapted, gone somewhere else,” you tried to argue. “I’m not exactly splashing around the ocean right now, am I?”
“Where did they go, then?”
“I... I don’t know,” you admitted, holding yourself by your arms protectively.
“Hmph.”
You tightened your grip, swallowing hard against the lump threatening to grow in your throat. “I just don’t want to believe they’re gone, okay?”
“So this isn’t a scientific hypothesis, but some rosy daydream?” Renjun’s disapproval of the lack of academic rigor in your argument was clear in his tone as his eyes never left your wall, following a red string up to your next connection for Dr. Magic.
“I don’t want to believe that wyverns went extinct because that means that sirens could too! Alright?” You finally snapped, hands squeezing tightly around your biceps as your claws came out with the raw burst of emotion. “I know that Magical Conservation was just some class to you, but I had to sit there and take notes on how exactly the native habitats of sirens—me, my friends, my family—are shrinking, and could theoretically lead to our extinction, and then write a discussion post on it after like it was some intellectually stimulating bit of information. So yeah, maybe I like to imagine that there’s still wyverns out there somewhere, because it gives me a modicum of hope that after everything, there could still be sirens, too. Sorry that that’s not academic enough.”
The image of Renjun that you had been yelling at in front of you was wavering as tears swam in your vision. He’d turned around to listen, mouth parting as he seemed to immediately realize his mistake. The human nodded regretfully, running a hand through his hair before finally picking his words.
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to be so dismissive. I-I misread the tone of the discussion. Sirens aren’t wyverns, and you won’t meet the same fate they might have. Siren advocacy and conservation groups are making huge progress. The world now is a lot different than it was hundreds of years ago,” Renjun said, and you could hear both the remorse and firm belief in his tone. “And who knows, maybe there are still some wyverns out there. I could be wrong... it’s been known to happen before.”
You took a deep breath, your claws receding back into your fingers and just leaving your normal fingernails. As you looked down at your arms, though, you let out a sigh.
“Damn, I got myself.” You clicked your tongue in your throat regretfully, spotting a few drops of what looked like molten silver metal welling to the surface where you’d punctured your skin.
“Ooh,” Renjun winced sympathetically. “Do you have some… bandages?”
“Even better, I’ve got running water.” You started towards the door, then noted that there were no footsteps behind you. Turning back around, you looked at the human knowingly. “Do you want to watch, Renjun?”
He perked up. “Please?”
“Come on,” you jerked your head, holding your arms level as you shuffled towards your kitchen.
Thankfully, you hadn’t been nearly deep enough to get your scales, just the skin overtop. Turning the kitchen faucet on, you grabbed one of your sleeves, then looked at your classmate imploringly.
“A little help, Junnie?” You nodded towards your other arm, where the end of your sleeve was getting close to your blood.
“Oh, sure.” He surged forward to help you roll up the other one.
“I know you know this but be careful not to touch my blood,” you reminded him, finally pulling up the sleeve you’d started on well enough. Siren blood was a neurotoxin to humans—and not the fun kind like your venom, but a proper ‘kill you in an excruciatingly painful way’ kind.
“Uh-huh, got it.”
A couple drops on your left and a drop on your right had run down to your elbows, and you just managed to catch yourself so that they dripped into the sink and not onto your counter (or gods forbid, Renjun). Looking over to make sure he was watching, you stuck your left bicep under the stream of water first. The ocean blue scales that peeked through your skin shimmered in the kitchen lights directly above your head. Thankfully you hadn’t come anywhere close to nicking one of those. That would’ve actually hurt. Within a second of touching the water your skin had meshed itself back together. You turned your arm to rinse off the blood, then brought it back out to show that there was no scar left. Doing the same with the other, it healed just as quick, no mark left behind to indicate that anything had ever happened.
“Yep…” Renjun breathed out as you grabbed a hand towel and went to dry off your arms. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of that.”
“How many does that make?” You giggled.
“What?”
“How many creatures have you seen magically heal themselves? What number am I?”
“You make me sound so…”
“Like a common MCS whore?”
“I was going to say clinical, but damn, tell me how you really feel, Y/N.”
Both of you laughed, and you put the hand towel back.
“You’re the first siren,” Renjun answered your question genuinely anyway.
You hummed as you mulled this over. “I’ll take it.”
He made a dramatic motion of wiping sweat off his forehead, and you reached forward to smack his forearm. You two laughed again.
After a bout of comfortable silence, your eyes settled on him again, still thinking about exactly how you’d accidentally stabbed yourself in the first place.
“I forgive you, by the way,” you said. “I don’t think I said that.”
“You didn’t.” He nodded. “Thank you.”
“You really mean all that? You think I’ll—we’ll be okay? Sirens?”
“Of course I mean it. Or I wouldn’t have said it. It’s the most scientifically plausible. I did take that Magical Conservation class seriously, you know. I know it couldn’t have meant the same thing for me as it means to you, but I did my final paper on siren conservation projects in the Arctic. The progress that’s being made there is incredible. I-I don’t want to tell you about your own species’ problems, obviously, but—”
“I did mine on siren conservation in the tropics.” You let out a dry chuckle at the flawless symbiosis. “You can tell me about your paper sometime, Renjun.”
“And I’d love to hear about siren conservation in the tropics.”
“Ah, ‘a meeting of the minds.’” You did your best impression of Dr. Li, thinning your voice out to sound like an elderly man, which garnered a smile from Renjun. “Isn’t this what our professors always wanted?”
“Uh-oh. We’re giving them exactly what they want.” He shook his head ruefully. “Quick, you need to start yelling at me about something.”
“Well you need to say something obnoxious first.”
Another gentle lull in the conversation, and you watched as Renjun looked around your apartment a lot more carefully than when you two had first entered. Your destination then had been solely the conspiracy wall, but now he seemed to be really taking it in.
“So why don’t you have like… a fish tank or something?” He asked.
“Because that would be cruel! Imagine if someone kept you in a 2-foot by 2-foot box!” You jabbed a finger into his chest accusatorily.
He held his hands up in surrender. “You’re right. That was a stupid question.”
“I’m glad you said it, because I was about to.”
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“So why don’t you reply? To the posts.” Renjun asked curiously, back to trolling the message boards for new Dr. Magic posts. You two were holed up in your second floor study room again. “You’ve been tracking Dr. Magic so closely, you’re getting to these posts before they do, and you can help all these students, too. So why don’t you just reply instead?”
Yours and Renjun’s search for Dr. Magic had been going on for a month now, and he’d been proving himself useful. He’d finally convinced you to rule out Dr. Li as a suspect when he found a message board post made from a school computer while Dr. Li was away at a conference giving a presentation. Confirmed to be done at the exact same time. So you’d found another wrong person, but you still didn’t feel any closer to the right person. The remaining people felt like they were going to turn out to be dead ends, and there was nobody good to rule in either.
Spring break was coming up in a few weeks, which meant that commencement preparations would be starting, which meant that the colleges would be announcing who would be chosen to carry their banners, which meant the actual students who were going to be chosen would be told at least a week or two ahead of time. Every time you thought about that you wanted to bite something. Maybe there was some ancestral link between sirens and werewolves. Another paper waiting to be written.
“They don’t want me. They want Dr. Magic.” You told Renjun, hating the irritable edge in your voice when you addressed him. You weren’t upset with him, you were just anxious in general. He didn’t deserve to have you take it out on him.
“Right. Sorry…”
“No, Renjun, I’m sorry,” you sighed, taking the wood pencil out of your mouth that you had been gnawing on. “I just want to get this Dr. Magic stuff over with before midterms because you and I are both going to get super busy studying for midterms, and then no matter which one of us gets picked to carry the banner, that’s going to suck up a lot of time preparing for commencement too. I shouldn’t have snapped at you though, sorry.”
He offered you a small smile. “It’s okay, I get it. It’s another deadline. But it’s a group project, remember? We’ve got this, Y/N.”
You nodded. “Yeah, I know. Just feeling the pressure. I’m going to get something from the vending machine. You coming?”
“No, I’ll keep chugging along.”
“Okay. You want anything?”
“Nah. Thanks, though.”
“Alright,” you nodded, standing up and rolling your neck out. “I’m going to stretch my legs while I’m up, so I’ll be a few.”
“I won’t sound the alarm then.” He gave you a two-fingered salute as you headed to the door.
You meandered around the second floor, taking your sweet time to get to the stairs. There was a vending machine on the second floor, but it had a limited selection. The good snacks were all in the vending machines on the first floor, by the collaboration zones. Your back cracked all on its own as you plodded down the steps, and you let quiet groans with each one, until you finally landed on the first floor. There was a noticeable hum to the first floor, which only increased as you neared the two-thirds of the floor that was taken up by the collaboration zones. The vending machines were on the boundary of the bookshelves and the open spaces filled with tables and TV monitors and so many students.
Stopping in front of the drinks machine first, you mused over the options for a moment. Picking out your preferred seaweed-infused iced tea—an option you only saw sirens and the really hardcore human health-nuts drink—you then sidestepped to the snacks. It took you just a second to select a pack of mini peanut butter sandwich cookies. Neither peanut butter nor peanuts themselves were in the regular diet of a siren, but Renjun sometimes had the cookies on him for one of his werewolf friends and you’d picked up a taste for them. You would’ve never considered even trying them before hanging out with Renjun. Being an MCS major, you didn’t like to admit it, but your social circle wasn’t very diverse species-wise. You had your siren pod, and you were very happy sticking with them, thank you. Renjun, meanwhile, seemed to be best friends or friendly acquaintances with everything except a wyvern. You knew plenty about other species, after all, you excelled in class. But practical experience, you were finding you seemed to be lacking in. Maybe you should start your own Renjun-esque bucket list. Something to consider after finding Dr. Magic.
Taking a step back over to the drinks machine, you made the split-second decision to get Renjun’s favorite non-caffeinated, non-alcoholic drink. Honeydew melon soda. He had already said that you didn’t need to get him anything, but you wanted to.
“Hey, Y/N!” A cheerful voice greeted you, and you spun around, your two drinks and bag of sandwich cookies in hand.
You already knew who it was going to be, smiling at the familiar face of Ten. He was not only another siren, but specifically a siren from your pod, ocean blue scales and golden eyes matching your own. You threw your arms around his neck to give him a hug. “Ten! Ah, hey!”
“Are those… peanut butter?” He looked at the snack in your hand suspiciously.
“Uh, human study buddy,” you brushed off his concerns nonchalantly.
“Right, gotcha.”
The two of you usually hung out a lot—about as much as you and Renjun were together now, you figured—but since your spare time had been taken up with putting the search for Dr. Magic on full throttle, you were blanking on the last time you’d seen him. The beginning of the semester. Oh shit, you felt so guilty now.
The apology immediately started spilling out of your mouth, “Gods, I am so sorry we haven’t hung out, I wish I could say it was classes, or even research or something, but I’ve got this project. I can’t even really explain it without sounding crazy but—”
“Woah, Y/N, it’s okay,” Ten reassured you with a laugh, the same bright smile on his face as always. “I know how you get when you get really into one of your projects. Just let me know when you’ve finished it, and we can hang. Or if you ever need a break from it, too. It’s fine. If you weren’t a little crazy and obsessive, I wouldn’t be able to recognize you.”
He ruffled your hair with a snicker for good measure, and with your hands full of food, you couldn’t fight back, just huff and try to duck out of the way. But he was genuine about his sentiments, which really did make you feel better.
“Thanks, Ten. I’ll get in touch soon, I promise. I think I’m almost done!” You told him proudly.
“Soon in normal person time or soon in Y/N time?”
“Me time…”
“That’s what I thought. I’ll see you in six months then.”
“I’m not that bad!”
“Remember when I wondered aloud if sirens at the North and South poles were related, and you ended up spending our entire winter break researching that?”
“It only took four weeks!”
“You said it would be a quick search.”
“Exactly! People will dedicate their entire lives to that kind of research! I vastly condensed it!”
He shook his head fondly at the memory, elbowing you gently. “Get back to your project so you can finish early again and we can hang out soon, okay? And scoot, I’m trying to use the vending machine. You’re always in my way, I swear.”
You playfully pretended to block him, laughing as he nudged you out of the way with his shoulder. Starting back off towards the stairs, you turned around to give a cheery, “See you, Ten!”
“Bye, Y/N!” He waved to you with one hand, punching in the vending machine code with the other.
In better spirits having seen your friend, you traipsed up the stairs with extra pep in your step. Except Renjun wasn’t in your study room. Huh. Well, nothing in the rules saying a guy can’t take a bathroom break.
Setting his melon soda down next to his laptop, you plopped back down in your chair and kicked your feet up on the table. You ripped open your peanut butter sandwich cookies and cracked open your tea. The cookies were sweet, and while you didn’t have any oceanic reference for what peanut butter tasted like (you were told that “nutty” was a flavor profile unto itself, which wasn’t very helpful), you had decided that you liked it.
Waking your laptop back up, you saw that you had a new email, and shot up in your seat when you saw the subject.
dr_magic2303 replied to a post.
8 minutes ago.
Holy fucking shit, 8 minutes ago. While you were in the library? They could still be there. You looked around frantically. Where the fuck was Renjun when you needed him? Shooting to your feet, you snatched your phone from the table and rushed to throw the door open. Into Renjun’s face.
He stumbled back, holding his face as he let out a string of curses.
“Shit! Sorry, Junnie!” You didn’t sound all too sorry as you bounced on your feet, antsy to get a move on with your search. “No time for an ice pack though. Dr. Magic just replied to that dragon post we had bookmarked eight minutes ago. Which means that they’re probably still in the library! We need to go look for them right now!”
You took off in the direction of the desktop computers on this floor, keeping your voice at a fervent whisper-yell. The second floor computers were their favorite, according to the IPs.
“I know!” Renjun hurried after you, still clutching his nose. “I saw the email, and I tried to call you, but you left your phone in the study room.”
Checking your phone, you did in fact have a missed call from Renjun from 6 minutes ago. Well shit.
“So I went to go get you, but you weren’t at the vending machines, so I came back up to the study room and then nearly got my nose broken.”
You looked over your shoulder at him with wide eyes. “You went to get me? Not look for Dr. Magic on the freshest lead we’ve ever had? When they were quite possibly around the corner?”
The two of you had arrived at the desktops, and there was nobody in sight. One was awake, on the account login screen, the other two asleep on the ancient screensavers. You let out a heavy sigh, looking over at Renjun.
“I went to get you because this is your thing, not mine. I don’t know, I’d figured you’d want the satisfaction of taking the mask off them.”
You nodded. “Thanks, Junnie. Next time, though, just get them.”
“And how about you keep your phone on you?”
“So we both fucked it up.”
He gave you a one-shouldered shrug. “There’s still three more floors, Y/N.”
“Right, come on. You take the first, I’ll go up to the fourth since I smacked you with the door.”
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The other floors were busts, and when you finally met back up with Renjun in your study room, you were glad to have your cold bottle of tea waiting for you. Knocking back a third of it in one go, you let out a noise of relief. Renjun had already opened the soda you’d gotten him.
“Thanks, by the way.” He held it up gratefully before taking a sip.
“You’re welcome.”
“And, I’m sorry. That I let Dr. Magic get away.”
“We don’t even know what floor they were posting from yet. They’ve could’ve been on the fourth floor and would’ve been gone by the time you got there anyway.” You brushed away his apologies. “Or they could’ve been on the second and been a psycho and you would’ve been a poor defenseless human all by yourself.”
“Oh, right, without my big strong siren to protect me.” He scoffed. “Woe is me.”
“Exactly,” you laughed, shutting your laptop. “Anyway, I’ll take a look at the IP later. Who knows, they might not have even been in the library. Might’ve been one of those rogue VPN posts.”
“Yeah, maybe.” He looked over you packing up your things. “You heading out?”
You nodded, zipping up your bag and tossing it onto your shoulder. “Prior arrangements. Sorry to cut this short, completely forgot about it when we agreed to meet up.”
“You’re so popular.”
“I know!” You mimicked his sarcastic tone, holding the door open with your foot as you stopped in the threshold. “Oh, hey— the midterm in MCS Linguistics. It’s my only one this semester, I’ve just got papers in all my other classes. Do you want to study together for that?”
“Yeah, sure, sure.”
“First session Saturday? My place for lunch?”
Renjun grimaced, presumably remembering your typical stock of pantry items tailored to a siren’s food preference. “I’ll pack a lunch.”
“Cool. See you in class, Junnie!” You waved to him cheerily as you took off for the faculty advisor meeting with Dr. Kwon that you were going to need to run across campus to be on time for.
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“What is it?” Renjun set his book down where he was sat across your coffee table from you, an inquisitive eyebrow quirked up at you.
“What? Nothing.” You bit down on your lip, eyes boring holes into your computer screen.
“No, it’s not ‘nothing.’ You’ve been staring at me ever since I got here, while also refusing to make eye contact with me. What? Something in my teeth? My hair look bad?”
Normally that would’ve made you chuckle—he was wearing a backwards baseball cap again today—but you just bit down harder on your lip and shook your head.
“Now you’re refusing to talk?” He scoffed. “Did you get hexed or something? I can’t believe you’re refusing to talk.”
“No, I can talk,” you insisted. “What uh, what’d you get for number four? On the review packet?”
“Don’t tell me you’re still stuck on number four. Y/N, I’m almost done, and there’s twenty-five questions on this.”
“I’m not, I finished and went back, it was just one that I didn’t—”
But Renjun had grabbed your computer and turned the screen around, and you knew he could see that you had only done the first one. You buried your face in your hands, your skin prickling uncomfortably with shame. Your friend’s sigh was audible, but surprisingly, the next thing said wasn’t a string of derision. Instead, you heard the shuffle of clothes against your rug, and then he was sitting shoulder-to-shoulder and knee-to-knee with you.
“Y/N, what’s going on with you today? Or, not today, the past couple days? You weren’t all there in class yesterday either. I left it alone then because it was Dr. Hyun, and nobody is ever all there for her classes but— what’s wrong?”
You slowly shook your head.
“You can’t tell me?”
You nodded.
“Okay. Is it bad? Like, dangerous?”
You shook your head.
“Alright, that’s good.” The relief was audible in his voice. “Is it family? Or, pod?”
You shook your head.
“School?”
You nodded.
“Alright, yeah. A lot going on. Is it like burn out?”
You shook your head.
“So, new stuff?”
You nodded.
He put an arm around your shoulders. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I know you already had a lot. Getting this midterm over with will be one more thing off your checklist, right? That’ll open a spot for this new thing.”
With a sniffle, you nodded.
“Ah, but you’re not going to be any good studying like this.” He sighed again, dropping his arm from around your shoulders and his presence shifted away from your side. “Come on, quick field trip. Then we’ll come right back to the MCS Linguistics grind. Sound good?”
You finally took your hands from your face to look up. Renjun was standing right next to you, offering you a hand. You tentatively put yours in his, and he tightened his grip to pull you up to your feet.
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The two of you ended up in a froyo shop down the street from your apartment. You gleefully picked a gummy shark off the top of your swirl, biting the head off first before tossing the rest in your mouth. Renjun lifted a meticulously curated spoonful of froyo and toppings to his mouth, satisfaction on his face as he tasted his perfect bite. You watched in amusement as he went to start creating his next scoop that had the precise ratio of yogurt and every single topping he had chosen—each partitioned to their own area atop the froyo. You decided to save your second big gummy shark for last, and took a big spoonful from the melting edge of your froyo.
“Why not me?” Renjun asked abruptly, his gaze still on the dessert in front of him.
“Huh?” Your jaw dropped. How could he have known what—
“You haven’t asked me if I’m Dr. Magic. Why not?”
Ah, Dr. Magic. Of course.
“You were my first guess, and the first person I ruled out back in like September,” you admitted with a shrug.
His head snapped up at that. “What? Why?”
“Because you’re such an arrogant, neurotic overachiever that you’d want credit if you did all this. You wouldn’t use an alias.”
“Oh. Huh.” Renjun looked between you and his froyo, a sheepish smile coming to his face. “Strangely, that makes me feel better.”
You watched a dollop of froyo fall off your spoon and plop back into your cup. “And I nabbed your IP address off your laptop the first time we hung out in January and double-checked it with every Dr. Magic post. Just in case.”
“When I was in the bathroom?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Of course you did.”
“Were you taking it as an insult to your intelligence that I had apparently not considered you as an option?”
“Maybe…”
You laughed, and laughed, and laughed. You laughed so hard your sides hurt, there were tears in your eyes, and you genuinely started wheezing. Renjun pretended to roll his eyes, but you saw the smile on his face and knew what he was thinking: success, no more mopey siren.
Once you had enough air back in your lungs to talk, you pointed your spoon at him firmly. “See? Just proving my point. You want people to know you’re smart.”
He crossed his arms. “As if you don’t.”
“Oh, I definitely do. But I know I’m like that.” You put a hand over your chest, looking him dead in the eye. “Do you?”
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With your head screwed back on the normal amount, you and Renjun were able to dive back into your study session at your apartment. Several hours into it, though, you noticed Renjun blinking like way too much and constantly rubbing at his eyes. It was to the point where it was distracting for you.
“What’s wrong with your eyes?” You asked bluntly.
That immediately burst the Renjun griping dam (which was really held together with tape and prayers anyway). “The screens hurt my eyes and human blue light glasses don’t do shit and no fairy has let me try theirs out. I know I should probably just take the plunge and buy them but I really can’t justify the price and—”
“Try mine.” You stood up, walking over to a display shelf on the other side of the living room.
“You have a pair? Why? Sirens don’t—”
“You collect magical experiences. I collect magical things.” You said nonchalantly, grabbing the pair of silver frames from where they sat between a phoenix feather (a gift) and a small wristwatch that would tell the correct time until it was put on, then it would be set on the time and date most significant to the wearer in that moment until it was removed. Walking back over to him, you held them out to him insistently, “Here, try them.”
“Oh. Thanks.” Renjun gingerly took them, sliding the arms over his ears and the frames onto the bridge of his nose. The pair you had was a little older, admittedly. You’d picked them up at a novelty shop, so they had some retro charm to them. An older style of frame, thicker lenses. But you thought it added a quaintness to their look. Especially on Renjun, he just looked downright adorable in them.
You sat back down to watch with your head in your hand as his brown eyes blinked from behind the thick lenses, and he looked around your living room like a newborn woodland animal. His face had already relaxed, and he turned his focus down to his laptop screen next, messing with the brightness up, then down. After that, he took out his phone, doing the same with that device.
“Well?” You prompted him, though you truly would’ve been content with watching him look around as if he’d been born colorblind and it were his first time seeing in color. Which, you had an enchanted pair for that too, but he wasn’t colorblind to your knowledge.
The human looked at you, a giddy smile stretching across his face. “They’re perfect! Thanks, Y/N!”
His hand reached up to take them off, but you stopped him.
“Keep them—”
“No, these had to be so expensive!” He protested immediately.
“Just for a week or so,” you finished your sentence pointedly. He was cute, but not that cute. “Make sure you really like them before you buy, okay? If you end up hating them, give them back. If you like them and buy your own pair, you can give them back whenever yours arrive in the mail.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, it’s not like I’m using them. Superior siren eyesight.” You tapped next to one of your eyes for emphasis.
“Thanks for not rubbing it in or anything.”
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Scrambling to dial Renjun’s number, you put your phone on speaker as you fervently flicked through all of your Dr. Magic notes. You’d been laying in bed binging some mindless baking competition to numb your brain from all the studying you’d been doing when an email notification had popped up alerting you to a new Dr. Magic post.
“Y/N?” Renjun answered the phone, sounding utterly confused. “What’s—”
“New Dr. Magic post. I ran the IP and they’re in our city!” You blurted out.
“Okay… Well we already knew that, right?”
“Yeah, but this is an IP in our city that they posted from at midnight on a Saturday. Not any of the school computers.” You hit CTRL + F, typing in the string of numbers to quickly cross reference it with your extensive list. “This could be their IP. Like, their actual one, from a personal computer.”
“Oh, yeah. Could be.”
“Can you give me a little more enthusiasm here, Junnie? Did I wake you up or something? It’s only—” You stopped like you’d just walked face-first into a brick wall, eyes locked on the search result.
“Yeah, only quarter after midnight,” he scoffed.
You clicked the next arrow on the search bar, but that was the only match. 1/1 results.
“Y/N?” Renjun called for your attention. “You there?”
You hung up.
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Not wanting to lose your nerve, you pressed the doorbell over and over insistently. You could hear the complaining tone of the occupant before his words were even audible.
“Christ, I have neighbors, you know?” Renjun swung open the door with a scowl. The human was in a big, slouching hoodie and pajama pants. His hair was stuck up in a couple different directions, making you think he might’ve just woken up. Except behind him, you could see that his kitchen light was on, and a couple books and his laptop were open on his kitchen table. Late night studying. And the fact that you’d just talked to him on the phone fifteen minutes ago.
“Can I come in?” You requested, fidgeting with the sleeve of your cardigan.
His face immediately softened. “Yeah, of course.”
“Sorry to just show up like this,” you said as you took off your shoes by the front door before following him further into his apartment.
“It’s okay.” He stopped you two in the kitchen, picking up a colorful, patterned cardboard box. “Uh, I was just about to make a midnight snack. Pizza bites, you want some?”
“I… don’t think I’ve ever had them.”
“Perfect, you can try one now then.”
“Mm,” you made a non-committal noise, leaning against his kitchen counter to watch him pour out the frozen food onto a baking sheet.
The oven beeped, and he put the tray in before pressing a couple more buttons.
“So, I was thinking about the Dr. Magic stuff. Not the IP stuff but like… What even is your plan for when you do find Dr. Magic?” Renjun asked as he put the remaining pizza bites in his freezer.
“What do you mean?”
He leaned against the countertop across from you, though in the narrow space of his kitchen, you were practically knee-to-knee. “Like, say we finally find out who they are, we run up to them in the library or on campus or something. Then what? What are you going to do? What are you going to say? You’ve done all this, and I know why you had to. I get it. But, do you know what you’re going to say to them?”
“Probably something along the lines of…” You trailed off, giving an exasperated sigh. Dropping your chin to your chest, you groaned, “Gods, I don’t know.”
“Hey, that’s why you got me. So you can bounce ideas off someone, do a dry run.”
“I thought the words would just come to me, and now that I’m trying, I can’t—”
“It’s fine, Y/N. Let’s think about why you did this. I know it’s really hard to put into words. I mean, I know why you did. I get it. It’s that need to know. Not because you can, but because you have to, right? It’s curiosity in its rawest form. So obviously it’s not going to be some schmaltzy ‘haha I caught you’ spiel or anything.”
Looking up from the kitchen tile to Renjun’s eager features, you shook your head in disbelief. “You’re still helping me… when I know it’s you, Junnie.”
He tilted his head to the side, a comical noise of confusion coming from his mouth, “Uh?”
“I know it’s you, and you know that I know that it’s you.”
“You already ruled me out, because I’m an arrogant—”
“Junnie, you made a post on the forums from your laptop. No VPN. When you knew I was still tracking Dr. Magic’s IP on every post they made, and that I had your IP. That’s not a whoopsie that you make unless you want to be caught.”
The human crossed his arms over his chest, but otherwise seemed entirely calm about being caught. “And you didn’t come in here guns blazing now that you’d caught me, either. Why?”
“I didn’t know how to say it. I mean, you’re right, I only did all this because I needed to know.”
“And now you know.”
“Why now? Why just give up now?” You asked with a shake of your head. “You started posting as Dr. Magic back in August, and I came to you in January. You knew everything I was doing; you could have cruised through the rest of the semester and I’d have never caught you.”
“You wanted to find out who it was by midterms. One less thing on your plate.”
“And now I know…”
“So how does it feel? Finally catching Dr. Magic?”
You wrinkled your nose and sighed, “Bit disappointing. I was right on my first guess.”
“And you immediately dismissed me out of hand for being an arrogant, neurotic overachiever on your first guess,” he pointed out.
“Yeah, but I didn’t really know you then. If I’d known you then like I know you now, I would’ve known as soon as I saw the first post.”
Renjun batted his eyes teasingly. “Aww, Y/N…”
“Doctor underscore magic two, three, zero, three? Twenty-three, oh-three? That’s your birthday, Junnie,” you deadpanned.
“Right.”
Pushing off the counter to stand up straight again, you said, “Anyway, you did help me find Dr. Magic. So, my turn.”
“Oh, no, you seriously don’t have to do that. I rigged the deal—”
“Yeah, about that.” You took a step forward. “How did you think that was going to end up for you, anyway? Were you going to sell somebody else out as Dr. Magic and hope I wasn’t going to talk to them? Spit in your mouth first and ask questions later?”
“I was thinking on my feet.”
“Maybe think laying down next time, Junnie.”
“Ouch.”
“Anyway, come on, you’ll want to sit down for this.” You grabbed his wrist, pulling him towards the living room.
“You don’t need to feel like you have to do this,” he reassured you.
Stopping the two of you in front of the couch, you turned to face him with a smirk. “Believe me when I say that it is going to be a treat unto itself for me to see you under the effects of siren venom. M’kay?”
Renjun’s surprise was evident on his face. “Oh.”
You stepped closer to him, delicately placing a hand on his chest. “Now unless you want me to literally spit in your mouth, I’m going to have to kiss you, to administer the venom.”
His eyes flicked between the hand you had on his chest and your face as he replied. “I’m okay with that—the kissing—if you are.”
“Renjun, I’ve been ready to eat you alive since you said the words ‘I want to experience siren venom for science’ to me.”
“Really?”
“Mhm. So why don’t you sit?” You guided him with the hand against his chest to sit back against his couch. Swinging one leg over his hips, then the other, you lowered yourself onto his lap. “Is this okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he nodded, tentatively settling his hands on your thighs. “Is this okay?”
“More than.” You smiled, looping your arms around his neck. “Now, a couple things, before we get started.”
“We haven’t started?”
“You’ll know it when we do.”
“Right.”
“I know you think you know what siren venom is like, but whatever scientific articles you’ve read, or documentaries you’ve watched, or slides you’ve studied under microscopes in lab, cannot actually prepare you for what it’s like. Which, I imagine is why you want to experience it for yourself.” You smirked down at him as you watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down with a gulp. “So before I actually dose you up with it, I need you to tell me what you’re actually okay with doing and what you’re not. Because once you get my venom in you, you’re going to want to let me do anything and everything to you, up to and including kill you, remember?”
“Well that’s off the table.”
“Good to know,” you snorted, running a fingernail down the nape of his neck. You felt a shudder go through him. “Is this okay?”
“Y-Yeah.” He seemed to be fighting to keep his eyes open. You halted your motions to let him think, and watched in amusement as he blinked his mind clear.
Once enough time had passed, you prompted him, “So?”
“I think just kissing,” Renjun answered. “Like, making out, or whatever. If you want…”
You snickered. “What part of ‘eat you alive’ was I unclear about?”
“The ‘eat’ part, actually. How literal is that?”
“Guess you’ll find out,” you teased. Then, you focused again as you sat back a little. “Okay, making out. Making out means different things to different people. So… we know kissing’s on the table. Tongue?”
“Yeah.”
“Teeth?”
“Where?”
“Waist up. You got somewhere you don’t want them?”
He took a moment to think about this. Then shook his head. “No. You can use them. Anywhere.”
“Same goes for you. Hickies?”
“Giving or receiving?”
“Both. You first.”
“Both are okay. You?”
You were already zeroing in on his neck and a small part of his collarbone peeking out from under his hoodie. “Same. Touching over clothes?”
“Okay, as long as you don’t think it’ll be too much with the venom…”
“Oh, Junnie, everything is going to be too much.” You grinned down at him.
His breathing had picked up pace as the two of you were talking. “You? The touching?”
“Good. Great. Touching under clothes?”
Renjun squirmed underneath you, but maintained your eye contact. “Just under my shirt.”
“Smart boy,” you said approvingly. “Me too.”
“Is that it?” He asked quietly, eyes now flicking down to your lips.
“I think so…” You looked around the room to buy a couple extra seconds of thinking time. When you hadn’t come up with anything else, you looked down at the human below you once more. “Ready, Renjun?”
“Yes.”
You took one final look over him like this, how much he already wanted you before he’d even gotten any of your venom in him, and dragged the tip of your tongue over your bottom lip instinctually. His heartrate jumped, and you wondered if it was fear—if the motion had reminded him perhaps of a hungry predator—or need. Or maybe a bit of both.
But you couldn’t tease him nor yourself any longer, swooping down to connect your mouths. You started off with just a couple light, closed-mouth kisses, to ease him into it. You heard him inhale quickly through his nose, his grip on your thighs tightening minutely. Swiping your tongue across the seal of his lips, you were delighted when he immediately parted his mouth in response, his tongue seeking yours out. You hummed contentedly into his mouth as you started stroking a fingernail down the back of his neck again. At the same time, your venom was beginning to mix in with your saliva, being passed onto Renjun.
Once his jaw started going slack in the kiss, and his hands slowly slid off your legs entirely to rest lamely at his side, you deemed him plenty dosed up. Consciously, you blocked off your venom glands once more. When one particularly drawn-out scratch down the back of his neck finally elicited a noise from him, an involuntary whine, you felt something in you snap. You needed more of that.
“So this is what siren venom feels like…” He mumbled breathily, letting his head loll back against the couch cushion as you kissed a path down his jawline and neck. When you felt his breath hitch in his throat over one particular spot, you decided to take your time there, sucking and nipping a mark into his skin.
When humans were… locked in a lover’s embrace, they let off a certain perfume distinguishable only to sirens—which was what made them the favored prey of sirens for so long. A human under the influence of siren venom? Delectable. And every human’s was unique too, so Renjun under the influence of your venom? Absolutely addictive.
With each kiss you stole from his lips, every nip you left on his neck that you then soothed over with your tongue, you got another taste of it. A sweetness that came with a bite, like ginger candy.
Renjun was still talking, though, his vocal cords vibrating under your lips. “My-My heart’s beating so fast, and I’m so warm—that’s so the ocean water doesn’t feel cold, of course—”
“Would you shut up?” You sat back up, grabbing him by the hair.
“Why?”
“I’m trying to kiss you again, idiot.”
“Oh. Right.” He closed his mouth, looking up at you with glassy eyes, waiting. Gods, he was so pretty like this.
You crashed your lips back on his, a mess of teeth and lips and tongue as he tried to keep up with you. But you knew that your venom was in full effect now, every single one of his nerve endings was approximately three and half times more sensitive. So you were sure it was all a little overwhelming. But he was definitely trying his best, kissing sloppily into your mouth with hungry, desperate whines.
Pulling him back off with your grip in his hair, you traced a thumb over his kiss-swollen bottom lip, cooing over how fucked-out he looked like this. “Oh, baby. Oh, poor Junnie. What’s wrong? Can’t even kiss me properly because it feels too good? Baby’s overwhelmed with just a little bit of kissing?”
He opened his mouth wider, darting the tip of his tongue out to brush against the pad of your thumb. You pushed the finger in his mouth, groaning as he immediately closed his lips around it. “Gods, you’re perfect, Junnie.”
Taking your thumb back out of his mouth just to grab his chin with the same wet digit, you attacked his lips with yours again. Ginger candy. His hands that had been lamely resting at his sides the entire time now fumbled at something in the area where your hips met.
“What? What are you trying to do, baby?” You asked, leaning back to look down. He was grabbing at the hem of his hoodie, unsuccessfully yanking it up towards his head as part of it was stuck under one of your thighs.
“‘m too hot. Please…” He panted, dropping it as he looked up at you pleadingly.
You nodded slowly in understanding, knowing that one of the effects of the siren venom was an increase in body temperature, not to mention what you two were just doing. The collar of another shirt was visible underneath the sweatshirt. “Okay, Junnie, we can take your hoodie off. But only the hoodie. Your other clothes are staying on, understood?”
He nodded quickly, hips bucking up against you. Sweat was beading up on his forehead, his hair getting stuck to the damp skin. You shifted back on his lap so that none of the sweatshirt was under you anymore, grabbing the hem and reaching behind him to yank up from underneath him as well.
“Sit forward for me, baby?” You requested in his ear sweetly.
Renjun obliged as best he could, leaning forward to get his back and shoulders off the couch. You pulled the hoodie up over his head, tossing it off to the side, leaving him in a black t-shirt that certainly couldn’t be helping much either. But having that heavy layer off seemed to provide some relief for him, as he let out a sigh, falling back against the furniture again.
You giggled as you settled back into the crux of his lap again, lacing your fingers together behind his neck. “Is that better now, Junnie?”
He shook his head, and you arched an eyebrow curiously.
“Oh? What’s wrong, then?”
Renjun tugged gently at your cardigan where it had shrugged down to show one of your shoulders. “Please?”
Pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth, you thought this over. You had a tank top on under the cardigan, and both of you were still wearing everything else. Not to mention that you were starting to get a bit warm too. Sirens ran naturally cooler than humans, so you were sure that to him, you felt practically refreshing right now, but you honestly were a bit hot for a siren’s tastes.
Giving a contemplative hum first, you finally relented, “Alright, Junnie. But just my sweater. Everything else stays on, because we didn’t talk about that before the venom, do you understand?”
He rushed to strip you of the knit cardigan, his mouth following his hands’ path down your skin. First on your shoulder, then down your arm. You let the garment drop on the floor behind you as he kissed back up along your shoulder, then over the fabric of your tank top until he got to your collarbone, and finally the hollow of your throat. Fondly stroking the back of his head, the pleased purr that had started in your chest turned into a surprised moan when he licked a long stripe up your throat.
Holding his face in your hands so that your noses brushed, and your lips barely ghosted over each other, you let your breaths mingle in the meager space afforded. Renjun ended your little anticipation game quickly, kissing you tongue-first, and you kissed him back just as eagerly, sucking on his tongue with lewd, wet noises. He moaned into your mouth, his hands grabbing at your waist for purchase first, then slipping and curling into the material of your shirt, bunching it in his fists.
Slowing the pace of your kisses, you eventually sat back, appraising the state he was in. You affectionately ran a hand through his hair as you took in his blown pupils, kiss-swollen lips, and pink cheeks. “Junnie? How are you feeling? Need a break?”
You hadn’t given him another dose of venom since the initial one, which wasn’t very large to begin with. But this was his first time experiencing it, so you wanted to check in. He should be just past the peak of it by now, starting to come down but for all intents and purposes still very much intoxicated. Siren venom wasn’t meant to last very long, after all, it took an adult human less than a minute to drown.
“Need you…” He insisted, arching up towards you.
Indulging him in one, two more feverish kisses, you pulled away once again. “I know, baby. And you’ve been doing so good for me. So I need you to tell me if you need a break. Okay?”
“’kay.” He agreed before you sealed your mouth over his again.
Kissing down from his mouth to just under his jaw, at the same time you trailed a finger down the center of his front until it got to the hem of his t-shirt.
He nodded fervently before you could say or do anything more. “Please… please…”
“Shh, shh, shh,” you quieted him down gently. “Doing so good for me, Junnie. The best.”
You slipped your hands under his shirt, just to stroke his waist. His muscles tensed under your touch, and he let out a sound of satisfaction. He grabbed at your thighs again, but you couldn’t tell if it was an attempt at reciprocity or to have something sturdier to ground himself to than your flimsy tank top. The corner of your lips quirked up as you pressed a couple more kisses down his neck to hover your lips over his pulse point, content to start a new mark there as your hands continued to explore under his shirt. It was when you gently raked your nails down over his pecs that you got the loudest moan out of him yet, and you groaned in response.
“Gods, you’re perfect,” you nuzzled your nose into Renjun’s neck, then pressed a couple relatively chaste pecks to his cheek. “Just perfect…”
Taking your hands back out from his shirt, you silenced his whine at the loss of contact by slotting your lips together once more. You cupped his face with one hand, using the other to take one of his hands off your leg and lace them together, palm to palm. This seemed to make him content once more, especially when you brought your connected hands up to the back of the couch, pinning his behind his head. He squirmed under you, letting out a familiar noise of pleasure into your mouth and squeezing your hand tightly.
You knew the venom was well and truly starting to wear off when Renjun began keeping pace with your slow, lazy kisses, his mouth not as sloppy but no less delightful as it moved in tandem with yours. The thumb of the remaining hand on your thigh started to stroke over your skin, and the hand that you were holding gave yours a gentle squeeze. You gave him one, two last lingering kisses, drinking in the dwindling taste of ginger candy while you could, Renjun matching you beat for beat.
Unlacing your fingers and dropping your hand from his face, you drew back from him. Before you could say anything, though, Renjun grabbed you by the back of the neck and pulled you in for one more kiss, sinking his teeth into your already tender, over-kissed bottom lip. You gasped into his mouth, which gave him the perfect opportunity to intertwine his tongue with yours again on his apparent mission to try to kiss the breath from you. A nigh impossible task for a human to do to a siren, but it definitely felt like he was succeeding. He was crushing his lips against yours so hard you were worried about him drawing blood—not because you would mind the pain, but for fear of his safety if he got a direct hit of your blood in his mouth.
In the back of your mind, you were desperately trying to remember if you had maybe accidentally opened your venom glands a second time later on, but just drew a blank. That wasn’t something you did unaware, it wasn’t automatic, it had to be done on purpose. Then, for a brief moment, you were worried about secondary wave syndrome—some humans break down siren venom in two phases instead of one, and the second one almost always kills them if they’re not brought to a human medical doctor for treatment—and you started running through the symptoms as well as the nearest human emergency rooms in your mind. Burst capillaries in the eyes, refusal of food and water, the hospital three blocks over should have an ER, right? But the kiss didn’t feel like when he’d been intoxicated on your venom before, this one felt deliberate, in control. He was in control. You let out a small moan at the thought, and Renjun’s lone hand on your thigh tightened in response.
Once he finally let you go, you both sat there in silence for a good few seconds, you still on his lap. You stared extra hard at the whites of his eyes. They looked normal. He seemed… normal.
It was rare for either of you to be speechless, much less the both of you.
“Well…” you broke the silence. “That was siren venom. You should drink some water. Stay right here, I’ll get it.”
You climbed off of him, heading into his kitchen. Looking at the oven, you were wondering how the timer hadn’t gone off in that entire time when you saw that it wasn’t on. The words ‘TIMER SET?’ were flashing on the screen at you, and the preheat hadn’t been started either. The pizza rolls had just been slowly defrosting on a pan in the cold oven. You couldn’t help but laugh, reaching into his fridge for his Brita filter then securing a couple cups from the cabinets.
Walking back into the living room, you handed the human his cup of water and remained standing as you took a sip of yours.
“You didn’t start the oven, for your pizza rolls,” you informed him quietly.
“Wh— oh, shit,” Renjun groaned, tipping his head back. “I guess I don’t get to give you your first pizza roll tonight.”
“That’s okay.” You dropped onto the couch next to him, shoulder to shoulder.
“So… that was siren venom,” he breathed out, then took a long gulp of his water. Definitely not second wave syndrome.
“That was siren venom,” you confirmed with a laugh, fondly brushing a piece of sweaty hair off his forehead.
“You were right… I was not prepared,” he admitted with a laugh, taking another drink.
“So do you think you would’ve let me kill you?”
“Yeah. I would’ve given you my credit card info, bank password, spilled all of my friends’ worst secrets, let you kill me, killed someone else if you asked me. God, that was…” He said with wide eyes, shaking his head. But there was a familiar glint in his eye as a smile cracked across his face, “Incredible.”
“Glad you think so,” you giggled, patting his chest. “Now don’t become a venom junkie, okay? I couldn’t live with myself if you did and it was my fault.”
“I won’t. Not really what I meant anyway.”
You grinned slyly at what he seemed to be implying, that it might not have just been the siren venom, but that it was you and your venom that made it so incredible. Like how every human had a slightly different essence, every siren had a unique chemical signature in their venom. It’s why using it non-consensually nowadays would be extremely stupid (as well as just an immoral thing to do and also a crime)—it can be matched to the siren in a lab like DNA. In addition, anecdotally, every siren’s venom was said to produce a slightly different high, but no mass studies had backed that up. You were inclined to believe the stories, though.
Renjun was still a bit hazy, though, still riding the high of the venom, so you decided to tuck a conversation like that away for another time.
“So why did you pick Magical Creatures Studies? Other than you’re insane?” You redirected the topic to a more neutral one.
Renjun didn’t seem put off at all about this jump. “When I was a kid, my family traveled around a bunch, for my dad’s job. I got to meet a lot of different kinds of beings, some of them became my best friends, and I never wanted to stop learning about it all.”
“What does your dad do?”
“Government job,” he answered, suddenly interested in picking at his nails.
You furrowed your brow thoughtfully. “Wait a minute… Huang Renjun. As in, your father is Ambassador Huang? That we’ve had to write papers on in class?”
Ambassador Huang was the first human ambassador sent on diplomacy trips to outside nations of magical creatures post-integration. His trips had largely been considered a monumental success, and credited as a big driver behind the huge uptick of immigration that your city has been seeing from outlying areas in the past couple decades. You’d hardly gotten through a single contemporary MCS class without directly learning about him or at least hearing his name. And you’d apparently been going to school with his son for four years and just pumped said son full of your venom and made out with him while he was high on your venom.
“Yeah…”
“Dude! What the hell? You didn’t think to mention that at some point?” You asked incredulously.
“And sound like some uppity nepo kid bragging about my dad? No thanks,” Renjun snorted.
“Yeah, maybe not like day one but like… I don’t know, before I used my venom on you!” You nudged his arm teasingly.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“I just venom-ed Ambassador Huang’s son!”
“Oh my God, could you not call me that?” He snapped at you. “This is why I don’t tell people! Because now I don’t have a name anymore, I’m just Ambassador Huang’s son.”
You immediately realized your mistake, your stomach dropping as you heard the hurt in his words. “Renjun, I’m—”
“Just go.” He demanded, standing up from the couch and putting distance between you two again. “We both got what we wanted, right? You found out who Dr. Magic was, and I experienced siren venom. That’s all this was, so you can go. You don’t owe me anything else.”
You clenched your jaw, setting your cup on the end table beside the couch. Picking up your cardigan from the floor with as much dignity as you could, you pulled it back on. Neither of you said another word as he watched you stalk over to the front door, shove your shoes back on, throw the door open, and slam it closed behind you.
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Drumming your fingertips along your keyboard, you squinted at the flashcards on your screen. You were in a sour mood, which had persisted ever since you’d left Renjun’s last night feeling used.
Ten was next to you at your picnic table outside the student union, finishing up a pencil portrait sketch of one of his other friends—one of the CompSci majors you’d paid to write your browser extension, actually. Dejun, a dragon, whose slit pupils, many bejeweled earrings, and a singular fang poking out from under his top lip featured prominently in the portrait. The sketch was part of Ten’s midterm portfolio check-in for one of his classes. Midterms were literally this week. Like, right now. You forced your sharp teeth further into the wooden pencil in your mouth.
“You’re going to ruin your cuspids like that, Y/N,” Ten chastised you calmly, rubbing at a line with the pad of his ring finger to smudge it before flipping his own non-mangled pencil around and continuing to sketch with the graphite.
“I’ll grow another set,” you grumbled, but took the writing utensil out of your mouth nevertheless.
“And have no teeth in the meantime. Real sexy siren stuff. Sure to lure all the hotties to their deaths looking like GamGam missing her dentures.”
“Shut up!” You shoved his head away, earning a loud peal of laughter from your friend. “As if you’ve been pulling anybody yourself. You’re literally a siren art major covered in tattoos that he designed himself, more piercings than a dragon, including nipple rings, and you haven’t been on a date in… what, almost a year?”
“So we’re both disappointments to the good siren name, huh?” He held up his hands in surrender, still grinning. “Just a couple of poor, celibate sirens doomed to be disgraces to their species forever…”
“Can you not yell that to the entire courtyard, dude?”
“What? Not announce very loudly that you haven’t been with anybody in exactly four—”
You lunged to cover his mouth before he could publicize precisely how long it’s been since you’d hooked up with someone. Ten immediately broke down into laughs behind your hand that was covering his mouth, his shoulders shaking even as you smacked him on the back of the head with your other hand.
“Gods, what is wrong with you?” You hissed at him. “You’re a menace to society. And me.”
When you’d finally let go of his face, he said through a couple more chuckles, “Hey, you could easily do it back to me.”
“Why would I want to do that? And the fact that you’re suggesting it makes me think that you want me to do that, which makes me want to do it even less. You freak.”
Before your podmate could respond, you caught sight of a figure approaching your table head-on. Setting your jaw, your body immediately tensed. There was no mistake, Huang Renjun was walking straight towards you. Ten seemed to have noticed the shift in your body language and mood, as he didn’t say anything further, quietly going back to his sketchbook as you watched Renjun get nearer and nearer.
“Y/N,” he said your name quietly, stopping not quite at the end of the table beside you, but next to the end of the bench across from you.
“What do you want from me now, Renjun?” You replied bitterly, pretending to return your hands to your keyboard as if you were going to refocus on your studies.
“Uhm, to talk, I guess?”
Ten interjected, “Do you guys need a second? I can go—”
You held him in place with a hand around his wrist, your voice curt, “No, Ten. Stay. This will be short.”
Your friend lowered himself back down into his seat.
You then set your hard gaze on Renjun. The marks you had left on his neck were still visible above the collar of his t-shirt. Moving your eyes from that to his face, you cocked your head to the side. “What’s in it for me? You established that our relationship is purely transactional, remember? We apparently just use each other. You scratch my back, I spit in your mouth, quid pro quo.”
“Okay, I’m going now,” Ten declared, wrenching his arm from your grasp to grab his sketchbook, pencils, and backpack before taking off.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. I don’t see you like that at all, I just... I got defensive and snapped. It’s not an excuse, but still, I want you to know that I don’t mean anything I said. I’m sorry.” Renjun shifted uncomfortably on his feet, but you could see the genuine remorse on his features.
You breathed in, then out.
“I’m sorry too,” you sighed, letting your voice relax back to the natural softness that it held around Renjun. “You’re your own person, aside from just ‘Ambassador Huang’s son.’ I’m sorry for treating you like anything other than Renjun.”
“It’s not that I’m not super proud to be his son or anything, I think he’s really awesome. He was my hero growing up; still is. I mean, I’m going into the same field as him. Kind of. You know? It’s just because we’re going to be doing the same kind of thing, I want to be able to be looked at for what I do. Good or bad.”
“Bad? You plan on using your degree for evil, Renjun?” You teased, scooting over on the bench seat to take Ten’s previous spot and freeing up a place for Renjun to scoot in beside you.
“I could,” he played along, gladly taking the seat offered.
The two of you made eye contact, then burst into laughter at the same time.
“What?” He questioned in mock offense. “I think I’d make a great evil dictator, personally. You don’t think so?”
“Not at all, you’d be great at it.”
“Thank you. My friends don’t take my threats so seriously.”
“Which will ultimately be their downfall.”
Renjun looked back out at the campus in front of you two, his voice turning serious again, “But, seriously, I mean, I don’t want people having all these lofty expectations for me and then be disappointed when I don’t change the whole world, nor do I want them making things easy for me because they know my dad.”
“That’s fair. Unattainable, but fair to wish for,” you nodded in understanding.
“Ugh...” He slumped forward, dropping his head into his arms atop the table.
“Look, Renjun…” You rested one hand on his arm as the other rubbed up and down his back supportively. “You can’t change who your dad is, and you said it yourself, it’s not like you’re ashamed of him either. So don’t brag, and don’t be a dick when somebody brings him up either. Just do your best to show people who Huang Renjun is. And if they still don’t get it, that’s their loss. Because I already know him, and I think he’s pretty cool.”
Renjun sat back up to look you in the face with a skeptical eyebrow raised. “You’re such a cheeseball. Aren’t sirens supposed to be alluring and enchanting?”
“Shut up! I will drown you! See how alluring I am when you’re under a siren call,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest.
“I’m kidding.” He grinned at you, nudging your shoulder with his. “That really did make me feel better, thank you, Y/N.”
You smiled back. “You’re welcome, Renjun.”
The two of you kept smiling at each other for a moment before he broke the eye contact, looking down at his hands then shifting his gaze back to the courtyard.
“Uhm, while we’re airing stuff out about last night...” He cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Yeah, Junnie?” You tilted your head to the side, watching as his cheeks started flushing.
“I don’t think I ever said thank you. I kind of popped off on you right after... everything. But thank you, for taking care of me before, during, and after. It didn’t even occur to me to talk about what we could and couldn’t do beforehand. Thank you for that, and for getting me the water. And... all of it in between...” His ears were bright red too at this point, but he managed to look you in the eye as he gave you his genuine gratitude.
You nodded in understanding. “You’re welcome. I’m glad that you felt cared for during all of it. In addition to, you know, everything else you felt.”
“Mm, yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck.
Studying his face curiously, you said, “You look like you want to ask me something else.”
“Well, I feel like you still weren’t very clear on the ‘eat me alive’ thing.”
You rolled your eyes. “Gods, Junnie, I’m not going to actually eat you—”
“I mean...” Renjun took a deep breath. “I kind of always feel like I’ve got a little bit of siren venom in me when I’m around you, Y/N. My heart races, and my skin is warm, and everything is just better when I’m with you. I want to see you when you’re not around, and when things are hard for you, I want to make everything better. I like you, and between the Dr. Magic deal, and our stupid academic rivalry, and what we did last night, I don’t know what I am to you, but that’s how I feel.”
If someone had told freshman you that Huang Renjun would ever say words like that to you, you’d have laughed in their face to the point of tears— or slapped them. And yet, in that moment, you weren’t surprised in the slightest. It was the most natural, beautiful, delightful, perfect thing that could’ve happened. Just like you leaning over to give him a modest, near-demure kiss on the cheek, absolutely beaming at him as you pulled back.
“I like you too, Renjun,” you admitted.
His eyes went wide before a broad, tender smile spread across his features and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. He let out a drawn-out sigh of relief, “Ohh, that’s one weight off my chest for this week.”
You laughed in agreement. “Me too. Actually makes everything feel lighter.”
“Yeah, it does,” he said, squeezing your shoulder. “So how much do I owe you?”
“What?”
“You said you were going to invoice Dr. Magic. For the browser extension, and the color copies, and whatever else. How much do I owe you?”
You tapped a finger against your chin, pretending to think before a smirk pulled across your lips. “Mm, should be exactly the price of one nice dinner and a movie.”
“Dinner and a movie? Just how many copies were you making?” He asked with a chuckle and a shake of his head.
“A nice dinner,” you reiterated. “I paid those CompSci majors fairly for their time.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
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Friday night after your last midterm, you were knocking on Huang Renjun’s door. The two of you had seen each other this week for your Linguistics in MCS class, but had been utterly locked into academic mode and hadn’t met up aside from that. So, per his invite, you were here in your “midterms best”— i.e., the pajamas you had been wearing at your own apartment since submitting your last mid-semester draft earlier today. You’d been told this wasn’t going to be a fancy affair.
Judging by the pajamas that Renjun had also answered the door wearing—giving you vivid déjà vu to the last time you were here—you were dressed appropriately for the occasion. He led you in by the hand, informing you there was something he wanted to show you in the kitchen.
You came to a stop in front of a plate piled high with small, pillow-shaped pieces of dough, some with bursts of red sauce leaking out of them. You couldn’t help but let out a sputtering laugh. “Pizza rolls? Did midterms scramble the egg on your face so bad that you missed the part where I said nice dinner?”
You might not have ever eaten pizza rolls, but you knew what section of the grocery store they came from.
“I can’t even tell what that was supposed to be… You’re so beautiful…” He was staring at you with a look of pure adoration, and surprised you by giving you a fleeting peck on the cheek, gone as soon as you’d realized what he was doing. Your hand instinctually came up to brush at your skin, almost in disbelief, as he went back to explaining his plans for tonight. “Anyway, I didn’t get to give you your first pizza roll the other night, and I figured that the last thing you actually wanted right after midterms week was to go out to some hoity toity place and be out at the movie theater really late, right? So, I’ve got pizza rolls, peanut butter cookies, your seaweed tea, and like way more snacks and candy and stuff. So we can chill and watch whatever movies you want tonight, unwind from midterms. And then next weekend, we’ll do your nice dinner and go to the movie theater. Think of it as an IOU.”
A fond smile tugged at the corner of your mouth as you nodded your approval. “Mmm… you’re right. This is great, Junnie. Thank you.”
Set up on Renjun’s couch with the assortment of snacks—pizza rolls included—and your first movie chosen, you settled in next to him, knee to knee, under the same blanket as the two of you ate. You decided that pizza rolls weren’t that bad (you still liked peanut butter sandwich cookies better), convinced Renjun to try some of your ocean flakes again—a favorite snack of sirens, which he’d already tasted on one occasion at a Dr. Magic hunting session and hated—to similar results, and finished off a bottle of seaweed-infused tea by the time the first movie was about a third of the way done. At this point, you were pretty satiated food-wise, and set your empty drink bottle on the coffee table to sit back on the couch.
Linking your arm with Renjun’s, you rested your head on his shoulder as he was still finishing up his plate of pizza rolls. “That was good, Renjun. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I call dibs on little spoon first, by the way.”
“Damn.”
Once he was done eating as well, you laid down to eagerly take your promised place as little spoon. Renjun stayed partially propped up against the arm of the couch so he could see the TV as you were nestled back against his chest, one of his arms slung over your waist. Your fingers played with his under the blanket absentmindedly as you got used to your new place, with him, in his arms.
“Renjun?” You said into the quiet. The only noises were coming from the TV. The movie was nearly done, just a couple little resolving scenes after the climax left. You’d seen it plenty of times before—both of you had, it was a favorite that you’d discovered you two shared earlier in the semester—which was why you’d picked it, an easy watch that you both liked. But nothing that required your full attention, so you could talk or miss scenes if you wanted.
“Yeah?” He responded just as softly.
“This is really nice. Hanging out, just us. No school, no Dr. Magic.”
“I know. Almost doesn’t feel real.”
“What? That we’re hanging out without trying to kill each other?”
He let out a couple laughs, catching your hand that had been playing with his under the blanket and lacing your fingers together. “I think there’s definitely some people that would be shocked to see us right now. But I meant more-so that we don’t have any schoolwork to do right now, and that the whole Dr. Magic thing is finally over. Other than the dinner that I owe you.”
“Oh… I owe you… I-O-U…” you sounded the words and letters out slowly. “I get it now.”
“God, you’re perfect,” he sighed dreamily, brushing your hair away from your face to press two kisses to your temple in quick succession.
You turned over to face him to properly protest, “Hey, I didn’t grow up around humans, you know that, right? I just came here to go to school! I moved here like, two weeks before our first day of freshman year—”
“I’m not making fun of you, Y/N!” He promised, sandwiching your hand between both of his and squeezing it tightly. “I respect how difficult it must have been for you to acclimate to the new culture and city when you moved, and so suddenly, on top of starting school. I just love y- love when you do that. Genuinely, I’m so charmed by it. Endeared. Bewitched. Whatever word you want to use. It’s something I never noticed until this semester, when we started doing the Dr. Magic stuff together. Despite knowing you for so long, in the department, in classes.”
“You know what I never knew about you before this semester, Junnie?”
“What?”
“That you were such a softie,” you snickered fondly. “I thought you were all textbooks and GPA and flashcards and whatever.”
The human ducked his head bashfully. “It’s something I’ve been working on this year.”
“Between this and Dr. Magic, I think you’ve been doing pretty well.”
“Thanks.”
“So, why did you do it, Junnie?” You asked curiously. “Not be a softie, I mean, but…”
“What? Be Dr. Magic?” He clarified, to which you nodded. “I didn’t mean to make a persona like that, really. I had to pick a screenname, and the guys had jokingly called me that a couple times when I helped them out with some problems. That’s all.”
“I know why you started the account. Knowledge. That’s also why you didn’t get the credit. You just needed to know. Though, the story behind the name is cute,” you pinched his cheek, and he tried to deter your hand with his shoulder half-heartedly. “I mean more like, why were you hiding your IP and using VPNs and stuff before you even knew that I was trying to track you down? In the fall.”
“I made the first couple posts from the school computers just because I like to do my work there, I wasn’t trying to cover anything up. Then I pictured what I’d do if I found someone posting like I was on the forums. And I would’ve tried to find out who they were. So I started covering my tracks a bit more intentionally after that. Didn’t want any groupies rolling up on me.” He pinched your side teasingly with the last sentence, and you slapped his hand away with an eye roll.
“Oh shut up!” You scoffed, ignoring his hands as he tried to pull you back towards him again.
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding, I’m sorry,” he apologized through his chuckles. “If anything I’m your groupie, I swear. Your number one fan from the moment you showed me your conspiracy board.”
“Mm, fine.” You scooted closer to him, letting him wrap his arms around you once more. “Glad we got that cleared up.”
Renjun shifted to lay on his back, and you easily followed the move to snuggle in mostly on top of him, resting your head in the crook of his neck and your hand on his waist, fingers innocently smoothing over a patch of skin above his hipbone where his shirt had ridden up. It sounded like the credits were on by now, but you didn’t really care about picking another movie as Renjun hummed along to the familiar song that played over the scrolling names. You’d sing along too, if you were alone at your own place. But now you didn’t dare even hum like the human with you for fear of what it could do to him. Renjun’s voice was plenty lovely enough though, even just this casual little bit humming. You’d see if you could get him to sing for you properly one of these days. If an opportunity came before graduation. Who knew what your days would even look like before then.
Gods, graduation. You felt like you could shrivel up and die just thinking about it. Not to mention that you hadn’t even told Renjun that you’d—
“Hey. What are you thinking about?” He suddenly asked, his disapproving tone clear.
You gulped. “How could you tell I was thinking about something?”
“For one, you’ve got your bad thinking face on.” He pinched your bottom lip. “You pout. It’s very dramatic. You look very concerned.”
“I have different thinking faces?”
“Yeah, you look different when you’re studying. I’ve seen you do plenty of that to know the difference. And you’ve got a third face when you’re contemplating. Usually you do that one when you’re looking at menus.”
“I didn’t know I was apparently an open book.” You covered your face with your hands in embarrassment.
“It’s cute, Y/N. You’ve got a cute face, and you make cute facial expressions with it, don’t cover it up.” He gingerly grabbed your hands to encourage you to take them off. “Except I am worried about what’s making you make your bad thinking face right now. What’s wrong?”
With a sigh, you pushed up into a sitting position. Renjun followed your lead curiously, a thoughtful frown on his own features as he watched you pull your knees to your chest.
“Renjun, I need to tell you something.”
He regarded you with a skeptical eyebrow raised. “Okay… go for it.”
Nervously, you smoothed out some wrinkles in your pajama pants as you confessed, “Uhm, Dr. Kwon asked me to carry the banner at commencement. I said yes.”
“I knew that.”
“What?” You looked up at him in disbelief.
“Well, since it was midterms already, I figured that if they’d picked me, they would have asked me by now and since they hadn’t, then they must have picked you. I was just waiting for you to tell me so I could tell you… Congrats.” Renjun grinned brightly at you, reaching out to rest his hand on your arm.
“You’re not upset?” You asked trepidly.
“We’re not petty little freshmen anymore, Y/N. No, I’m not upset. I’m proud of you, you deserve it.”
“So did you.”
“Not any more than you did.” He shook his head firmly. “So would you just accept my congrats already?”
You gave a small, shaky smile. “Thank you…”
“There we go.”
“This is what I was so freaked about… when we went to get froyo.”
“You were afraid of me being mad at you for being picked to carry the banner?” Renjun asked incredulously.
“I didn’t know how to tell you!” You defended yourself. “And now I have to do the commencement practices, on top of senior capstone and my extracurriculars…”
He wrinkled his nose. “Ew, commencement practices. So glad I didn’t get picked now, actually.”
“And that was so convincing, Junnie.”
“You remember what you said to me when we got froyo?”
Scrunching your face up, you struggled to think back to the exact conversation you had that day—you’d been really stressed. “Uh, ‘exactly two gummy sharks on mine please?’”
“Well, yeah, your hyper-specific froyo order—”
“Throwing stones at black kettles much?” You teased.
“Excuse me?” Renjun’s eyes went wide.
“Is that not—? I really thought I got it that time.”
“Did you mean to say ‘throwing stones in glass houses’ and/or ‘the pot calling the kettle black?’”
“…Yes.”
He turned very serious as he went to tenderly cradle your face in his hands. “I’m going to kiss you in like two seconds after I finish what I was saying, okay?”
“Oh, okay,” you agreed weakly, wishing very much that he’d just do it now instead of making you wait. He then let your face go.
“When we were talking about wanting people to know that we’re smart,” Renjun clarified. “You said that we’re both like that, and you knew that you were like that. And then you asked me if I knew that I was like that. I had tried to swear up and down this entire time that I was doing all of this—the needing to be the best—for myself. But it wasn’t. I’m like that too. That’s kind of what Dr. Magic was, me taking a step back from needing everyone to know I was the smartest person in the room. A quasi-experiment, to see if I could do it.”
“I think that after graduation, maybe we both chill on being the smartest person in the room, and try to just spend a summer working on that magical bucket list of yours?” You suggested.
“Oh?” He perked up at this. “Really?”
“You ever seen a werewolf shift?”
“No…”
“That sounds like a ‘not yet’ to me.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He confirmed with a conspiratorial grin that mirrored the one that you could feel across your own face. “You know how sirens can’t get dosed up on their own venom?”
“Yeah…” You nodded, wondering where he could be going with this.
“Well, I know a witch with a proprietary love potion blend that I think we might be able to modify to produce similar effects.”
“Fascinating.” You thought on this for a second, very quickly running through your knowledge of potion properties to imagine what it could be. “Two-factor blood potion?”
“Yes. But we’d put your venom in it instead of your blood so it wouldn’t kill me.”
“That could work…” You mused. “Speaking of, I should really give you a full dose one of these days.”
He breathed in sharply. “That wasn’t a full dose?”
“Nope.”
“Holy shit…”
“Have you ever watched a phoenix reincarnation?” You added another suggestion to your joint summer bucket list.
“Have you? Wouldn’t that literally blind us?” Renjun questioned, something akin to genuine concern on his face now.
You shrugged. “Allegedly. It’s never been recorded in a lab setting, so who really knows.”
“I think we’re going to get each other killed before we can get our PhDs,” he declared with a fond smile and shake of his head.
“Hey, the betting pools said we’d kill each other by junior year, so I think we’re doing well for ourselves.”
“Do you think we can collect on those bets when we graduate and we’re both still alive and have all of our limbs?”
“We’ll burn that bridge when we get there.”
“Oh my god, come here,” Renjun groaned deliriously, kneeling to grab your face with two hands and crash his lips to yours. You curled your fingers in the front of his shirt, pulling him down with you as you fell back against the arm of his couch, still connected.
Yeah, you’d drive off that burning bridge when you got there.
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⤷ blog masterlist  ⤷ anthology masterlist
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linddzz · 3 months
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Here an assortment of Facts About Morpheus in the Red Flags AU. Where I'm starting to lean more towards the version where they meet and are already into each other before the ""Fake Date"" Incident:
-Jessamy is the raven he took care of when he found her injured outside of his townhome. He now has a room with a window he often keeps open for her to fly into whenever she feels like it. I don't know how legal any of this is in London but tbh it doesn't matter because he also does not know what the laws are and doesn't care.
- His townhome is very dark maximalist in decor, which tends to surprise people at first. There are houseplants and little statues all over, and the walls are hidden behind millions of bookshelves. There is an art studio room and books scattered everywhere. Very recently, hypothetical visitors would notice a lot of child locks and child proofed areas that have a bit of a panicked "I bought every safety thing in the store bc I have no idea wtf I'm doing" energy to them.
- He has a therapist. Yes, the Morpheus that Hob meets is the upgraded version who is actually working on himself already. This is what the improved personal growth version of Morpheus is like.
Anyway, said therapist is Gilbert F. Greene. Because Morpheus going head to head with an unstoppable force of old timey adorable optimism who will also not take his shit is delightful. Dr. Greene insists on going by first names and Morpheus always makes "Gilbert" sound like a slur in retaliation. Some conversations I imagine include:
"Good morning Gilbert, you will never guess who had what you might call a """relapse into self destructive behaviors"""" last night."
"I am very sorry to hear that my dear boy. Let me say though, that I am so very proud of you for calling me! That is a phenomenal step for you and it's wonderful that you are being proactive in your recovery."
"Don't patronize me Gilbert. I will hang up."
(this ended up being super long so I'm just gonna spare y'all's dash. Warning for some lightly touched on mentions of drug use and self destructive behavior.)
- Him getting a therapist was part of the requirements for gaining visitation rights and then weekend custody once a month with Orpheus. The therapy is actually helping, and he's bitter about that.
- His given name is actually Dream, he goes by his middle name. All the Endless siblings have awful names. Desire goes by Adonai because who calls a fucking child Desire???
When Hob meets the rest of the family, Destiny goes "it's good to see you again, Dream" and Hob begins turning to Morpheus like "lmao who tf is named Dream" only to find Morpheus glaring daggers at his brother.
- The Endless parents are rarely around. Some of the siblings still live in the manor and they all use it for family dinners, but it's common for their parents to be off travelling for years at a time.
- Morpheus is an author and a painter who has a bajillion pen names to go with each genre he writes in, so it's hard to figure out exactly how much he's written. Even before becoming a father though, his face and full name is mostly associated with children's fantasy stories that he illustrates himself, and his Art vs Artist vibe is very Miyazaki.
Him and Calliope collaborated on a series of illustrated poetic translations of ancient epics. Their divorce was exactly as messy as one might imagine the divorce between two passionate artist types might be.
- His downward spiral of self destruction started before the divorce but oh boy did it nosedive during and after.
- When she got pregnant after divorce proceedings had started, there was a moment where they were both meeting with lawyers and one asked something along the lines of if this meant they would try for reconciliation and staying together. Calliope said "no" immediately.
It's not like Morpheus exactly thought they would get back together, but the speed and firmness of that hard "no" had his head screaming with white noise and some badly thought out self medication for months, which ended up being why Calliope got full custody and he is just now able to get more involved with the now two year old Orpheus.
- His rebound with Thessaly was also messy. She was just in it for a fun fling and he was... Morpheus. He found out he got dumped when she informed him she was already in the process of moving back to Greece, and Johanna said he needed to be banned from any more beautiful Greek expats from that day forth.
- No one can figure out what the deal is with him and Lucienne. The simple explanation is they're queerplatonic soul mates. Lucienne's wife Gault thinks they're a bit codependent (not an inaccurate assessment), but is more civil with him since the day she yelled at him to go get an actual therapist instead of constantly putting his shit on Lucienne, and he actually did. (It is unclear if this or Calliope demanding therapy for him to get visitation with Orpheus was his wake up call catalyst, but probably a bit of both.)
- Lucienne was originally a personal assistant. She now works as his editor since she seems to be the only person who can keep track of all the shit he's written. She is also the only person who can get away with critiquing his works in progress without sending him into a fit where he might burn all his manuscripts.
- When Morpheus started mentioning this Gadling guy a lot, Lucienne paid a visit to the pub. Not to do anything so crude as to threaten a man's life if he breaks her sensitive friend's heart. What could she do anyway? No no. She's just here to smile with zero trace of humor and ask some questions while looking him up and down through her spectacles. Hob will later describe this as one of the most pants shitting moments of his life, and he felt like he got transformed back into a primary school kid who talked slightly too loudly in the library.
- Morpheus went through a slutty phase during and shortly after University that was less of a healthy and fun exploration of his sexuality and libido, and a bit more "I will take anyone who will have me in any way they will want me and I know that if nothing else, I'm pretty."
- Him and Johanna used to have a game seeing who could get more free drinks in one night. This had to be put to an end when it turned into the catalyst for at least three screaming fights between them.
Fight subjects were
Quality vs Quantity. Morpheus insists his ability to get people to buy him a single glass of wine that costs £50 beats Johanna's cheap beers. Johanna disagreed. loudly.
Is it cheating when Morpheus ran to the bathroom to smudge on some eyeliner and then stole Johanna's lip gloss? Is it further cheating when Johanna realized that his main method of getting drinks was "act like Adonai"? Accusations that he would ever act like his horrid annoying younger sibling sent Morpheus into an absolute tantrum.
Competitiveness DID overcome sibling rivalry enough for Morpheus to go to Adonai for makeover assistance. This backfired because it made Morpheus hot to the point of intimidating, and Johanna won that night.
- After Hob starts flirting with him, Morpheus goes suspiciously into a Romantic, Pre-Raphaelite inspired art era featuring lots of noble knights with dark sunlit hair. A lot of them seem to be lured in by dark haired fae entities all La Belle Sans Merci style. It's disgustingly obvious.
-Therapy has made him juuuuust self aware enough to know that he MAYBE tends to go a bit hard and fast with romance. This makes him a little more cautious with Hob than he usually would be, and he's doing a bit of "Hob is so nice and sweet and interested but I'm gonna mess it up :(((" pining. Everyone around him is fucking sick of it. He is not self aware enough to realize he's still going super hard and fast, but this time he's doing it while sighing sadly and drawing Hob in his sketchbook all the fucking time.
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queencay4 · 2 months
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Poppy Playtime x Reader
Prologue
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I was laughing happily with my new family. I finally got adopted and as a present my “parents” had gifted me a Huggy Wuggy toy. I hugged him close, content with my new gift. As we were leaving my “parents” lead me to their car and we are leaving the toy factory’s parking lot. Looking back all I could feel was sadness because I was leaving everything and everyone in that building behind. All of my friends but it’s fine I will beg to visit.
When we got to my new house I excitedly jumped out of the car and ran to the front door. They were laughing at my excitement and opened the front door. I looked around after I stepped into the house, they took my hand and gave me a small tour when we finally got to my room. I was so happy with what I saw. No more not having a family now I had a new home and I was happy.
That night I went to sleep with a smile on my face. Not knowing that the day before was my last day ever setting foot in the factory again. It has been weeks since I’ve been to see any of my friends and I was sad and upset. Why couldn’t they take me to see my friends? I begged and begged but my “parents” still refused. After the fourth week of asking and getting the same response I had given up.
I do feel guilty for not going to see my friends but there is nothing I could do about it. One night however my life changed and not for the better. Someone broke into the house. I quickly hid behind one of my bookshelves that was far enough from the wall that I could fit behind it but still didn’t look to obvious. I heard my door open and held my breath, hoping whoever was in my room didn’t hear me. What I assumed to be 30 minutes later the person left. Yet I still stayed hidden. Next thing I hear is a scream, coming from the intruder.
‘Stay quiet, and don’t make a noise no matter how much it scares you’ the thought repeatedly going through my head. No noise, no more screaming, leaving my hiding spot and going to the living room I see the intruder covered in blood ,a stray animal already eating him. He was ripped apart, and I knew he was dead. I quickly ran to my “parents” room only to discover their bloodied bodies. I cried, he did this, the intruder but who killed him?
That’s when I felt small arms locking around my form, taking me into a hug and when I looked I saw my Huggy Wuggy toy staring up at me covered in what I assumed to be the intruder’s blood. I hugged him back before standing up and looking around for a phone. After finding one I called the police and told them that someone broke into our house and killed my “parents” but were killed by a stray animal that came into the house. Not even 25 minutes later did the police arrive and that was the last I saw of that house.
No more family, no more happiness. And it was all taken away by that man. I sat in the back of the police car and looked out the window, closely holding my huggy wuggy to my chest as we left the area. Luckily I hid or I would be dead to. I sighed and asked what would happen to me now and the officers told me that they didn’t know. Turning away and looking back out the window, I hoped that my life would change and I didn’t go back to being an orphan. Leaving behind everything as I left in that police cruiser, even the child memories made at a factory that would face a downfall not even two days after my departure.
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miel-ji · 1 year
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Sunshine
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Genre: fluff
Pairing: Jisung x fem!reader
Word count: 1.7k
Warnings: none, just really fluffy
Summary: It’s the first time that Jisung is coming over to your apartment to hang out… alone.
A/N: I got this idea this morning, and I was really excited to write. I’m not so sure how often I’ll be able to write, so I decided to just go ahead and do it. I do plan to write for other members, but Han has just been stuck in my head lol I’m actually ot8 btw
Your and Jisung’s relationship had developed naturally from friends to feelings. It was one of those cases where everyone around you, but you two, could see where it was headed. They all knew that you’d never just stay friends. He’d always ask about you when you weren’t around, and you always wore a small smile when talking about him. Once Jisung had taken the step to further your relationship, you realized how your flirting hadn’t been that subtle at all.
You’d been something for two weeks, and today was the first time that you were inviting him over to your apartment, alone. You would consider your relationship a fling, but just thinking that caused your face to tug into a frown. You wanted more with him. When you thought of Jisung, you thought of comfort. He was always the one noticing if your mood had changed, if you needed someone to check on you, or if you needed space. You really wanted to make this work and, for once, make it past the undefined grey areas of a blossoming romance.
It was getting late in the afternoon, and the sun rested low in the horizon. Golden light spilled from the windows and onto your floor, basking your living room in its rich yellow hue. You pulled the curtains back a little to allow the light in more as you rushed around the living room trying to straighten everything. When you got home that day, you immediately started cleaning. It helped that you weren’t a particular messy person, but you still made sure that the floors were swept and the surfaces dusted.
You’d fluffed the pillows, lit a candle, and settled on the couch when you heard the soft knocking on the door. You immediately perked up in your spot as you anxiously gazed at the door. Your palms were sweating, and you were already feeling restless. Yes, you were nervous, but mainly, you felt excited. You took a deep breath before striding over to the door to open it. The boy that greeted you reminded you of all the cliche scenes from the romance books that occupied your bookshelves of the boy next door.
“Hey y/n,” Jisung was leaning against the door frame while gazing down at you. He wore an innocent grin on his face, but one of the corners was quirked up just a bit. That perfectly summed up Jisung; seemingly innocent but always having playful undertones. You felt his eyes drinking in your appearance like you were doing with him. He definitely looks comfortable in his baggy clothes and hoodie; his hair cascading over the eyes that you loved so much.
“Hi,” you said softly and bit back a smile that threatened to take over your whole face. The nerves you once felt were slowly melting away as you now felt nothing but at ease. The arm he was leaning on hooked around your waist and pulled you flush against him, and you rested your palms against his chest. You could see his smile grew as he straightened himself, gently using his thumb and forefinger to tilt your head up. He caught your lips in a slow kiss to greet you.
You hummed in pleasant surprise, feeling your shoulders drop as the last of your anxieties were expelled with his kiss. “So, you wanna come in?”
“No, I’m good here,” he giggled a little while squeezing you a bit in his hold. Your chest felt light as he buried his head into the crook of your neck, refusing to let you go. You laughed along and lightly pushed against his chest so that he’d release you. You moved to the side, and Jisung took a few steps inside while looking around the tiny apartment. “I should’ve known.”
“Should’ve known what?” You tilted your head at him after closing the door and making your way over.
“That even your apartment is cute and smells nice.” You rolled your eyes, acting like he wasn’t charming his way into your heart. “Oh, you know what would look nice here?” He gestured to your coffee table that had some books resting on the top.
“What’s that?”
“Some flowers. I’ll have to remember that for next time.”
“Ji, you don’t have to bring me flowers,” you said but the smile growing on your face said you were more than delighted at the idea.
He had made his way to the couch and was now lounging there as he took your hand and coaxed you beside him. His thumb rubbed soft circles over the back of your palm, and he looked up at you with big bright eyes. His lower lip poked out a little in a pouty like way, “please, pretty.”
You sat on the space beside him on the couch and shifted your body slightly so your knees brushed as you turned to face him. You shrugged, the same smile as before never having left your face, “I won’t stop you if that’s what you want to do.”
When you invited Jisung over, you figured you'd have something like a movie night. There was a new box of microwaveable popcorn sitting in your cabinet along with a case of the drink he always ordered from the vending machine in the fridge. You’d suggest that later, but you wanted to see where things would go with him first. So far so good as he threw an arm over the back of the couch and continued to observe your apartment. It was as if he were trying to find even more little details to be able to memorize about you.
He absentmindedly played with your fingers, slipping your rings off and back on, before he let out a gasp of excitement and stood up from his spot. “I thought that you said you didn’t play any instruments.” There was amusement in his voice as he picked up the ukulele that you forgot was resting by your bookshelf in the corner.
“I’m not… that’s just a failed quarantine skill…” you cringed thinking back to all the skills you tried to keep yourself busy with back then. You had always wanted to learn to play an instrument, and all the research you did said that ukulele would be the easiest to start with. You were so excited when you first got it. You saved all kinds of tutorials to a playlist, downloaded different apps for learning, and learned the basic chords.
“Aw, you must remember something,” his eyes sparkled with amusement once again as he returned to his spot on the couch with the ukulele in hand. He tuned it pretty quickly by being able to tell by ear. He gave it a good strum for equal measure and turned it over to you. “I’ll help you.” There was a small encouraging smile on his face as you took the ukulele from him.
“Okay, okay, but please don’t laugh. Or at least not too much.”
He exaggerated his expression as his brows knitted together, and his mouth fell open to form an ‘o’, “of course not!”
You cleared your throat, sat up straighter, and took a deep breath before singing. You softly sang somewhere over the rainbow and played strumming down for the four counts. You fumbled through the chord changes since the positions now felt foreign to your muscles, but it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. Jisung was clearly enjoying it even if he knew exactly where you were messing up. His eyes were soft and brows slightly upturned, wearing a dreamy expression as he slightly swayed to the music. You finished with the short chorus, and you both had a slight pink tint on your faces.
“Y/n, how could you not tell me this?” His smile grew and his teeth flashed.
“There’s nothing to tell! I don’t play…” you handed the ukulele back to him.
“But you could. You have a really nice voice…” his voice was a little lower as he said this, not missing the sincerity.
You chose to ignore the comment because if your heart beat any louder, you were scared he’d be able to hear it too. “Well, now it’s your turn to play something.”
“What would you like to hear, baby?” He straightened in his seat to get ready to play.
“Anything,” you breathed out, excited to hear him sing in person for the first time.
He gazed at you for a moment before looking down at his hands that rested on the ukulele. Your heart melted as his lips formed another pout, but this time due to concentration. He started strumming along to the song, and you immediately recognized it.
“You are my sunshine. My only sunshine.” He was looking at you as he sang. His voice sounded light as it reached your ears. “You make me happy when skies are grey.” His melodic voice filled your senses and lulled you into a state of peacefulness. “You’ll never know dear how much I love you.” He shook his head a little while smiling, and the steady tone he’d been keeping broke a little trying to hold back a giggle. The line seemed to have flustered him, but he finished the chorus by leaning in a little closer to you anyway, “please don’t take my sunshine away.”
“Wow…” you swallowed down the emotions that bubbled in your chest. “You’re definitely better than me.” You laugh a little.
“Then why would I rather hear your voice?” He leaned in even closer, and his tone sounded like the question had the most obvious answer.
Shaking your head a little at his flirtations, you accepted his challenge and leaned in as well. Your noses were almost brushing, and his eyes widened just a little at your bold gesture before his gaze dropped down to your lips. You smirked as you noticed the effect you had on him and let your gaze travel down to his lips as well. They were plump and soft, already parted slightly as if anticipating your next move was to finally feel yours against them.
“Because, you’re obsessed with me,” you teased.
“Shut up,” he playfully quipped back, his breath tickling your cheek as he huffed out a laugh. He reached up to cup your cheek. His palm warmed your against your skin as he caressed your face.
Instead of kissing him, you whispered, “teach me?”
“What?” He asked, a little dazed. Your voice pulls him from his thoughts.
“Teach me to be as good as you.”
“Hm, I think you’re already perfect, but I’ll at least help you with ukulele.”
You rolled your eyes and sat back, “that’s what I meant.”
“Well, of course,” he handed you the ukulele this time, but he slid behind where you sat on the couch. His legs were on either side of you, and his arms wrapped around you from behind to get ready to direct you in playing. His chin rested on your shoulder, and he was now fully wrapped around you. His warmth was nice, and you found yourself leaning back into his chest a bit. You closed your eyes to block out your other senses and just simply feel him. He pecked your cheek, and your eyes fluttered open, blinking a few times to remember why you were in this position in the first place. “Now, put your fingers like this…” He helped you place your fingers on the right strings and adjusted your grip where you could play it clearly.
He continued directing you in playing the song, and you could feel his chest vibrate when he would hum along. He clasped his hands together and rested them in your lap when you would play. He’d excitedly squeeze you when you would pick up on the new thing he taught you. And in between playing, he’d kiss your cheek before helping you again. You thought you had given up on trying to learn the ukulele, the discarded instrument just reminding you of goals left unfulfilled, but that afternoon, you had found a new, stronger motivation.
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shiftermia · 8 months
Text
— utter chaos
james potter x animagus!reader
platonic!marauders x animagus!reader
where James and Sirius interrupt yours, Peter’s, and remus’s study session in the most chaotic way possible. Accident or not.
a/n: idc idc Peter is a marauder too outside of canon. This is more of a ‘what it’s like being friends with the marauders’ than a James potter lovey one but oh well. You’re welcome A.
You don’t have to listen to the song, but I recommend that you do :))
Usually when you needed help on a subject, you went to library for a study session with Lily, Remus, and sometimes accompanied with Peter.
Today just so happened to be a day where Lily went on a date with Mary so Peter accompanied you. Sitting in the far corner of the library, studying for Potions and it’s upcoming O.W.L. you and Peter listened to Remus explain the process of making Liquid Luck.
“But the book says twelve! Why wouldn’t I listen to the author?!” Peter lowly shouted, gripping his hair in frustration.
“He literally wrote the book! Why would it be wrong, Remus?” You asked, laying your head in hands.
Remus sighed and rubbed his temples, feeling an oncoming headache from how many times you both had complained.
“It’s a typo, I asked professor slughorn and he said it was thirteen.” He patiently explained.
Peter slapped down his quill and shot back into his chair, “okay! So why didn���t he tell us that then, hmm?”
“I swear to all things holy they just want us to fail,” you said shaking your head.
Remus ran his hands in his hair and let them rest on his neck. “They don’t want you to fail, it was just a typo and I’m sure Slughorn will mention it.”
Peter squinted his eyes at Remus. “Why do I not believe yo—”
He was cut off by a pair of hands shaking his shoulders, “who would ever not believe our beloved Moony?”
A kiss on your cheek made you look away from Sirius and Peter to James’ face inches from yours. “How are you my lovely darling?”
He placed another kiss on your lips this time and you mumbled in between kisses. “I’m good, you?”
James smiled and placed another kiss on your forehead, “better now that I’m with you.”
Sirius made an offended sound and practically slammed his hands on the table earning a shush from Peter. “What do you mean!? Am I not good company? I thought you loved me James?”
James kneeled to the floor next to you and placed his arms on your thighs, “you are, I just like my darlings company better.”
You ran a hand through his messy curls, “aw Jamie, you’re so sweet.”
He gave you a dopey grin that was promptly wiped off when Sirius suddenly threw himself on him ruffling up his messy hair even more. “Aw Jamie poo, you’re so sweet and caring, you—”
“Shove off!” James pushed Sirius off him and stood up.
Sirius took himself off the floor and launched himself onto James again. “Take it back!”
The two boys started wrestling, laughing wildly and spinning around their little area. Peter hurriedly got up with his arms outstretched, “Shush! Shut up, stop it! Shh!”
“Oh my—” you cut yourself off with a shake of your head and a slight laugh from the sight of your boyfriend and his best friend.
Remus shook his head annoyed, “both of you, quit it. Now.” He said like a stern parent.
James and Sirius were progressively getting louder, now shoving each other. James hit one of the bookshelves, and for a moment you all thought it was going to fall but luckily it didn’t.
But that only got the boys more riled up.
“Ow! Don’t pull the hair, you wanker!” Sirius shouted jumping on James’s back and said boy spun around really fast with a shout.
“James! Stop it!” You tried intervening but you only ignored.
Peter jumped in his place slightly. “Shut up! Stop it! Shh! Shh!!” He glanced towards Remus, so he could say something.
Remus was now stood up with his brows raised and an arm stretched out, stressed as they almost dropped a bookshelf. “James, Sirius, quit it now and shut up!”
The taller boy shoved Sirius away with a loud belly laugh, making the boy hit a different bookshelf making it creak as it moved.
All of you froze as it leaned back slowly and then suddenly two loud bangs to resonated throughout the library and dust flew everywhere from two fallen bookshelves.
It was dead silent. James was panting heavily with a dying smile on his face, Sirius was on the ground in front of the fallen bookshelves with his hair covering half his face, Peter was frozen with his arms outstretched, Remus was bent slightly from the bangs that scared him, and you were still in your seat, mouth agape.
It seemed as if time stopped and the only thing to break the spell was a loud yell.
“WHAT IN MERLINS NAME WAS THAT?!”
At the sound of Madam Prince yelling, you all took your leave.
You, James, Sirius, and Peter changed into your animagus forms and took off.
“Wait! No fair! No fair! I can’t turn into one!” Remus scrambled to grab his tote bag and books before running after you all.
A stag, a black dog, a wildcat, a rat, and a tall lanky boy with scars ran through the castle halls in between students that were screaming, laughing, and gasping at the sight of you all causing complete and utter chaos.
“s’ cuse me! Sorry! Move out the way!” Remus yelled struggling to hold all his stuff as he ran.
The next hall over, Professor Mcgonagall furrowed her brows from the loud noises coming from the other hall.
She approached the corner when suddenly a stag appeared in front of her with a rat moving wildly on its antlers. The stag moved side to side before running away with a loud huff.
Next a black dog ran towards her loudly barking, causing her to move to the wall gazing at the three animals.
Then a wildcat ran and jumped on the wall she was against and leaped over her causing the professor to yelp and hold a hand to her chest.
Lastly a tall, sweaty boy, ran the corner panting, with his robes falling off his shoulders, and books nearly falling from his grip.
Professor Mcgonagall stuttered and held a hand in the air towards the boy. “Mr. Lupin? Mr. Lupin!”
Remus barely glanced back, “I’m sorry professor!” He rounded the corner with a loud ‘wait for me! It’s not fair!’ before Madam Prince rounded the corner too panting.
“I-I don’t—” the librarian cut herself off and gazed out the window along with the rest of the students where the unlikely group of animals ran past.
You guessed that Hogwarts had never seen such a group of animals with a panicky boy chasing after said animals very often.
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spatialwave · 1 month
Note
(smutty drabble lol. Definitely NSFW)
So obviously Angus doesn't have much experience being a munch but once he learns with you, oh lord get ready.
Forget about wearing skirts in front of him cuz he won't give you a moment's peace. He'll be trying to get it at the movies, the back shelves of the library, hell even when  your parents step out of the room after Sunday dinner. He has a fever and the only known cure is making you cum.
Don't get me wrong he loves fucking you or having you ride him, your tits bouncing in his face. But there's something else that really gets him going, how you gasp his name when he slides his fingers inside or the way you grab his curls when you're sitting on his face
hehehe, thank you for sending. i think we all deserve a little smutty angus tully drabble in our lives!
part 1… to be continued?
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notes: nsfw. college au. 18+ characters.
getting ready for classes in the morning was one of—if not the—most important tasks of your day. you hadn’t cared an ounce about how other students perceived you, it had nothing to do with having perfectly curled hair or plump, red lips. it revolved around one thing, what you chose to wear and how that affected your boyfriend.
since you had started dating angus tully, going several months strong, the two of you had eagerly explored each other’s bodies. you two followed your hormonal urges and taught each other so many things—what made you whine in pleasure or what had you shaking and crying, begging for more. it was a glorious time of your life, growing used to pulling the tall boy into your dorm room and fucking between classes, his cock buried into the back of your throat or deep inside your pussy.
you spent countless hours every night learning what made angus squirm, how his hips twitched when you’d rub your thumb over the tip of his cock, smearing the pre-cum that leaked out. you hadn’t been prepared for his own enthusiasm, watching anxiously with half-lidded eyes as he kissed down your stomach until he lifted your skirt and pulled your panties aside.
he was slow and meticulous, perhaps a bit unsure, eventually finding your clit and letting his tongue circle the nub slowly—quicker, seeing how that made you react. he licked you up and down slowly, completely tasting and drinking you in, those big brown eyes of his not breaking as he learned every inch of your body.
it took him a couple times of eating you out to be confident in his abilities, successfully making you cum for the first time and watching in awe as your pussy tightened around his fingers as he lapped at your swollen clit. it was addicting, to feel your thighs squeezing around his head, your hands gripping at his curls as your voice cracked when moaning out his name. it was his favourite pastime.
today, you decided to wear a skirt. you knew the implications of your decisions as you hiked it up just an inch or two higher and smoothed down the blouse you tucked into it. you were content, smiling to yourself in the mirror as you wondered where your boyfriend would first find you.
these days were the best because you’d find yourself already so goddamn horny as you walked through campus, anticipating seeing angus. it was late thursday morning, which meant angus had didn’t have class until one o’clock. you ventured to the library, one of the few places you’d usually find him—and when you did, you didn’t bother getting his attention.
he sat at one of the desks in the centre of the library where it held the most traffic, his brows furrowed as he scoured an encyclopedia and scribbled away at a piece of paper. a final essay, no doubt. what a shame that he would soon be forgetting all of what he’d just read.
it was always like a game to you, finding angus in a sea of students and wondering how long it would take for him to spot you. you stood at one of the bookshelves that were near the seating area, right at the end as you pretended to look over the textbooks. medical textbooks, far from your own degree of interest, but your intent was to get up on your tiptoes and reach for something—your skirt riding up.
a quick glance over your shoulder, angus’ face still tilted down and fixated on the words of his text. with furrowed brows and a slight huff, you purposefully knocked one of the textbooks onto the ground. the loud noise startled many students, including your boyfriend.
you made eye contact for a brief moment, only for you to spin around quickly and pick up the book, bending over. your skin felt hot now that you knew his eyes were on you. staring at you with desire, undressing you, all while you’re turned away from him and trying to get your breathing under control.
slowly, you slip the textbook back up into its slot, taking one more shy look over your shoulder. you watched angus as he closed his books, shoving them hastily into his book bag and you took this as a sign to make way for a deserted area. your heart thumped hard in your chest as you absently smoothed down your skirt while you walked, drifting further and further into the depths of the library.
to ease the anticipation and ground yourself in the moment, you lifted a hand so your fingers grazed the spines of each book you passed by. you hadn’t seen any students in this area yet, only feeling the presence of angus turning into the aisle behind you.
“hey,” he called out, keeping his voice quiet, but you could hear the hunger in his voice. you slowed your steps, feeling his hand wrap around your wrist and within a few short moments your back was pressed against the shelf and his lips were against yours.
you moaned easily into his mouth, your lips parting almost immediately as you slid your arms around his neck and tugged on his curls with your hands, “do you like the skirt?” you mumbled messily against his lips, gasping as he pressed his thigh between your legs so you could rub against him to your heart’s desire. you needed the friction—badly.
“what do you think?” he chuckled lowly as his lips pulled away from yours, trailing down your jaw and to your neck. he nipped at the skin and sucked, leaving one or two marks near the collar of your blouse that would leave you wearing turtlenecks for the next few days, “fuck, i need you here,” he breathed, groaning as his hands fell to your hips and helped you roll and grind against his thigh.
“please,” you whimpered quietly, having to reach a hand to cover your mouth as angus kissed down your neck then dropped to his knees in front of you. the sight of this alone made you squirm, feeling the wetness build in your panties—ones you almost didn’t wear today.
angus took a quick look around before he lifted up your skirt, licking his lips as he partially tucked it up into the waistband so the fabric wouldn’t fall in his face. he preferred to be able to look up at you when he ate you out.
“these are my favourite ones,” he murmured in a praise-like tone, his fingers reaching up and tugging aside the black, lacy panties that covered your aching cunt.
his hot breath against you made your jaw go slack and a shiver send up your spine. you’d been in this position countless of times, legs spread and arms clutching to the nearest surfaces to keep you held up. thighs quivering and knees feeling like they could give out any second, with angus between them.
you looked down at him, biting hard on your bottom lip as his tongue circled your clit painstakingly slow—wanting to see you become a puddle because of him.
taking a quick look around and sensing no one else, you allowed yourself to let out the quietest whimper as you rolled your pussy along his mouth. he loved when you did that, fucking yourself on his tongue as he flattened it and tasted your juices, pushing it inside you. one hand lifting your right thigh, pulling it over his left shoulder, the other hand teasing your wet folds.
“angus,” you whimpered as he kept his slow movements, savouring you like a delicious meal as one of his fingers teased your entrance. you both knew you didn’t have the luxury of time, but he couldn’t help but tease you and wait for you to beg, “please.” you breathed, needing more from him. needing to be devoured, “please.”
satisfied, angus pushed two fingers into you, giving you the stretch and fullness that you desired. your head fell back and hit the books behind you, hands gripping tighter on the shelves as his fingers fucked you well and he sucked at your sensitive, swollen clit.
not once did he remove his eyes from you, watching as you had to try keep your voice down, breathing his name out as his fingers curled inside you and pressed against your g-spot, nearly making you scream out his name. he knew every part of you and you fucking loved him for that.
one hand flew down to his wild hair, tugging on his curls as you started to fuck yourself on his fingers, his mouth and chin wet from the way he abused your cunt that was growing tighter and tighter with each thrust of his fingers. he inserted a third, moaning filthily against you when you tugged harder on his hair, closing your eyes shut.
“cum for me,” he told you, pulling his mouth away for a moment so he could command you, “look at me.”
you opened your eyes obediently, looking at him as he smiled up at you. he loved when you looked so disheveled and fucked into euphoria, eyes half-lidded, lips parted and breathing heavy.
he returned his mouth to you, not easing you back into it. his tongue flicked at your clit, sucking on it and lapping at the folds while three of his fingers pummelled deep into your pussy.
that was enough to make your abdomen tighten, the heat inside you snapping when he curled his fingers again and left you shaking. your hips twitched and thighs tensed up as you moaned—quite a bit louder than you should’ve. your orgasm washed over you and left your clit pulsing under the touch of his tongue, wetting his fingers and face as your rocked yourself to completion.
if there was one thing angus loved, it was seeing how hot you looked when you came all over his face.
you felt the smile on his lips as your body slowed and your hushed whimpers came to a standstill, his fingers eventually pulling out of you and removing his mouth. he made sure to slip your panties back into place and untuck your skirt so it covered you up, like nothing ever happened.
through laboured breaths, you watched as angus stood up, smirking as he wiped his mouth and chin, brown eyes watching you recover. all you could do was give him a lazy, tired smile as you leaned all of your weight back onto the shelves.
“are you going to your afternoon class?” you breathed the question out quietly, batting your lashes as you lifted a hand up to his jaw, caressing him.
“fuck no,” he chuckled, wrapping his hand around your wrist and tugging you out of the library and to his dorm.
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kitthepurplepotato · 3 months
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Chapter 14 - That’s what friends are for
Summary: Izuku shows his Sweet Pea around his secret lair. Katsuki doesn’t appreciate being ignored.
One loaf of bread was murdered during the making of chapter. Blame Kirishima.
Warnings: Swear words, a lot of kisses
First Chapter Master List
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•
“I guess, I owe you an explanation.” Izuku sighs, looking anywhere but you, his cheeks tinted pink.
Honestly, you would be happier to just get a kiss, but the state of this “secret lair” is also quite concerning and would probably be nice for it to make some sense to you before you end up calling the mental hospital on the poor guy.
“That would certainly be helpful, Izu.”
The walls all covered with bookshelves on all the sides except the one with the “door”. There is a massive cork board there filled with pictures, newspaper cutouts and official statements from the agency covering up a map of the word. There is also a bigger map just of japan, that one is filled with several printouts, most of them around the Tokyo area but there are a few articles pinned to Rishiri and Wakkanai in the Hokkaido prefecture then another several to Korsakov and Nevelks in Russia.
The bookshelf are half filled with books, mostly of geography, history and other topics that might come in handy for a case and the other half is filled with thousands of notebooks, all looking worn out from the constant use.
There is a massive corner desktop a meter away from the actual corner so there is enough space for Izuku to move around the bookshelves. He could walk circles around the whole place with no problem and knowing how restless Izuku he probably did that a several thousand times already. The left part of the desktop is full of paperwork and the other one has the same single person CCTV setup as the people in his agency. By the look of it he’s been looking at a footage of a harbor before you came here.
“Okay, so…” Izuku takes a deep breath. “These notebooks are the ones I’ve written about the heroes when I was young. I’ve kept up with this hobby so there are also a few new ones there about the current heroes. This place was supposed to be my little geek corner where I can write my silly little notes and geek out over quirks. This… has changed a lot since this case came by. This place was supposed to be my mind palace, a place where I can re-gain my motivation, my strength, to remember my roots. The cork board on the wall is about this case as well. I think I’ve found a connection between Japan and Russia. I saw an unregistered ship on the CCTV leaving the harbor in Russia heading our way, probably full of illegal drugs or props, I don’t really know. I sent my findings over to my team an hour ago. They probably have all of this information anyway but Katsuki asked everyone to leave me out of the work e-mails for the time being and it frustrates me to not know how the case is going…” frustrated tears roll down Izuku’s cheeks. You can’t help but run over to your boyfriend and hug him to soothe his troubled soul.
“You know I understand why you are doing this, right?” You mumble into his ear and Izuku starts sobbing. “You know you should’ve just told me this and I would have understood. Katsuki made a massive mistake by leaving you out of this. I know it came from a good place but he should have known you won’t be able to sleep well without seeing those e-emails, seeing that they are indeed working on the case.”
“I’ll stop, Sweets. I swear this is the last time…” Izuku begs, but there is no reason for him to do so.
“You don’t need to, Izuku. I’m not mad. You just need to take a deep breath. Relax. Then come back here, do your thing for a few hours and once you close that door, leave all the pain behind. I don’t think you working on this case is a bad thing.” You admit. “It doesn’t make your recovery longer and it helps to soothe your soul knowing that you did your part. As I said, I understand. We will talk to Katsuki, okay?”
“That won’t make this place feel less dreadful, though. It’s not… fun to be here anymore and I hate that.” Izuku mumbles with his cheeks red.
“I can help with that.” You give Izuku a cheeky smile and he perks up right away.
“Tell me the plan, boss.”
“Are those papers on your desk important?” You nod towards the massive mess and Izuku looks at you with a confused face. He’s so cute, even with the dried tears dirtying his puffy cheeks.
“Let’s make paper cranes. Whoever does the most wins.” You give Izuku a shit eating grin while he stares at you incredulously.
“That’s your big plan, Sweets?” Izuku finally laughs, the sound loud and airy. Oh how much you missed that laugh.
“You are laughing, aren’t you? So shut the fuck up and get to work.”
Izuku is terrible at this. His fingers are too chunky to make the cranes look neat but he does his best and the frustration on his face is playful, a face of a kid ready for a challenge. It takes him a whole hour to get the hang of it but after that you two manage to clear out the desk almost completely. There are only a few papers left now, and there are at least 30 cranes sitting on the keyboard, most of them made by you but there is a constant smile on Izuku’s face so the pain in your fingers was definitely worth it.
“And now that the desk is almost clean…” You push yourself up to sit down on it, legs sprawled out to make space for Izuku to come between them. “It’s time for the boss to reward his hard-working assistant with some cheeky kisses!”
Izuku snorts. It’s hilarious.
“Oh, office AU? Forbidden love? I love that trope!”
Now it’s your time you laugh like a maniac.
“Oh my god, Izuku, you sound like me, that’s unacceptable!”
“Hey, where’s the respect for the big bad boss?” Izuku uses black whip pull you towards him, tentacles snaking around your waist until there is no space between you two at all.
“Are we actually gonna role play?” You ask between two snickers.
“No, it’s really fucking weird to be honest.” He giggles back and attacks your mouth with so much fervor you barely have time to reciprocate first but after a few seconds you finally kiss back, your legs snaking around his middle to pull him even closer. The kisses get deeper and deeper as the time goes, his tongue dancing with yours and you somehow end up sprawled on the desktop, your neck bent in a really uncomfortable way as you try to keep your posture so he can kiss you deeply. Izuku takes your head in his hand to help with the strain of your neck, and you just kiss and kiss and kiss, devouring the other until Izuku’s stomach makes a growling noise and you both start laughing, completely flushed and lips red.
“Wanna get a home made bento from me so we can share it on the rooftop of our office and share cheeky kisses while eating?”
“I’m quite sure those fanfictions usually end with the secretary being bent over a desk screaming the boss’s name.” Izuku retorts cheekily. You can’t help but laugh out loud again.
“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” You mumble as you pepper small kisses on Izuku’s lips who’s smiling like an idiot, content and happy for once.
“Don’t tell her, she’ll cry.” Izuku help you up with one hand and makes his way towards the exit. “Come on, I’m starving.” Izuku takes your hand and pulls you forward but he only makes a few steps before your back ends up against the hallway wall. Izuku steals a few more passionate kisses, moaning about not being able to use his other hand then walks towards the main exit again then stops after a few meters and kisses you again like he’s trying to make up for the time wasted in the last 7 days. Eventually, you make it to the exit, stumbling out of the hallway in each other’s arms (well, one arm in Izuku’s case. Duh.) but a loud “OI” coming from Izuku’s bed ruins the moment.
Katsuki and Eijirou are sitting on the end of the bed, Eijirou looking smug with a knowing smile on his face while Katsuki blushes like a virgin seeing people making out for the first time.
“I told you there is no reason to freak out, Kats.” Eijirou says loudly, a shit eating grin blooming on his face.
“Why the fuck do they even have phones if they don’t fucking use them?!” Katsuki throws your phone in your face and you barely catch it before it hits you straight in the face. You almost burst out laughing as you read the messages.
Group chat: Deku updates
2 days ago
You: He’s still not talking to me. He looks tired. I don’t think he sleeps properly.
Ei: That does sound like Izuku. Don’t worry. He’ll be back in a few more days. Did he eat?
You: Yeah, a bit.
Katsuki: All good, then.
Today
Katsuki: I’m going to the store, need anything?
Katsuki: That protein shit Deku likes is on sale, want me to buy some?
Katsuki: Oi
Katsuki: Don’t fucking ignore me you punk
Katsuki: I bought 10 bags of it, good luck putting that away, you piece of shit.
Katsuki: Oh, they have a limited edition All Might chocolate, there is only one left!
Katsuki: Oh well, someone bought it and ate it. How sad. *picture of Katsuki biting All Might’s head off.*
Katsuki: WHY ARE YOU NOT RESPONDING YOU FUCKING FREELOADER
Katsuki: DEKU ISN’T RESPONDING EITHER WHAT THE FUCK
Katsuki: I’M COMING OVER AND I’LL SHOVE YOUR STUPID PHONES INTO YOUR ASSES YOU USELESS BUNCH!!!
“So here I was, fucking worrying my ass off about you two, while you were busy fucking in Izuku’s secret room. Peachy. Also, I ate the food on the table. It was fucking cold anyway. Fuck you.”
Izuku actually gawks at that, his stomach making a rumbling noise just a second after.
“What Katsuki is trying to say is that we ate the cold food and made you guys some lovely spicy lentil soup instead as it’s way past breakfast anyway. We went into a cute little bakery on our way and got you guys some fresh bread! It was still hot when we bought it!” Eijirou says with dazzling eyes.
“What Ei is trying to say is that he bought two loaves of fresh bread and ate one of them on the way here. The whole fucking loaf. He just… tore into it like an animal. I think I want to divorce. I’m living with a monster.”
“Says the guy who eats a full ass ghost pepper like it’s a fucking apple.”
“I ship you guys so much.” You mumble out without meaning to and Izuku starts giggling.
“You are such a nerd.”
“I’ve never thought I’ll hear Izuku saying that to anyone. You two really are two peas in a pod.” Eijirou adds on, but Katsuki is done with the small talk and ushers everyone to go to eat.
The soup is amazing and when you bring up the topic about the e-mails, Katsuki is surprisingly understanding.
“If you think that’s okay then… yeah, we can do that.”
And that’s it. A few hours after that Izuku gets his first work e-mail and he almost cries from happiness because his findings were actually right and the guys managed to pinpoint the exact location of their warehouse just an hour after he sent them the e-mail.
Then he actually cries, but this time, from the relief.
“This week was so bad. I missed you much. I’m so tired and so stressed about to future, this fucking cast is so itchy and my butt hurts from all the sitting!” Izuku laughs in the middle of his crying fit, somehow happy about feeling all of those things all at once. “Fuck, I thought being stressed is the worst thing but whatever I’ve been through this week was far worse than anything I’ve ever felt. I was so empty. I swear my soul wasn’t a part of my own body. It was so terrible, Sweets! I would rather get another blast in my chest than go through another week like this!”
“Don’t say that!” You reprimand right away. “Also, whatever it was, it’s over now. You are back. You’ll be fine. 2 more weeks and the cast will be gone, too. Now cuddle the shit out of me, you stupid.” You plop yourself down next to him on the sofa, ready to be loved.
“Kiss attack!” Izuku is back to his normal self, giggling and laughing as he kisses you all over until it’s time to go to bed… And finally, you don’t need to go to bed alone.
“I love you, Sweets.” Izuku mumbles, his face hidden in your neck as per usual. The bed is so warm and comforting you can barely keep yourself from falling asleep in the middle of your answer.
“I love you too, Izu-Izu.”
… next chapter!
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
- Jesus Christ, finally done with the angst! I hated every second! Every single one of it!!!!
- The next chapter might be late, I got hooked on a manga called “signs of affection”. The first few episodes of the anime is out if you guys wanna give it a go! I swear it’s the cutest shit I’ve ever read/watched! So yeah, I binged the whole manga in a few days after I watched the first episode but I got so distracted I haven’t written the new chapter yet so if it’s late, I’m sorry. I also posted all the angst chapters 1-2 days ahead of my usual schedule so… LET ME BREATHE 😂
- I choose Korsakov and Nevelks because they are the “closest” cities to Japan. Just check the map and you will see the vision. It’s not important though, I won’t go into too much details about the case in the future, but I thought it would be nice to have a peek into it!
- While writing this chapter I realized that technically, Izuku would be able to keep himself on top with the help of black whip… Now the only question is; are these two desperate enough to use Black Whip at their first time or do they wait until Izuku’s hand is healed completely and can lean on it? Let me know what you think. 😂
- Eijirou’s terrible way of eating bread was actually inspired by me. 😂 I’m a celiac so I can’t have bread and most of the gluten free breads taste like ass. There was this small bakery a few streets down from my flat, in Budapest, Hungary, and they were selling freshly made GF bread. Me and my friends went over to my flat and I was too hungry so I took the whole bread out of the packaging and literally just tore into it like an animal and stuffed half of the bread into my mouth in one go and my friend almost died. (Mind you, I’m really small, 158 cm and 45 kg 😂) She couldn’t look into my eyes the whole day. I still miss that bread so much that every time my bestie comes over to England I ask her to bring me some haha
- The next chapter will be called Br0cc0liB0i! 😂
- Also, have you seen the new Kirishima x reader ficc I started to post? It’s super fluffy and cute! Check it out! Please!
TL: @garfieldthomas @porusuniverse @stickygumchewer @sixxze @mily-moo @aei-sedai-moiraine @aymasakusa @katsuari @kenzie-deadly @shiviwrites07 @lukerycyja-reblogs @cloroxisadelectabletreat @coffeent @kisskissshutmydoor @bobcar1 @yazminetrahan @cringefan @ronimacaroni77 @thekookiecorner @dangerousluv1 @emperatris-rinaka @shotos-angelic-whore @angelsdemonsmonsters @norvacaine @rei165 @unofficialmuilover @yao-ai @happydragonfrog @eeerreehhh @vinivave
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i8
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fluff
t/w: Distrust/Suspension, descriptive kiss and make out.
a/n:....so im alive and my exams didn't kill me ^^. but it did take me half a month to actually post something soooo~ anyways, I hope everyone is doing well and enjoy! This has been sitting in my drafts since November I feel like it could still be better but i don't know how T-T
Away from the chaos and social ramble of the Christmas gathering, Schlatt escaped into a faraway room on the second floor which happened to look like a small study. The walls adjacent to the door were lined with ceiling-length bookshelves, deep mahogany in colour, and in between one of the shelves was a fireplace. Dividing the room into two, there was an area for sitting, with a couch and coffee table in front of the fireplace, and there was an area for writing which had a large desk opposite to the couches. The balcony was visible through the sliding glass doors, it had upon it a thick layer of untouched snow.
It was easily brought to Schlatt's attention that even this room was not safe from holiday decoration; garlands lined the tops of the bookcases and alternating green and red stockings hung on the deck of the fireplace. The centre coffee table was decorated with for-show gift boxes wrapped in various colours. Even the scent of sugary Christmas treats and savoury snacks managed to sneak into the room. 
Quietness filled the room, for the most part, Schlatt could only hear the low chatter of everyone speaking downstairs since most of it was drowned.
Though the holiday season was joyous and everyone gathered happily to mingle with one another, Schlatt found himself standing alone in the room farthest from everyone. There seemed to be a recurrence of Schlatt's tight-lipped frown and furrowed brows. 
Standing turned into pacing.
And with pacing followed the feeling of uneasiness and doubt.
Schlatt was thinking, once again for the nth time this month, about you. 
Your sly flirting and paying special attention towards Schlatt had not gone unnoticed. Your attempts had planted a seed of curiosity in him which slowly but surely blossomed into fondness. He himself was pleasantly surprised by this. Flattered even to the point of catching himself smiling like an idiot at the prospect of what could happen and where it could lead. 
But these thoughts were short-lived as his mind too quickly was plagued with distrust.
Schlatt was deep in thought, trying to detangle his pasts from his present while staring out into the heavy snowfall. The wind carried the snow in fluffy white swirls. The door handle turned and he wasn't sure if you were the last person he wanted to see or the first. His thoughts were like a ball of yarn that fell prey to Jambo's paws. 
"Hey." 
Schlatt only nodded back at you, taking notice of the two mugs that you were holding and carefully walked in with. 
"Not liking the party?" You asked, handing him a red mug of hot chocolate. The mug was piled with marshmallows and he distinctly remembered that there was a shortage of marshmallows in the kitchen. You must've saved some for him or gone to the extent of going out and buying some. Schlatt's fingers ever so slightly grazed yours and you wanted to make it last as long as you could, taking a step towards him... but within a split second, he retrieved his hand back awkwardly. He averted his attention to the books on the shelf.  
Schlatt was wearing his usual clothes; a black sweatshirt with beige pants and white sneakers. He looked the furthest from having a festive spirit. His chestnut hair never failed to look soft, even when going through another phase of change.
Your gaze on him was gentle, done without realising it. Every time you looked at him, his features would captivate your attention; the way he’d fold his arms, furrowed his brows or the way his bottom lip would pout sometimes. Though it is impossible, you would admire him for hours if you could. Schlatt had somehow gotten used to it, the feeling of your eyes trained on him. He could almost always tell whenever you were looking at him. "What are you trying to do?" he asked, breaking the quiet.
Giving him a questioning look, your brows knit as you slightly shook your head. "What am I trying to do?" 
"You know," Schlatt turned, "Your advances. Your sudden change in behaviour and your particular attention to me." 
"Are they… unwelcomed?" 
His face felt warm at the question. Schlatt huffed out in what seemed to be annoyance, "And that. All that endless teasing or whatever it is."
"I thought I was a bit more subtle with it but I guess..." You said more to yourself than him, shrugging in slight embarrassment. You placed your mug of hot chocolate down on the table and took a step closer to him. With the balcony to your side, you felt the slight chill of the weather passing through the glass doors. "So? Are you going to do anything with that information?" 
The small curl of your lips made Schlatt's eyes narrow. The gaze they held- or rather the glare, was broken for a split second, looking away from you to the side. When his eyes drew back, you first thought that you saw anger in them but you quickly found it to be frustration. Indecisiveness even. "A fling? Like, is that what you're looking for?
"I'm actually not." You said, taken aback by his words. But not shaken. Have your actions not written everything out by now? You leaned on the glass door with your shoulder, the cold pressing through your sweater. "You think I'm a fling type of person?" 
Schlatt again looked at you, between your eyes from left to right and back. Really searching for something. "I'm just...being careful." 
"I'm looking for a lot more than just a fling." Sighing, you felt dejected. "I was." You tried to approach him slowly and revealed your likeness by one small fraction at a time. But for whatever reason, his walls seemed to only stand taller and guarded heavily. Looking down, your hope was slipping. With now a cold shoulder, you leaned off of the door to leave the room as well as Schlatt. 
But catching you by surprise, Schlatt stepped in front of you. Not only did he block your path to the door but he had you standing between the glass door and himself, leaving as little as a few inches between you two. Schlatt raised one hand towards you and instinctively you took another step back and bumped into the glass. His fingers brushed against your hair as he plucked something out of it.
The absolute closeness and the tension of it had your nerves. Be it the way he looked at you or the pent-up longing you had harboured for him, words escaped your lips before you could stop them. "My feelings for you are genuine Schlatt. They," Your heart was beating up your throat "... are as exactly as I've shown them." 
Held between his index finger and thumb was a red berry. You get caught off guard by it. Schlatt looked up and you followed his gaze. There were green branches, adorning long thin leaves and ruby red berries. Tied to the frame of the balcony door by a shimmering red ribbon was a small bouquet of mistletoe.
Without taking your eyes away from the berry caught between his fingers, you spoke, "Do I still have to say more?"
Your anticipation silenced and the distance between the two of you finally closed. His lips on yours were gentle. They barely even pressed down on yours. The timidness showed through as his hands remained where they were, even though they wanted to lace with yours or hang around your waist. It was as though he was testing the waters- making sure you were okay with this. Making sure he was okay with this. Schlatt looked for signs of discomfort, whether you wanted to stop, step back, or perhaps rethink your likeness of him. But you didn't. Eyes closed and hand moving to his chest on its own accord. You kissed him back, just as gently as he did.
Soft.
His lips were unusually soft. Yes you had imagined that they would be so but to actually feel them for the first time, your mind had stopped working. All you would focus on was the pressure of him on you. 
Schlatt, having initiated the kiss first, was also the first to pull away. His habit of staring at you- into you, did not seem to cease. Looking into your eyes, looking for something- anything that could possibly hint or prove his suspicions to be true. But staring back at him was just you. You and your dilated pupils drawn on him showed only trust and honest intentions. 
“If you try anything-” Schatt started.
“-Nothing you wouldn’t like.” your small voice retorted before he could finish. Your teasing once again brought out the redness of his face, along with your own this time. In a swift motion, Schlatt’s hand moved to flatten against the door with a thud. With his hand right next to your head, you felt even more enclosed than before. You had a way of getting on his nerves, without even trying
There was another beat of silence that filled the room. Schlatt remained in the same position, and so did you. Standing in each other's space, you were almost sharing the same breath. You had not realised but this single small kiss made your chest heave. You continued to heaven as you stared into Schlatt’s eyes. With such closeness, you swore they were a type of brown you had never seen. Unique and so deep, you felt being pulled into them.
Just then, slicing into the thick silence, a voice called out from you. One of your friends was looking for you and you could hear their footsteps in the hallway from inside the room. They were looking for you to help them with something.
Your attention diverted, you were about to call back to the voice, saying that you’ll be there just in a minute. But before you could do so, your lips were drawn and sealed with Schlatt’s. Again. What was different this time was that he did not hold back. That timidness he showed before had gone… It was replaced with some sort of fire.
The voice drifted away.
Schlatt pulled at you. Your voice of surprise was muffled by the way he kissed you. Your noses pressed into each other's faces. Taking another step forward, Schlatt had your back pressed on the glass. A shiver crawled up your back and you pushed away from it, in turn pressing into Schlatt’s broad figure. The hand beside your head cupped your face and his other hand finally got to hang on your waist. Your own hands were sitting on his shoulder and the nape of his neck. The way he led the kiss showed no signs of timidness. He led it with intention, lacking no passion.
A sort of fire kindled within him. 
The heavy snowfall settled and the wind ceased to howl. Outside, past the glass doors of the balcony, the night sky was sprinkled with stars and the ground below, a blanket of white snow layed untouched. The weather would continue to be crisp and cold, but with what you ignited within Schlatt, you would be kept warm throughout your winter.
++++++
Engage and let me know if/how you like the writing. Reblogging/Sharing is much appreciated.
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vendetta-if · 10 months
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Hello! Just wanted to drop by and say that your story and writing style are amazing.
And on a separate note, I’ve had this ask for a while now, and was contemplating whether or not to send it in, but then I saw you answer that other ask about the ROs special interests/hobbies. So now I can’t get it out of my mind lol. I was wondering how Rin would react if reserved MC decided to bring them to their “secret place” where they go to unwind and recharge, only to find out that it’s a music room with the perfect ambience, floor to ceiling windows, and a grand piano that is nestled in the middle of it all. Then MC plays several pieces for them (MC is a secret virtuoso pianist, but Ash and the fam know ofc. MC keeps it to themself ‘cause music is something intimate to them so Rin is the first person outside of their fam that they share it to 💕.) Then maybe at the end MC says something along the lines of “Stay.” Cuz well, we all know everything that happened to MC. If it’s alright with u ofc. Either way, thank you and I hope you have a great day/night dear author!
Aww thank you for the kind words! 💖 And the scenario you’re talking about is so sweet 🥺 I love it, especially since Rin is a classical music enthusiast (thanks to their mom).
I might have gotten a bit carried away and the little drabble ends up being longer than expected and might even be considered a short story, but I hope you and other Rin-mancers can enjoy it! 🥰
* * * *
You groan quietly as you bring your hands up to your temples and start to massage. Forcing precognition visions too much, or to see too far ahead is never a pleasant experience and you can already feel the familiar and loathed throb forming around your skull.
But, as always, it’s a side effect that you willingly take on for the greater good of your family and their allies. And right now, you’re doing it for the Morozov—namely Sasha.
“Hey,” you hear them say quietly from beside you, the concern is clear even through that one word alone. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, just a minor headache,” you answer, trying to keep the strain out of your voice with mixed results. “It’ll go away on its own in due time. Nothing I can’t handle.”
But still, a pain in the ass to handle…
There’s a moment of silence as your words hang in the air. You can’t really see what Sasha is doing or what expression they’re wearing on their face or whether they believe what you just said. Your eyes are shut in a vain attempt to curb the headache from getting worse.
A gentle touch to your shoulder almost make you jump, and you open your eyes to see Sasha’s living room coming into focus before finally turning to face them. Their face is carved with a mix of guilt, concern, but also something that you can’t really put your finger on. Hopefulness? A hint of excitement even?
But before you can analyze it even further, Sasha quickly avert their gaze shyly and you swear you see hints of a blush spreading on their cheeks. Or maybe it’s a trick of the afternoon light from the window behind you.
“I… I want to show you something. Maybe it’ll help you with your headache as well,” they mutter quietly before quickly adding, “But only if you want to, of course!”
You blink at them and your mouth moves before your mind can even catch up. “Sure,” you reply.
Sasha perks up and they reach down to grab your hand, pulling to help you get on your feet. You don’t resist at all and let them guide you through their penthouse. You’re still stunned and you can’t help but stare at your joined hands.
You’ve been to the penthouse a few times, but never went farther than the living room and kitchen area, and Sasha is leading you down the hallway toward a door at the end of the corridor.
Sasha opens the door and you’re a bit surprised. The room seems to be a leisure room with the far wall and the wall to the right fully covered in full-length window panes overlooking the city. To the left are two tall bookshelves and a little cozy seating area and in the middle, like the crown jewel of the room, is a grand piano, the brand “Steinway & Sons” is plastered on the side proudly.
“Didn’t know you play piano…” you say, running your fingers on the smooth surface of the piano as you step closer.
Sasha rubs the back of their neck shyly. “It’s a hobby of mine that I… never really bother telling those outside of my family about.”
“I know a lot of people who wouldn’t stop cawing about it if they could play the piano,” you chuckle quietly and Sasha does the same as well.
“Well, you said you’re having a headache, so I’m thinking that… I can maybe… play you a song. Maybe it’ll help,” they stutter a bit, looking anywhere else but at you.
You smile, “Sure, I’d love that.” And you see Sasha’s face light up. “I’ll be sitting right over there.” You point at the nearest armchair before walking towards it and plopping down.
And then, Sasha starts playing. In just the first few notes, you manage to identify the song. It’s “Liebestraum No. 3” by Liszt. “Dream of Love” the title translates to and befitting of it, the song is beautiful, and whimsical, and airy, reminding you of a gentle day in Spring, and Sasha plays it masterfully.
You wonder if Sasha is trying to tell you something from this choice of song…
Usually you close your eyes to savour the song even more, but this time, you find yourself entranced and you can’t look away from Sasha. You feel your headache subsiding as your eyes involuntarily trace the way the afternoon light that’s streaming from the window hit their face, giving it the appearance as if it’s glowing. Their long and slender fingers seem to float and glide up and down the ivory keys as the song hits its crescendo before slowing down once again.
And soon, before you can even realize it, the song is over and Sasha looks at you as you stare at them. You blink, snapping out of your stupor before trying to play it cool, as if you haven’t spent the last few minutes or so staring at them.
Clearing your throat, you stand up and make your way towards them. “Thank you for the wonderful performance. It’s a beautiful song.”
Sasha smiles sheepishly, “Glad you like it. It’s one of my favorite songs as well. Does it help, though? With your headache?”
You nod, “Yes, it worked really well. It seems I know what song to listen to now whenever I have another headache.” And truly, the headache is nothing more than faint pulses now, but whether it the work of the song, or Sasha themself, you don’t know.
Sasha laughs softly. “How about another song? “The Swan” by Saint-Säens or maybe Chopin’s “Nocturne in C Sharp Minor” is more to your liking?”
Rin hesitates. They would honestly love to stay longer and see Sasha play more songs, but also, they’re worried about making things feel awkward. After all, this room feels like Sasha’s personal space, a “secret garden” of some sorts, and you’re intruding on it.
“Thank you for the offer…” you start and you can see Sasha’s smile faltering, making you feel even torn inside. “I should probably go home… I’ve taken enough of your time.”
“Wait,” Sasha says quickly, hand closing around your wrist. “Stay. Please. I enjoy spending time with you…” they mutter shyly.
Ah… You see… This might be as close to a confession that you’ll be getting for now, but still, it makes your stomach flutters all the same—not that you’ll show it outwardly though. That would be too embarrassing for you.
“If you would have me, then…” you reply coyly, smiling inside as Sasha drags you down to sit beside them on the spacious piano bench.
“Yes, I would,” they huff adorably. “Now, what song do you have in mind?”
* * * *
For those who are interested, this is the song that MC is playing in the drabble (and it is indeed one of my fav classical music pieces as well along with the other songs MC suggests 😆).
I would honestly love to learn to play it if not for my pretty small hands that make it harder to reach the far-spaced-out notes (Damn Liszt and his large hands! 😭).
“Liebestraum No.3” by Liszt
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bb-eilish · 1 year
Text
Say please
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pairing; vampire! taehyun x f!reader x vampire!kai/ office!au
warnings; Biting, blood, cunnilingus, implied sex, threesome, boss! taehyun, dom!taehyun, dom!kai, sub!reader, vampires duh, nipple play, dirty talk, degradation, pining, virgin reader, corruption kink.
A/N: this was requested so long ago on wattpad i’m sorry this took me 40 years to write!!
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A constant mantra of ‘fuck’ rang through your head as your heels made running up these stairs a lot more difficult than needed be. You’re late to your first day of your new job, and it’s causing fear to prickle your skin.
Of course, the elevator had to be out, why wouldn’t it? The gross feeling of sweat stuck to the back of your neck as you round another staircase, if it wasn’t for the adrenaline, you’re sure you would simply fall apart. Swinging out your phone hazardously, you check the floor level and realize it’s just the next one, so far you’re only late by 3 minutes.
Shoulders visibly lower in relief as you push the door open and take a deep breath.
“Hello, uh, today is my first day. Could you direct me to Mr. Kang’s office?” You huff out, dabbing your forehead with your sleeve. The woman only smiles at you as she gives you the directions, thank god she didn’t mention anything about the obvious rush you’re in.
His office door is huge as you push it open. Who you presume to be Mr. Kang is leaning against his desk, chatting with another man dressed in a fancy suit. They both whip their heads towards you and it makes heat flood to your face, “Oh! I apologize Mr. Kang, I should’ve knocked. I’ll wait outside!” The man only narrows his eyes at you as he responds, “Nonsense, wait there”. His voice is demanding and crisp and it has your eyes widening a fraction. He starts his conversation again so you take the opportunity to glance around. His office is classily cluttered, dark oak bookshelves line the back wall behind his desk, a small seating area is to your left and a nice window view is to your right.
“You must be Ms. Y/n, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Kai.” The one Mr. Kang was talking to, greets, he even pairs it with a handshake that smoothly turns into a kiss on your knuckles. The feeling of his lips on your skin has your spine straightening out and a shiver snaking up it.
He offers a pretty smile before he leaves through the door behind you. You could practically feel the happiness leave, a sort of bone-deep cold is left in its wake. Your boss’ eyes don’t leave yours as he rounds his desk to take a seat at his chair.
“You’re late.”
“I’m so sorry, there was traffic, and then your elevator was out of order. It won’t happen again.”
He opens his mouth and it sets your heart off once more, your hands fist behind your back in worry as the feeling of your heart beating faster slightly distracts you.
Unpredictably, Mr. Kang shuts his mouth along with his eyes for a second, he breathes heavily through his nose before he gazes at you again. “I expect professionalism, Ms. L/n, don’t make me regret this.” He ends it with a shoo of his hand and you’re gone.
You almost melt against the door when you shut it behind you, blood pumping loudly behind your ears.
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The click of your keyboard starts to eat away at your sanity as you open excel for the millionth time just this morning. Your finger seeks out the A key when your boss’ door is flung open, a woman stomps out of it with a box—filled with a multitude of items—in her arms. Trying not to ogle the scene is difficult, but you mask your struggle by typing faster.
The secretary, Ms. Park, runs as fast as her heels will carry her into the office, and if you strain your ears hard enough you can faintly hear their bickering. The entire office is dead silent aside from the sudden, loud clicking of keyboards. Everyone is eagerly waiting in their office chairs for any ounce of knowledge of what’s going on. Your fake-real typing has led you to finishing the file sheet Mr. Kang had requested this morning, your eyes widen in horror, so you wait. And you wait. And you wait a little longer, till almost everyone is gone, and Ms. Park still hasn’t left.
Sucking in a defeated breath, you close your eyes and push back your wheelie chair, standing to your feet. The printer, sadly, works fast and in no time you have your files ready.
“Here goes nothing.” you think to yourself.
The air is tense, even outside of his office, and it sends a chill down your spine. The handle of his door is an inch away from your hand before a, “Aw, Ms. Y/n. Nice to see you again.”
You jump out of your skin at the sudden conversation the man, who was talking with Mr. Kang earlier, started. What was his name?
“Huening, but you can call me Kai, here were you about to give Taehyun those?” He gestures at the stack of papers in your hand. You clear your throat at the way he basically read your mind but decide to pay no mind to it, “Yes, I’m a little worried to go in…it seems he fired his assistant earlier and..” You trail off, looking back and forth between Kai and the door.
“Aw yes. Here, hand them over, I’ll give them to him for you.” A hand extends to yours and you could practically feel the relief melting off of your shoulders. The way he looks at you has heat settling over your skin though, the gaze he sends you is soft, yet it feels as though he’s staring straight through your anatomy.
“Thank you so much…Kai..” The casual name is foreign in this situation and feels wrong leaving your lips, but before you could correct yourself, he’s nodding at you and swinging open the door. Well, at least it was taken care of, a hand reaches up to feel your, now, warm face as you seek your desk.
Going home feels like a blessing.
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You’ve always loved Friday, especially with this job. You surprisingly had weekends off and you couldn’t be more excited about it.
The day, thankfully, has been slow. A rumor that Mr. Kang is looking for a new assistant spread rather quickly throughout the floor and it showed in..interesting ways. Some of the women on your floor suddenly had shorter skirts and less buttoned buttons, while the men leaked testosterone and sat on individual high horses all day. You rolled your eyes at their petty attempts.
Your heels click and clack as you make your way back to your computer from the water fountain, you can’t wait to go home and lounge finally, especially since it’s 4:30 at the moment and you have an hour left. Excitement courses through you as you sit again.
Ding!
You freeze. An email notification popping up on your computer stares at you. The email itself doesn’t scare you, the fact that it’s from your boss does.
“Dear Ms. (L/n),
Please meet me in my office at 6:00pm sharp, don’t be late.
Sincerely,
Kang Taehyun.”
Blood drains from your face as your reread the email for the umpteenth time. You have got to be kidding! You only had 30 minutes left, now you have to wait till 6. You honestly want to be upset, but worry clouds your mind instead. Is he upset? Did he find out the vending machine malfunctioned and gave you two bags of pretzels instead of just one?
The questions are never ending as you watch everyone else pack up and go home, you wish more than anything to be them.
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Your eyes are drooping by the time your alarm goes off, you had to make sure you wouldn’t be late so you made an alarm for 5:55. The office is eerily quiet as you cover the yawn you inevitably let out. A quick shake of your head has a small bit of sense work it’s way back into your brain as you stand up. You pat down your outfit and step around your desk.
You wearily end up at his door and hesitate a second before knocking.
“Come in.”
A deep breathe helps soothe your nerves as you push open the door and cautiously shut it behind you. Your boss leans back and clasps his hands. You have to admit, you were gifted with an absolutely smoking boss. It’s no secret he’s undeniably attractive and it makes talking to him that much harder.
“You wanted to see me?” Your voice is soft as you shrink into yourself from his predatory gaze.
“As you probably know, Ms. (L/n). I am in need of a new assistant. I read your work yesterday and I must say, it was excellent. I want you to be my assistant.” Your eyes widen as he continues, “But, I must know we work well together first.” He pauses to scribble something down on a piece of paper, “Sir, thank you so much. I’d love to be your assista-“
“Be at this address by 7pm tomorrow.” He cuts you off, his face is unimpressed—per usual. Your heart suddenly sinks to your feet at his demand, his house? Dinner? You will admit you’ve never been in this situation before, but there’s no way you can turn it down.
“Oh—of course, I’ll be there.” You nervously smile before he dismisses you.
The large door shuts behind you and a deep sigh leaves your lungs. It was definitely nerve wracking to be asked such a thing, but you still have working eyeballs. Your boss is an insanely attractive man and you can’t put out the spark of curiosity that roars to life in your heart.
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Getting ready was surely interesting, did he want you to look work casual? Normal casual? Dinner party ready?
Brainstorming was not helping until you started skimming through your clothes. After what felt like hours of flipping through the fabrics, you found a simple white dress. It wasn’t too extravagant and it wasn’t too casual. The only thing that worried you was the neckline, it sank a little too low for your liking, but time was running out and you weren’t even showered yet.
“Fuck it, I’ll be fine.”
By the time you were showered and put together it was 6:37, pangs of panic and fear struck through you until you were plugging the address into your gps and speeding down the street. Relief washed over your tense form as the robotic voice finally tells you your destination is ahead on the right.
Your eyes widen as your jaw drops, his house was huge? You had no idea there was such large houses only 15 minutes away from your own.
The air was cold as it nipped at your skin, you couldn’t feel it though. The anxiety in your stomach made your skin flush even in the 30 degree weather. Looking back at your car, you almost laugh at the contrast. A normal looking car parked in front of such a luxurious house was comical.
His front door seemed 30 feet taller than you as you sucked in a breath and hesitantly knocked on it. There was a big part of you that wished to simply melt into a puddle and cease to exist, the smaller part of you yearned to have the item of clothing draped over your body yanked off in a timely fashion.
Heat struck your face at the lewd thoughts, heart rate somehow picking up even faster.
“Ms. (Y/n), it’s great to see you again.” Your boss’ friend, Mr. Huening, told you as he slid open the door. He was wearing a red dress shirt with black pants, and the cherry on top were the buttons that sat near his collar that were unbuttoned. Even the smallest peak of his smooth chest piqued your interest.
A beat passes as your eyes drink in his skin before you stutter back to life.
“M-Mr. Huening, it’s nice to see you again as well. Mr. Kang didn’t tell me you’d be joining us.” You pray he didn’t notice your wandering eyes earlier but it seems you’re out of luck as a subtle smirk graces his face. His black hair falls in front of his eyes, making them even more lustful and dark looking.
Said eyes drift down your body, momentarily pausing on the low neckline you’re sporting, before drifting back upward to your nervous features.
“Yes, I came over last minute. I hope that’s not a problem.” His smirk widens as he steps to the side to let you in.
Inside the house was even more grand than the outside, the floor is black marble while the walls are a light gray. He guides you past what you assume is the living room, a gigantic tv is hung on the wall to your left, white matching furniture lingers before it neatly.
Soon you enter another room, a black table takes up the middle and it’s set up nicely. Silverware, plates, and cups are settled on the wood, waiting to be used. Mr. Huening takes it upon himself to pull out the chair at the end of the table for you, and as you sit down, he pushes it back in and leans down dangerously close to ear, “I hope tonight is enjoyable…” before finding his own seat next to you.
The absence of his warm breath across your neck has need start to settle into your skin, a hot flame is brought to life in your abdomen.
“Ms. (L/n), thank you for coming. I hope you didn’t wait long.” Comes from one of the doors, Mr. Kang steps towards the empty chair opposite of his friend. Shaking your head with a small smile, you say, “Oh no, I just arrived. No worries.” Your boss is dressed similar to Mr. Huening, but with a black shirt in place of Huening’s red. It takes all of your might to not stare at him as he sits down.
He nods before somebody walks in quickly, filling all of your plates with pasta and bread and your glasses with an expensive looking wine. When they are finished Mr. Kang dismisses them with a nod of his head.
The eating portion of the night was quiet, though words were not spoken often, eyes wandered and stared. Mr. Huening couldn’t keep his eyes off of you and it only seemed to tick your boss off. He only seemed to add gasoline to the fire in your abdomen, your thighs rubbed together under the table and you wished more than anything that they didn’t notice.
“That was delicious, truly, shall we move this to the living room?” Mr. Huening asks, before either of you could even answer, he rose from his chair and walked over to you, pulling your chair out as well.
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Empty wine glasses sat on the coffee table in front of the couch you were currently being squished on. The two men took it upon themselves to scoot closer and closer until you were sure your panties were drenched.
Answering their questions was easy, keeping your breath steady was proving to be difficult. Especially when they both flung an arm over the back of the couch behind your head. And especially when their questions took a turn, first they were things like “Where did you go to school?” to “Do you have any pets?” to “Are you a virgin?”
The question was asked so innocently it took you off guard, yet their faces didn’t change. It’s like they asked the most casual question.
“O-oh, yes….I am.” Your skin flushed as the neckline you were wearing suddenly felt very exposing. The slight breeze you felt through it brought a shiver down your spine. You gulped down a gasp when their cold fingers started to tickle the skin of your exposed thighs, hands gaining more confidence by the second.
Both men hummed at your answer. The air around was like lava as you breathed it in, and it didn’t help that their hands found their places on your knees and thighs.
“Oops.”
The clinking of change meeting the floor catches your attention, a quarter lays on the dark marble a few feet in front of you.
“I’m sorry, could you grab that for me, Doll?”
A light shuddered breath left your lips as you nod and bend over to grab the change. You’re not able to make eye contact with him as you pass the quarter back, the skin of his hands are still ice cold as he plucks it from your fingers.
“She smells great doesn’t she, Taehyun? Her little heart is going so fast, it’s cute really.” Mr. Huening mutters across to his friend as he lessens the distance between himself and your neck. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion as your boss rolls his eyes with a sigh. “I really thought this was going to be different.”
“Uh, what-what do you mean?” It’s becoming difficult to speak as the man next to you noses your pulse point greedily, even more so when his frigid hands drift up the expanse of your thigh.
“It seems my friend over here can’t keep it in his pants, so, what do you say?”
Was this how you wanted to lose your virginity? The thought plagues you as both men close in, the heat making thinking too difficult. With a weak “o-ok.” you were shoved into your bosses chest, his sturdy stature felt addicting against your back. Before you know it, your pretty white dress is pooled around your waist and Mr. Huening is taking his time mapping out your thighs with his tongue.
“Mr. H-Huening…” you whine as he bites you, “Why so formal? You can call us by our names.” He hotly chuckles against your panties.
The initial contact of Kai’s tongue against your heated cunt was obstructed by the fabric of your panties, nonetheless you were already keening and subconsciously grinding into his awaiting mouth. “Let’s not play with our food.” Taehyun mutters towards his friend’s direction.
In same second, Kai slips your damp panties off and indulges himself, the feeling of a sharp object drifts up from the juncture of your neck. It’s like your brain splits in half trying to rationalize both feelings, so a jumbled moan and whine spills as both feelings heighten.
“T-taehyun?” You’re finally able to garble out, “What-“
His sharp teeth dig into the juncture of your neck and suddenly you forget how to speak.
“I knew she’d like the surprise, virgins are always such little whores.” Kai breathes out a laugh as he pulls away from your cunt to drag his own sharp teeth down the sensitive skin of your thigh. Your limbs tense around his head at the unfamiliar feeling, but, shockingly, his grip easily spreads them. It looks as though you weigh nothing as he goes back to rolling your clit with his tongue. His teeth seem to have shrunken as well, as you don’t feel the sharpness you were expecting.
The strong fire in your gut is amplified as Taehyun takes it upon himself to pull your neckline down under your breasts. His fingers are merciless as they pluck and twist at your sensitive nipples. Don’t even start on how much you react to how cold his fingertips are.
“T-taehyun….Kai.” Breathing is difficult as the man behind you massages your chest like no other, and the man between your legs thrusts his tongue into your clenching hole.
“Aw, are you gonna cum? How pathetic, beg first.” His tone is unwavering and gravelly as a hand drifts up to your neck, and up to your jaw. It pushes your head back against his shoulder and your left trying to understand how to speak. It doesn’t help that he drags his tongue and fangs down the column of your flushed and sweaty throat.
“P-please, I need it so bad. Nobodies ever made me cum before.” You whine into the thick air, Kai groans and somehow eats you out faster, while Taehyun takes a deep shuddered breath, “Good girl.”
White heat fills you entirely as the pressure in your gut unexpectedly bursts, during the indescribable pleasure, a stinging pain that intensifies your orgasm by a million is felt on your pulse point. Your body goes numb for a second as the pleasure hits another level of mind blowing. Taehyun’s grip on your jaw tightens as he maneuvers your head to look the opposite way, giving him more access to your neck.
Once it finally ends, you try and catch your breath to the best of your ability. “I knew you’d taste delicious. Your turn next, Kai.”
You’re finally able to look around and comprehend what’s happening when Taehyun gets up and switches places with his friend. The sides of his mouth are painted red as he licks at his stained lips. Complaints and questions die on your tongue as he unbuckles his belt, unbuttons his dress pants, and palms himself all infront of you.
It’s a delicious sight when he grips your thighs and presses them against your chest as Kai messily makes out with the untouched side of your neck, you can feel the hickies blooming onto your skin as he marks you.
“Can you do something for me, whore? Or are you too dumb to understand?” Taehyun spits, eyes narrowing at your fucked out expression. “Say please.”
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