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beom-pyu · 1 year

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lust for life ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ kang taehyun

kang taehyun x fem!reader (choi yeonjun x fem!reader) , tags: non idol au , friends to lovers , one-sided crushes , pining , fluff , nsfw , angst , friend!taehyun , bff!yeonjun , roommate!yeonjun , college au , one-sided crushes , angst , pink-haired taehyun because why not, reader is a little ditzy but you mean well!! , pwp

warnings: smut (minors dni) , cursing , fingering , drinking , service top!taehyun (i need to spread this agenda please hear me out) , unprotected sex (reader is on the pill) , sane and consensual! , car sex (i have an obsession) , reader is going thru it

"in these stolen moments, the world is mine. there's nobody here—just us together. keepin' me hot like july forever."

a/n: hiii it's been a while! i've had this in the drafts for a little bit and i finally finished it yayyyy!! also happy 520+ in just a little over a month??? ily guys with all of my heart :,,,) i hope u enjoy!!! (this has only been proofread once so plz excuse any mistakes!)

wc: 8.17k

you’ve never been a fan of pancakes. in fact, you had even won an online debate about how waffles are the better breakfast food back in middle school on some weird forum site. pancakes are just too starchy, too flimsy, and way too bland. you’d rather eat sand than willingly go out of your way to devour a plate of pancakes.

but as yeonjun hand feeds you a bite of the blueberry pancakes he made for your “friendiversary” (the friendship anniversary that you guys celebrate every year), you decide right then and there that you have become a pancake connoisseur—a devotee… a fanatic, if you will.

you hum in delight, clapping your hands in appreciation as you chew the slice of doughy goodness. yeonjun watches your reaction with hopeful eyes—those fox-like eyes, shining as the daylight from the kitchen window hits his irises, a chocolate brown ring hidden in the center. you think you can get lost in them forever: the way they bunch up when he smiles widely, the way his eyelashes frame them beautifully, the way they seem to display any and every emotion he feels. those captivating, enchanting eyes.

“does it taste okay?” yeonjun asks, his soft voice snapping you back into reality. you’re nodding quickly before you even realize it, giving him two thumbs up as you swallow the food.

“i didn’t know you were a pancake expert,” you joke, picking up your own fork to grab a strawberry off of your plate. yeonjun shakes his head with a faint smile, pushing around the food on his plate as he watches you eat.

“i just threw some things together. guess i’m just a natural, huh?” his voice is filled with feign cockiness and you find yourself giggling at the way he leans back in his seat with his arms behind his head like some 90s chick-flick jock.

he looks especially good today—you don’t know if it’s just the warm feelings surrounding your friendiversary, or if it’s the way the sun rays frame his figure, creating a halo effect around his body. he’s perfect in your eyes; his black hair falls beautifully around his face, and his cheeks are naturally flushed pink from the warm air of your shared apartment. his lips are glossy with some syrup residue and you wish for nothing more than to kiss it off of him, tasting the sweetness of his mouth as your hands find their way to his—

“—ift today, so i have to go in. i’m really sorry, y/n.”

you blink, tilting your head a bit as you rip your attention from his lips. “sorry, what did you say?”

yeonjun sighs with a small, apologetic smile, bouncing his fork in his hands. “there was no one who could cover my shift for our friendiversary, so i still have to work today.”

his voice is filled with so much guilt, and despite the deep disappointment you feel in your chest, you don’t want to make him feel any worse. he doesn’t deserve to feel that way. you guys have celebrated your friendiversary every single year for the past decade and a half. from visiting the aquarium in sixth grade, to go-karting in ninth, to climbing onto the rooftop of your apartment complex to stargaze last year; you guys have done it all. there’s nothing wrong with cutting one short, right?

“oh, that’s okay! i… i still have some cramming i need to do, so that’ll definitely keep me busy.” you wave your hand to dismiss him with a small smile before quickly spooning another strawberry into your mouth to cover up the falter of your lips. yeonjun’s shoulders untense with relief, nudging your foot under the table—the action is quick to summon butterflies in your stomach, a small warmth rising to your face from the short contact.

“i promise i’ll make it up to you, okay?” and any hint of dismay in your body dissipates with the lopsided smile he sends your way, too distracted by the fluttery stuttering of your heart and the way those eyes glimmer in the morning sunlight.

“i’m going to die.”

“you’re not going to die.”

“yes, i am. i’m going to die and it’ll be all your fault.”

taehyun deadpans you as you dramatically drape yourself across the library table, whining with your cheek pressed against the cool wood. today was supposed to be your friendiversary, and now here you are, face to face with your friend (and calculus tutor) in your stuffy campus library.

you mentally curse the current recession—yeonjun could’ve had the day off to cuddle and watch movies with you, but now he’s holed up in a dumb, understaffed clothing store.

on top of it all, calculus seems to always have the ability to literally melt your brain through your ears, feeling yourself growing more and more delirious with every number and formula you write down. there’s a reason why you’re an english major.

taehyun simply watches you throw your contained fit, his demeanor blank with the slightest hint of amusement—he’s definitely used to it by now. with one final huff, you lift your head up, grabbing your pencil with vigor as you straighten your back.

“okay, let’s do this.”

a tiny puff of laughter fills the space around you as taehyun’s lips quirk up at your immediate change of pace, his eyebrows raised with entertainment.

“you sure you don’t need another minute?” he teases you with a sly smile and you give him a tiny glare in return.

“not everyone is a mathematical nerd like you, kang,” you retort, but the words are light and airy—it’s easy to banter with taehyun. you’ve known him since your freshman year, meeting him by chance at this exact library during exam season. you approached him first—he had on a t-shirt of a band you like a little too much and with your extroverted nature, you cracked through his shell quickly.

you two would be complete opposites if it weren’t for the fact that you have so much in common with each other. he’s like the less talkative, “critically thinking”’version of you—he balances you out perfectly and you’re incredibly thankful to have a friend like him. he’s always open to listen to your rambling, help you out when you’re struggling in one of your classes, and provide silent company when you don’t want to be alone.

you’re especially grateful that he willingly offered to help you prepare for your upcoming exams, knowing how scatterbrained you get when it comes to studying—and by the time it hits 5 p.m, you’re officially burnt out, unable to intake any more explanations of radians and whatnot.

taehyun notices your attention drifting as you chew on the end of your pen, a tiny and fond smile falling onto his face.

“how about we call it a day?” taehyun asks as he closes his textbook. you immediately brighten up, nodding aggressively—taehyun quietly laughs at your enthusiasm.

“wanna get something to eat? i think i’m actually going to die after all of this now.” you motion to the mess of paper and notes in front of you, hearing taehyun hum in agreement. you pack up quickly as you randomly stuff your papers into their proper (see: random) folders, ready to get some food in your stomach as you tell taehyun about this new show you’ve started watching. he listens intently, nodding along to your breakdown of the plot—you speak way too fast for anything to be even the slightest bit comprehensible, but your eagerness makes up for any lost translations.

the air is warm on your skin when you exit the library, soaking up the heat as you fall into step with taehyun next to you. as brutal as finals season is on you, it does leave one positive in your mind—summer is coming.

you had planned a trip with yeonjun to your hometown for the first few weeks of summer—just the two of you with no distractions of work and assignments. alone. together. you were going to confess during this trip; you had promised yourself that you wouldn’t chicken out this time. you have liked yeonjun for years, ever since middle school, but you’ve been too afraid of losing him to actually tell him the truth about your feelings—but this is it. this will be the summer you tell him everything. you beam at the thought, already feeling giddy at just the idea.

“watcha thinking about?”

taehyun’s inquisitive voice enters your ears and you turn your head to look over at him. he’s already watching you, his big eyes focused on the goofy smile on your face. your neck heats up with embarrassment at the prospect of being caught daydreaming about your best friend, shaking your head.

“nothing, really. i just love when the sun’s out,” you speak, looking up to the clear sky as you silently applaud yourself for that on-the-spot excuse. you can still feel taehyun’s eyes on your face, but you brush it off as your phone rings in your hand.

you look down at the caller i.d., your heart jumping at the giant display of letters that spell out “junnie bug”. his contact photo takes up your entire screen and you’re sure taehyun sees it as well—it’s a selfie yeonjun took when he used one of your hello kitty headbands to wash his face, his lips puckered up in a kissy face with a v by his eyes, winking at the camera. god, he’s so cute.

quick to answer the phone, you press the device to your ear with a small smile on your lips, muttering out a quiet hello.

“hey, where are you right now?”

you scan the area, realizing you’re closing in on one of the campus restaurants, one you and yeonjun frequent weekly.

“i’m about to grab dinner. why?” the line is quiet for a beat as you hear some shuffling and jingling before yeonjun finally responds.

“i got off early! come eat with me. i brought your favorite~” yeonjun sing-songs through the speaker of your phone. you pout a bit, glancing up at taehyun whose hands are shoved in his pocket as he looks off into the distance, giving you privacy to speak.

“i’m actually with taehyun right now…”

yeonjun makes a small, whiny sound, quick to intervene. “but it’s our friendiversary! plus, i have something i’ve been waiting to tell you.”

your heart stops in your chest for a moment as the words reach your ears, feeling the world around you slow down.

yeonjun has something to tell you.

he has something he's been waiting to tell you.

you try not to overthink it, but you can’t stop the conclusion from jumping into your head.

he’s going to confess. he’s going to confess!

you bite back a small squeal as you gain your composure, your eyes flickering over to taehyun once again. he’s a few steps behind you and you already feel bad for what you’re about to do—but yeonjun has something to tell you and your best friend always comes first.

(especially when he’s going to confess to you!)

“okay, i’ll be there soon! love you, junnie.”

“love you too. see you in a bit.”

and then the line goes silent. you try to hide your wide grin as you turn on your heel towards taehyun who stops in his tracks, his head cocking to the side at your excited demeanor.

“hey, can we make a reign check? i’m really sorry,” you pout as you speak, but taehyun doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest, nodding his head.

“yea, that’s okay. seems like you have somewhere important to be.” the small smile he gives you seems a little forced, but you’re too blinded by the excitement pooling in your gut to linger on it. you make a small happy noise, reaching out to pat taehyun’s arm softly.

“i’ll pay for dinner next time—pinky promise.” you hold out your pinky and taehyun’s eyes follow your hand, smiling a bit at the action.

“what, are we twelve?” he teases and you huff, gently jabbing your pinky into his arm.

“pinky promises are the ultimate form of trust and commitment!” you declare with a self-assured nod. taehyun hesitates for a moment as he gives you an unreadable look before his warm pinky hooks onto yours, your thumbs pressing together in a silent seal.

“thank you, kind sir,” you say in a horrible british accent and the corners of taehyun’s eyes crinkle in that darling way they do when he smiles. “i’ll see you tomorrow. bye, bye!”

if taehyun watches your figure retreat until you’ve disappeared around the corner of the communications building, and a short while after you’re already gone—well, that’s for only him to know.

you’re nervous, you realize as you wipe your sweaty palms on your skirt, taking in a deep breath as you stand outside of your apartment. one would think you’d be prepared for this, considering how many sleepless nights you’ve tossed and turned imagining this exact moment. the exact moment when yeonjun tells you, to your face, that he has been in love with you for years—and you would confirm that you feel the same way, and all would be well and dandy and you’d finally be able to breathe.

but your breath gets caught in your lungs the moment you see yeonjun sitting on the couch with a movie paused on the screen, all of your favored dishes from your favorite takeout place laid out in an array on the glass coffee table in the middle of the living room. time moves in slow motion when his head turns towards you as you walk through the front door, those butterflies making their way back to your belly the moment his eyes lock onto yours.

he’s always so gorgeous—even after being on his feet for hours due to his long shift, he still manages to look positively effortless. his plush lips are slightly parted in a wide smile as he beckons you over, his hair bouncing on his forehead at the movement. he’s shining, the sunset casting a wonderful glow over the living room, making his pristine skin look even more angelic than it usually does.

you’re in love. you’re absolutely, absolutely enamored with the man in front of you.

it’s like a scene in a movie as you take a seat on the couch next to him, his arm coming to rest over your shoulders, pulling you into a tight side hug and… oh goodness, he smells so amazing. he’s had the same signature scent for years—a sweet grapefruit with hints of cedar and black currant. intoxicating, alluring. you subtly inhale as you bury your face in his shoulder, letting yourself bask in his warmth. his comfort.

you feel his body rumble with quiet laughter at the way you cling to him, his free hand coming up to pinch your cheek fondly.

“hello to you too,” he speaks and you pop your head up to smile at him.

“i missed you. i think i lost half of my sanity after that study session,” you mumble as you pull your knees up to your chest, pressing yourself closer to yeonjun’s side.

“wasn’t taehyun there to help, though?” yeonjun questions as he massages the back of your neck. you hum in response, your eyes slipping shut as your body relaxes.

“he’s the only reason i didn’t actually go insane,” you groan and yeonjun laughs a bit at your theatrics. “but enough of that. it’s friendiversary time!”

you try to ignore the anticipation bubbling in your chest as the night goes on. yeonjun seems to have pushed the “something” he’s been “waiting” to tell you to the back burner of his mind, laughing and joking around as per usual as some corny 2000s chick flick plays on the t.v. screen. you’re painfully aware though, your eyes glancing over at him during every bout of prolonged silence, trying to egg him on with subtle words—and by the time the movie finally ends, you think he’s forgotten completely.

but then he turns his body towards you, and if you weren’t already hyperfocused on his entire presence, you would’ve missed the way he takes a subtle deep breath, silently preparing himself for whatever he’s about to tell you. naturally, your body faces him as well, your hands in your lap as you dismiss the rapid pounding of your heart in your chest.

it’s finally happening.

yeonjun cracks a small smile to break the growing tension in the room and you swoon at the way his cheeks bunch up in that adorable way they do.

“soooo,” he starts and you can’t help but to smile a bit at his unusually awkward demeanor—choi yeonjun, you’re choi yeonjun, is actually nervous right now. something about it makes you feel a little fluttery; just the sight of his face reddening makes your stomach flip. he’s so cute.

“soooo…?” you echo, nudging his knee with yours. he chuckles a bit, one of his hands coming up to rub the back of his neck.

“remember how i said there’s something i’ve been waiting to tell you?” he speaks slowly as if he’s thinking of every word he says before they exit his mouth. you nod, trying to hide your growing grin. “so, um…”

this is it. this is it. your days of pining are finally over. you’ll be able to kiss, hug, and love yeonjun all you want, as loudly as you want. you’ll finally be his.

“i think i’m going to throw up from the suspense,” you blurt out and your words help to lighten the mood, yeonjun laughing again as his hand drops back down to his lap.

“i guess i’ll just say it then,” he inhales once before his next sentence tumbles off of his lips like an avalanche, destroying your world with every passing millisecond. you’re dunked underwater as your breath hitches in your throat, your hearing muffled as you watch yeonjun’s lips move, but none of it reaches your ears.

you can’t think. you don’t want to think. it’s all too sudden and you feel your hands tremble slightly in your lap as yeonjun’s eyes fill with adoration as he talks about the girl from his fashion department.

“we’re official. me and eunbin… we’re dating.”

he’s so happy as he lulls on about the exact moment everything happened; the way her eyes lit up, the way she jumped into his arms, the way she kissed him on the lips. how she’s so smart and mature. how she’s beautiful and confident and charming in every way. how she’s exactly what he needs at this point in his life.

how she isn’t you.

you have always kind of been aware of the fact that the girl had a crush on yeonjun. she’d always be by his side walking through campus, hanging off his arm like a koala, overly affectionate with skinship. but yeonjun was friendly too, and he’s touchy with all of his friends—it’s his love language. you’ve never thought too much of it seeing as yeonjun always returns home to you. cuddling you at night when you can’t sleep. cooking you breakfast and dinner almost every day. matching outfits with you. staying up late to talk with you.

you were just too stupid—too naive… too blinded by your own infatuation with the man to realize that his eyes weren’t set on you this entire time. you were just his comfort. his roommate. his best friend. and nothing more.

you aren’t sure if you’re still present in your body—it feels as if you’re watching the entire scene from afar, somewhere high up in the clouds. away from yeonjun. away from yourself.

you want to cry, already feeling a lump form in your throat as your waterline burns with tears, but yeonjun’s smile is the widest you’ve seen it be in a while, and those eyes… those same eyes you’ve found yourself getting lost in one too many times… they’re so big and bright tonight as he rambles on about this girl. this girl who is everything you’re not.

it feels as if your heart shrivels up and falls into your stomach right then, fighting to make a smile form on your trembling lips. you want to be joyful for your best friend—you really do—but it just hurts so, so much and you’re about to break at any second.

“i’m so happy for you, junnie,” you mumble out quietly, positive that if you speak any louder, your voice will crack and give it all away. yeonjun directs that endearing smile your way and you feel your heart break even more.

“thank you, y/n. you’re… you’re the first person i’ve told so i was a little nervous. thank you, really.” yeonjun lets out a sigh of relief as he pulls you into a hug. it should’ve been warm and cherished, filling you with nothing but precious feelings—but you can’t help that ice-cold feeling that washes over you as you inhale his citrusy cologne, patting his back with a shaky hand. when he pulls away, he has this little dazed smile on his face—he’s definitely thinking about her—and your gut churns with the ickiest feeling you’ve ever felt.

“you know it’s hard for me to open up to people,” he continues, and you aren’t sure how much longer you can sit here while holding in your tears. “but with her, it’s just like… it’s so natural and easy. she reminds me of you, actually. she always understands me in the way that you do.”

no, she doesn’t.

“i’m glad,” you mutter out and he doesn’t even process your short response, too busy lost in thought as he smiles down at his lap.

you can’t. you can’t.

“‘m gonna go to the bathroom,” you speak, standing before he even acknowledges your words. your tears are already falling down your cheeks as soon as you turn your back to him, your legs moving quicker than the speed of light as you shut the bathroom door behind you, letting it all rush out.

you muffle your quick breathing with the sleeve of your sweater so yeonjun can’t hear—you don’t want to ruin this moment for him. he’s still your best friend, and he deserves all of the happiness in the world. but you’re selfish and your heart hurts a little too much; all of those years of pining and chasing…

this truly sucks.

you don’t know how long you sit in there, but it must’ve been long enough for yeonjun to become worried seeing as a knock soon sounds from the door.

“y/n, you okay?”

you quickly pat your cheeks dry with your palm, nodding your head before remembering he can’t see you from the other side of the wall.

“yeah, ‘m just getting ready for bed!” you call out, cringing slightly at your hoarse voice. hearing an affirmative hum from yeonjun in the hallway, you turn on the sink to wash the tear tracks from your face.

now this is definitely a friendiversary to remember.

taehyun has always had a knack for being incredibly perceptive—you like to call it his “kitty senses”, the way his nose twitches cutely when he spots something in the distance, or the way he perks up when he hears something interesting. he always seems to be aware of the space and those around him, noticing the little things, and paying close attention to detail. maybe that’s the reason why he blinks so little; he’s always keeping an eye out for the minuscule things people usually overlook.

so when your laugh isn’t quite as full as it usually is, and your smile doesn’t fully reach your eyes, and your fingers keep fidgeting with the zipper of your jacket—taehyun knows something is up.

it’s not like you’re not trying to hide it. you had made sure to put on extra concealer that morning to hide your sleepy eyes from your lack of sleep, which is useless because already sure you’ll be crying it off by the end of the day. you try to joke around with taehyun as usual, but you can’t seem to stop your mind from drifting.

it hurts—it hurts so bad, and as much as you wish to just accept reality and move on, some part of you still wants to believe that this is all a dream. some horrible, horrible joke the universe decided to play on you. you just want it to all be over.

taehyun’s over at your place today. yeonjun has work until 6 and you really don’t think you can bring yourself to leave the dark, brooding coven that has become your bedroom, so you came up with a flimsy excuse of the library being too hot to study in today.

“let’s take a break,” taehyun’s voice sounds from your desk, successfully making you look up from where you’re laid stomach down on your bed. in all honesty, you’ve been repeatedly reading the same sentence for the past ten minutes, drawing the conclusion that you’re definitely not going to get anything done today.

you sigh with a small nod, moving to sit crisscross as you shut your laptop, feeling your shoulders slump. taehyun’s watching you—you can feel his eyes follow your movement as you move your laptop to your bedside table, your lips adorning a permanent frown.

you don’t even bother to check your phone as you flop backward onto your bed; it’s not yeonjun’s fault that you feel this way—you know that. he’s not responsible for the way your stomach swoops when he smiles, or the way your skin tingles when his hand lingers on your face for a little too long. it’s your fault for jumping to conclusions, for seeing everything through rose-tinted glasses.

it’s your fault for falling for him so hard.

and here comes that feeling again; that lump in your throat, the churning of your insides, the sting behind your eyes. too caught up in your own thoughts, you don’t process the dip in your bed as taehyun takes a seat next to you.

“are you alright?”

his voice is oh so soft as you turn your head to look at him—those big eyes scan over your body as he tries to read what’s wrong, seeing his kitty senses working a thousand miles a second. you catch the way his fingers twitch as if he wants to touch you, but his body is stiff with uncertainty.

you almost want to cry simply at the way he so obviously cares, his brows knit together, eyes searching yours for an answer you aren’t giving him. he’s lovely, you render, as you scoot over to give him some space to slip in next to you as you curl up to his side. it’s nothing new; you’re used to sharing a bed with taehyun to get in quick power naps during cramming, or to scroll through your phones in silence, just enjoying each other’s company.

but something feels different this time as he wraps his arm around you, his fingers tickling your arm. your head rests on his shoulder while your index finger draws random patterns on his chest, his black t-shirt bunching and scrunching up with the movement. it’s quiet as he strokes your arm, the pads of his fingers making goosebumps rise to your sensitive skin. you don’t realize how bad you need this—the warmth of his body is so nice and you can already feel your walls coming down as you sniffle, a few tears escaping your eyes.

“‘m gonna get your shirt all wet,” you mumble, and taehyun just laughs a bit, resting his head on top of yours.

“i don’t mind,” he replies quietly and you immediately break, the dam collapsing as your tears soak into his shirt, accepting all of the untamed emotions running wild inside of your body. taehyun holds you silently and gently, his thumb brushing over your skin in an attempt at solace.

heartbreak is a weird, weird thing. it feels like you’re yearning for something that you know you’ll never have. craving the touch of someone you’ll never be able to hug and kiss and love in the way you want to. you don’t believe you’ve ever felt anything like this before.

so you let yourself cry, and cry, and cry as taehyun nuzzles his cheek into your hair—a silent reminder that he’s still right here next to you.

he doesn’t ask any questions, and in a way, you’re thankful for that. what would you even say? your bestfriend broke your heart even though you guys were never together in the first place? it sounds ridiculous in any way you can think of wording it, so you bask in the silence as you let everything out.

by the time your tears slow down, your fingers are clenching the front of taehyun’s shirt like a lifeline… and he lets you hold onto him for as long as you need. you don’t know what you have ever done to deserve a friend like him. always ready to catch you when you fall, giving reassurance when you need it, and always prepared to lend a helping hand.

you find yourself lifting your head to find taehyun’s eyes already on you, his hand slipping from your arm to your waist at your movement. his eyes are clouded with apprehension, and you’re sure you look an absolute mess right now with your swollen eyes and tear-stained skin. but there is something left unsaid in the air as your eyes trail down to his pink lips; his hand grips your waist a little tighter, his big eyes flickering quickly between yours.

his eyes are different than yeonjun’s—while yeonjun’s are filled with memories of home and familiarity, taehyun’s are present and swirling with unadulterated want. he wants to be here with you.

everything is muted save for your air conditioning, the quiet hum from the fan of taehyun’s laptop sitting on your desk, and the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears.

you shouldn’t do it. you know this is a bad, bad, bad idea. you’re still not over yeonjun—you’re not ready to move on yet. but that feeling of heartbreak and pure longing wraps around your brain and you just need something, someone to make it all pause. the feeling of taehyun’s hand on your waist is grounding as his thumb brushes over your your clothed skin, his dark brown irises still fixated on you, waiting. and waiting. and waiting.

your lips are on his before you can give anything another thought.

he kisses you as delicately as he holds you, giving you the lead, and allowing you to take whatever you want from him. his lips are incredibly soft—you taste his vanilla and peppermint chapstick on your tongue, getting lost in the slightly tingly sensation. your mind is hazy as your hand trails up from his chest to the side of his neck, feeling his pulse under the pads of your fingers, pressing closer to him to deepen the kiss.

his tongue swipes across your bottom lip in silent permission and you gladly give in, parting your lips for him. a quiet moan slips out as his free hand tugs your thigh over his waist, moving you to straddle him. his body is firm and sturdy underneath you, your hands falling to his shoulders as you steady yourself.

it should end here… it really should—but then taehyun tilts his head and takes your bottom lip in between his teeth and his hands are so heavy and pleasant on your waist and you’re reminded of citrus and home and…

he pulls away slowly, his chest rising and falling quickly as he stares up at your figure.

“y/n…”

his breathy voice quickly makes you come to your senses.

guilt overrides your body as you realize—you just took advantage of your friend’s kindness and company, all because of your own stupid feelings. a grave emotion washes over you as you shake your head, quickly moving off of his body as taehyun sits up.

because only then does it dawn on you that you were pretending taehyun’s lips were yeonjun’s.

“hey, hey, it’s okay—”

“no, i can’t—fuck, i’m so sorry, taehyun,” you spill out as you climb off of him, creating distance between the two of you, unable to meet his hurt eyes. you don’t want to cry again, but the stinging behind your eyes comes back in full force. the shame is too much; taehyun is so kind and you just—you used him for temporary validation. “you should… you should go.”

taehyun is silent and you see him nod in the peripheral of your vision, lingering for a second before he slips off of your bed. he’s quiet and quick as he collects his things, and your eyes only watch his figure once his back is turned toward you. you try to pretend you don’t notice the weighted gaze he gives you before leaving.

it’ll give you one less thing to cry about tonight.

you need another drink.

the slight buzz in your body is not enough to blur out the sight in front of you as you lean against the wall holding a plastic cup tightly in your hand. you’ve never really had a problem with pda—if couples want to show their admiration for each other in public, then so be it. it isn’t any of your business, truly.

but now, your stomach seems to lurch as you watch eunbin kiss up yeonjun’s neck, sitting prettily in his lap on the living room couch as yeonjun smiles that perfect smile at something she whispers in his ear. theoretically, you can simply look away, or walk away, even—but your feet stay planted where they are as your hands shake slightly.

you aren’t sure how long heartbreak is supposed to linger, or how long it should take before you stop thinking about how that could’ve been you… should’ve been you. jealousy is one hell of an emotion, and you try your absolute best to keep it at bay; yeonjun owes you nothing, but the spite eats away at you as you bring your nearly empty drink back up to your lips.

a body shuffles up next to you, but you don’t pay them any mind, your ears ringing with the pulse of the music reverberating through the walls. you’re definitely not drunk enough to enjoy the atmosphere, too hyperfocused on the way yeonjun’s head tips back in a hearty laugh as eunbin swats at his chest playfully.

“you look like you need some air.”

your head whips to the side at the words, coming face-to-face with taehyun, his eyes holding a type of intensity you’ve never seen before. a dejected laugh leaves your lips as you tilt your head back, nodding slightly in response.

“yeah, i probably do.”

taehyun’s hand is slipping into yours before you can even process his grip, tugging you towards the front door of the house. there aren’t too many people in the front yard—just a small group passing a blunt on the porch, someone in an intense argument on the phone, and a few people loitering by their cars.

you follow taehyun to the steps of the porch, taking a seat on the cement. it’s dark out, but the air is still slightly humid, making your skin feel sticky and warm. taehyun’s hand is still in yours as you scoot closer to him to allow some people to walk up the other half of the steps, your thigh pressing against his.

he’s silent as he looks ahead, and you can feel tension filling in the space around you both. it’s been a couple of weeks since you two have spoken—you’ve felt too guilty to face him after that kiss, but now you find yourself looking over at his figure. maybe the alcohol is working better than you thought.

his brows are slightly furrowed, one of his legs bouncing up and down incessantly. the low glow of the porch light illuminates him in a way that makes it impossible to look away, your eyes trailing from his cat-like eyes, to the slope of his nose, to his soft lips.

his soft lips.

you rip your eyes away from them. you aren’t going to make the same mistake twice.

“y/n, did i do something wrong?” taehyun questions quietly, his eyes finally landing on your face. there’s something cloudy and uncertain behind them, something that you can’t quite put a name to.

“no, taehyun, you didn’t—it’s not your fault. i’m just…” you sigh, your gaze focusing on the way his thumb brushes over the back of your hand. “there’s a lot on my mind right now.”

taehyun nods slowly, turning his head away from you again.

“is there anything i can do to help?”

he doesn’t mention the kiss. he doesn’t mention the way you’ve practically been avoiding his existence.

you don’t know if it’s your tipsy state, or if it’s the way his body heat radiates onto you or the way his eyes flicker back up to yours when you’re quiet for a second—but then you catch the way they travel down to your lips and you’re in the backseat of his car in the blink of an eye.

it’s warm, too warm, as you straddle his lap, your hands tangled into his hair as he kisses down your neck, hands on your hips to steady you. you don’t want to think anymore—you don’t want to hang onto something you’ll never have.

so you let taehyun distract you at this moment.

“you can use me however you’d like,” he breathes out heavily as your hands come to rest on his chest. “use me to get over him.”

your body stiffens as the words slip out of his mouth, meeting his eyes in the darkness of the car.

“how… how did you…?” your voice is breathless as you trail off, the corners of his lips quirking up into a sad smile.

“i’ve always noticed the way you look at him, y/n.”

your eyes are unfocused in the low light as you gaze at taehyun’s state, his pupils blown wide in the darkness of the car, only a side of his face lit up golden from the street lights outside. his lips are bright pink and bitten raw, his fading pink hair messy and falling onto his forehead in fluffy waves. he’s always been gorgeous, a fact you could never deny, but in this moment, he looks absolutely unreal.

sudden guilt fills your chest at the thought, shaking your head quickly.

“i can’t do that to you, taehyun,” you replied weakly. he’s shaking his head now, his big hand coming up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing your soft skin delicately.

“i want you to. i hate seeing you like this,” his hand drops down to cover one of yours, feeling his chest rise and fall under your palm. “i’ll do anything you want me to, y/n. you just have to say the words.”

his voice is low and faint, gazing at you with his pretty brown eyes. they flicker in between yours, trying to read the emotions on your face in the limited light. you nibble on your lip as you feel his rapid heartbeat through his shirt, your mind scattered and dizzy.

“please. let me help you.”

a hot flash courses through your body at the pure desperation in his voice—and something in you snaps at that exact moment, your lips crashing onto his vanilla and peppermint ones. the kiss is messy and feverish as your hands run up and down his torso, teeth clashing with the vehemence of it all. you feel his hands drop to your hips, holding you down onto him as his tongue explores your mouth, running across your teeth, swiping across your lips. he tastes like cheap liquor, and you’re sure you do too, but it doesn’t matter at this moment.

you press down on him, your hands running over his toned stomach, up to his pecs, over his shoulders; anything you can reach. you shut your mind off, not letting yourself focus on anything other than taehyun taehyun taehyun taehyun.

he’s moving you, you realize as your back presses against the cool leather of his back seat. he doesn’t break the kiss once as he hovers over you, hiking your skirt up to run his hand up your leg, running his nails over the sensitive skin of your thigh. you allow your legs to fall open so he can comfortably slot himself in between them, feeling his bulge press against your pulsing core just right.

a faint gasp leaves your lips as he grinds against your clothed cunt, already feeling yourself leaking through the thin fabric. one of your legs wraps around him to pull him even closer to you, drowning out all of your senses with the scent of his cologne, his hair tickling your cheek as he kisses down your neck. his hand leaves your thigh to slip under your top before his fingers dance over your stomach, brushing over your bra—admiring every inch of you as you arch up into his touch.

“tell me what you want, baby,” he pants against your neck, nipping the flesh there. you stifle a moan as his fingers brush over the wet spot on your panties. “come on, use your words.”

“i want… fuck—i want your fingers in me.”

he’s quick to obey, pushing your panties to the side to rub his middle finger up and down your dripping slit, a low groan leaving his lips as your hand finds its way to his hair, tugging at the pink strands to hurry him up.

you moan softly as he slips his first finger in, curling it upwards as he pumps in and out of your clenching hole. the car is filled with the sounds of your soaked cunt, his heavy pants, and your moans as he finger fucks you, slipping in another two easily with how wet you are. his fingers are incredibly long and slender, reaching parts of you that you’ve never been able to hit by yourself.

when his lips find yours again, it’s much slower, his fingers matching the restrained pace as he kisses you deeply, devouring all of your little noises. your hips buck up as his thumb rubs circles onto your swollen clit, your fingers tightening in his hair.

he seems to be in no rush as he takes you apart slowly, hitting that spot inside of you perfectly as you leak onto his seat, body shaking with pleasure. there’s a small smile resting on his lips when he pulls back to peer down at you, taking in the way your lips part and your brows furrow as he speeds up, pressing down on your clit just right.

you can’t control the noises leaving your lips as you grind onto his hand, chasing your high as he pumps into you. his actions don’t slow down when he moves up to capture your lips again, curling his fingers inside of you as his thumb rubs your clit. you grab his biceps, needing something to ground you as you feel your impending orgasm rushing upon you.

“taehyun—fuck, ‘m cumming…”

he swallows all of your moans as you tip over the edge, your back arching up into his hold as white fills your vision. you can hear the gentle praise leaving his lips through the ringing of your ears, your body left feeling fuzzy and warm as his fingers slow before gradually pulling out of your sensitive hole.

“so good for me,” he mutters against your lips, his own traveling down your jaw. you feel dizzy as you catch your breath, leaning into his touch.

“i need you,” you mumble as he lifts his head to catch your gaze. he looks completely enamored, his big eyes glossy, reflecting the light from the street lamps outside. “i need you in me. fuck me, taehyun.”

he smiles before sitting back to undo his pants. “anything you want, baby.”

it’s all a blur as he’s back on top of you again, his length hard and throbbing against his stomach as he captures your lips again. his hands roam every piece of your skin he can touch, sucking marks onto your collarbone. claiming you.

you reach down to grab his heavy dick in your hand, stroking him a few times. he sighs lowly in your ear, whispering praise and encouragement that just turns you on even more. it’s hard to be patient when taehyun is bucking up into your hand, your mind clouding up by his hot tongue trailing over your skin. he seems to sense your urgency, placing one last kiss on your lips before lining up with your entrance.

“i’ve got you,” he whispers as if his voice was only made for you to hear. you nod quickly, wrapping your arms around his neck as he presses his forehead against yours. the heat radiating from his body manages to make your clothed, scorching skin even warmer, moaning out softly once you feel him push into you. his eyes flutter shut as you clench around him. “fuck—you feel so good.”

you bite your lip to keep quiet as he slowly thrusts into you, wrapping your other leg around his waist as if it would bring you impossibly closer to him. your fingers tangle gently in his hair, tugging slightly in a way that drives him absolutely crazy.

soft grunts leave his lips once he speeds up, the sound of skin on skin drowning out the muffled music in the distance. your eyes are half-lidded as you strain to keep them open, wanting to watch the way his jaw clenches and his brows furrow. it’s all too much as you take in the fluttery tickles of his lips on your cheek and jaw, the way he stretches you out with his thick cock, the way his hands tightly grip onto your waist as if you could disappear at any moment.

every thrust into your heat makes your stomach flip with pleasure, getting lost in the feeling of his hips snapping against yours perfectly. he kisses you once more before he leans back, hands slipping down your hips to fuck you even harder, the car rocking with his strokes. you can’t control your sounds anymore, getting closer and closer to the edge with every move. you can tell he’s getting close too by the way his rhythm falters — his grip on you is tight, and you know there would be marks to cover up by the morning.

“‘m so close,” you squeak out as he intertwines one of your hands, his other forearm resting by your head to lean down to kiss your lips again.

“me too, baby,” he speaks against your lips, his hips stuttering. “you’re so perfect, y/n, fuck.”

you can already feel your high crashing upon you with one last stroke, your own whimpers falling deaf to your ears as his words tip you over the edge. your body buzzes with electricity as you clench around him, feeling him pump his thick ropes of cum into you at the action, his moans high and breathy in your ear as you cum together.

it takes you a second to come back to your surroundings, blinking your eyes open to see taehyun watching you, silently stroking your hair. he’s still nestled inside of you, but you don’t really mind. he leans down to capture your lips again—it’s passionate and unrushed as he tries to convey every single emotion he’s feeling, his hands coming up to cradle your face.

you can’t think of anything other than the way your heart flutters as he breaks the kiss to rest his forehead against yours, his breathing still uneven as his eyes open to gaze into yours.

“thank you,” you whisper, your stomach swooping as he smiles, that dimple on his right cheek peeking out in the darkness.

“don’t thank me,” and his voice is dripping with so much sincerity, you find yourself unable to look away from his eyes, your hand coming up to rest on top of his. with a small giggle, you glance down at your intertwined bodies.

“i think we should clean up,” you speak light-heartedly as your nose brushes taehyun’s, and he lets out a small puff of laughter, nodding in agreement.

you don’t know what any of this means anymore—how your heart flutters at the way taehyun gently cleans you up before pulling you back in his lap to kiss you silly, how he drives you home, walking you up to your door with your fingers interlaced with his. how you linger for a moment, not wanting to leave his side so soon even though you can barely keep your eyes open long enough to unlock the front door.

but all you know is that yeonjun doesn’t cross your mind again for the rest of the night.

reblogs are very much appreciated!

masterlist

©️BEOM-PYU

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jessejaredstories · 1 year

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Twisted Wish

Matthew was an average, everyday kind of guy from the suburbs. He was the 22 year old only child of happily married parents with middle class standing. He was also in his last year of college with a major in history. The only thing that helped set him apart was the fact that he was gay, but even his sexuality didn't really matter much in a big city full of twinks like him. All things considered, Matthew was a pretty ordinary guy with nothing particularly remarkable about him.

However, just because Matthew lived a normal life doesn't mean he didn't have his own set of problems. For example, he was 22 going on 23 and he was still a virgin who has never even had a real boyfriend. Sure, he had gone on plenty of first dates, but none of them ever went anywhere beyond the first date. It was the lack of romantic and sexual experience that made up Matthew's biggest insecurities. There were nights where he would stay up wondering if he would ever find Mr. Right. But what really made Matthew insecure was his roommate Dave.

Dave was a player. He was a lady's man through and through. In the short year Matthew's known him, Dave had already gone through 3 girlfriends and was currently working on his fourth. But that was just the girls he's dated, Dave's had plenty of side chicks too. Everytime a new one popped up, Matthew already knew he was gonna get sexiled and made himself scarce without Dave asking him to. Despite how often it happened, Matthew honestly didn't mind Dave's horny habits. Though he would be lying if he said he wasn't jealous of Dave. If some frat bro like Dave could get laid anytime he wanted, why couldn't he?

One Saturday night, while Matthew was by himself in the apartment, he spent the evening on his phone. He was endlessly scrolling through several social media sites while streaming some random movie for background noise. Matthew spent several hours online before finally getting tired of his phone. He began closing all the tabs, but during his clicking frenzy, he accidentally hit a pop-up ad. The pop-up took him to another website called "Reality Wizard." The ugly, gaudy colors of the website caught Matthew's interest just before he could exit out. Matthew took a moment to read the website’s welcome message. It read:

“Make a wish and the Reality Wizard will make it come true.”

From what Matthew could gather, the “Reality Wizard” seemed to be some online genie game. It seemed pretty straightforward albeit cheaply made. The little genie avatar had its arms open as if it was beckoning Matthew to make a wish. Something about its digital eyes made Matthew uncomfortable. He felt as if it was somehow looking directly at him despite it just being a static image on his phone. It was surreal to say the least.

But instead of simply exiting out of the website, Matthew decided to play along with it. He didn’t have anything better to do after all, so why not play along and make a wish to a fake genie? Matthew laid back on his bed as he thought about what to wish for. Then after a minute of thinking, he typed in his wish.

“I wish I could get laid just as much as my straight roommate does.”

Matthew chuckled as he finished typing up his wish. While there was some actual sentiment behind it (he was a desperate virgin after all), Matthew found more humor in making the genie respond to something dirty and see what happens. He hit submit and waited. The screen reloaded after a second, but all that changed was the genie’s eyes were now closed. Matthew waited a while longer but nothing else happened.

Once he was bored again, Matthew finally closed out of “Reality Wizard.” The night was still young when Matthew found himself alone with nothing else to do. That was when he decided to do what any other guy would do: jerk off!

Matthew pulled down his sweats and let his soft dick flop out while he pulled up an incognito tab on his phone. He then went straight to PHub to find a good video to rub one out to. But unfortunately for Matthew, there was nothing worth clicking on on the home page. He then spent the next 10 or so minutes searching for a good video. By the time he found one, he had ended up in the MMF video category. Matthew didn’t mind a woman in his videos, he could just focus on the men after all. He hit play, skipped to the good part, and started jerking off.

Between Matthew and the trio in the video, moans and groans quickly began to fill the empty apartment as Matthew pumped away at his cock. Despite being a total bottom, Matthew still had an above average length clocking in at about 6 inches. Even though his dick never saw any fucking action, it still made jerking off fun as he used both hands to stroke himself.

“Aww fuck yeah…” The trio had switched into a sandwich position with one of the men getting fucked while fucking the woman at the same time. Matthew was loving the man on man action. “Fuck that man ass! Make him your bitch!!”

While Matthew was jerking off, the wish he had just made to the “Reality Wizard” began to come true! But not in the way Matthew expected…

The genie’s magic began to take effect. Matthew was always a skinny twink, but the wish he made caused his body to change. His body was quickly gaining weight until Matthew had some heft to his figure. His arms and thighs filled in with the extra mass, as did his chest until he had big enough pecs to grab and squeeze. The same happened to his ass! Although he already had a nice, perky ass before the changes, Matthew now possessed the bubble butt of a gym rat. Even his cock and balls grew until he had an obscenely long and girthy member. His new dick was now 7.5 inches and hung low like a bull with how heavy his cum filled balls had become.

After the extra mass came the body hair. Matthew’s once perfectly smooth body began sprouting hair everywhere! His hair grew out until he had shoulder length curls like Tarzan. His face tingled as a full beard and mustache quickly grew in. His chest and midsection got covered with a fine layer of brown hair. Even his pit and pubic hair grew and grew until he had an unruly forest of hair in each area. By the time the transformation was finally over, Matthew had become an unrecognizable version of himself as he was now a testosterone-filled, hairy beast of a young man.

But even though Matthew just went through a magical transformation, his mind was still focused entirely on jerking off to the video. The two men and one woman were still going hard at it in a line. The camera angles kept alternating between focusing on the two men and focusing on the woman getting fucked. Matt’s favorite was seeing the man’s cheeks getting clapped from behind.

“Oh fuuuck I’m close..”

Matt threw his head back against his pillow. He could feel the pressure building up in his throbbing cock as he was getting ready to shoot his load out. He picked up his stroking speed. He was getting sweaty and red in the face as he was getting closer and closer to finishing.

Matt lifted his head again when he heard the woman begging for more. He kept his eyes focused on the video. The video had a wide shot which showed all three of them. Matt started with the two men, but as he kept stroking, he found his eyes unconsciously gravitating towards the woman. Matt wasn’t sure why he did that. He shifted his attention back to men, but found himself focusing back on the woman again within seconds. Suddenly, the woman was all Matt could focus on. Even if he tried to look away he just couldn’t! Even if he tried to imagine a hot man with a hung cock all Matt could picture was a woman with massive tits! Matt was panting at the sight of the woman’s tiddies bouncing up and down as she took a pounding. Her beautiful body was wet with sex sweat. Seeing her throw her head back as she let out a loud moan made Matthew tremble and twitch with anticipation. He couldn’t take it anymore, he had to burst!

Matt let out a guttural groan as ropes of warm cum shot out of his engorged cock. His hairy chest became drenched with his spunk. Even by the time he finished shooting load after load, his dick was still twitched and throbbing with how much cum he shot out. Matt sighed with relief as he threw his arms back to cool down after such an intense jerk off session. His body hair was dripping with how drenched it was with sweat and cum. On top of that, the room now reeked of a man’s sweaty musk, but Matt didn’t care. He was satisfied and content.

Once Matt finally caught his breath, it was time for him to clean up the sticky mess he just made. His initial instinct was to gather up all his cum with his fingers and then swallow it all, but Matt stopped when he realized how fucking gay that was. He had absolutely no interest in ever tasting cum. After all, why would a straight guy like Matt want to swallow cum?

Matt went to the bathroom and cleaned the jizz off his body. He then went ahead and changed his bed sheets too due to dripping all over them. Once that was done, Matt stood in his bedroom. He then lifted his arm up, letting the wild bush of pit hair hang free as he took a deep sniff of himself. Matt could smell some musk, but decided it wasn’t anything some cologne couldn’t cover up.

“Yo! Anyone home?”

Matt’s ears perked up when he heard his roommate Dave call out. He then walked out and greeted his best bud by dabbing him up. Matt and Dave were brothers from different mothers and were known for their unbeatable bromance.

“Dave, my man! What are you doing home so early!? It’s barely midnight!”

“I know, bro, but check it, Darcy just invited me to go check out this new club downtown with her. It’s hella exclusive, you gotta come with us, Matt! I need my shotgun brother there if I’m gonna club all night!! Plus, Darcy’s got a friend. Brianna, I think you’ll like her…”

“She cute?” Matt asked with an eyebrow raised. Dave nodded. “Cup size?”

“Double D’s, AND she never wears a bra when she goes out! Trust me bro, you gotta meet her, I know for a fact y’all are perfect together!!”

Matt was convinced the moment he heard “D.” He was always a boobs over ass kinda guy after all. Matt quickly got dressed, then went out to have the best night of his life at the club with his bro Dave, ending with them tag teaming Darcy and Brianna in bed. All while Matt was completely oblivious to the fact that the Reality Wizard had granted his wish. Matt definitely got laid just like his straight roommate Dave, just like he wished, although he probably didn’t expect the online genie to twist his carelessly worded wish. Not that Matt really cared about his former self, after all, he had a girlfriend with two very big reasons why he should enjoy the new reality he wished for himself.

#male transformation

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thegettingbyp2 · 7 months

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Extra Credit

A/N: This was from the request I got with three different ideas so this is the request where Austin is the readers teacher

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You rolled your eyes as the two girls sitting in front of you in the lecture hall giggled whilst your Professor was talking. Ever since Professor Butler took over your Theatre Studies lectures, every single lecture was filled with girls trying to get his attention and it annoyed you. It didn’t annoy you because he wasn’t attractive, he was stupidly attractive with his blonde hair, chiselled jawline and bright blue eyes. It annoyed you because he was your boyfriend and you didn’t appreciate all of your classmates fawning over him.

When Austin began working as your Professor, you were instantly struck by how attractive he was but you didn’t want to group yourself in with the girls who began acting like fools around him. That seemed to grab his attention when he noticed that you were the only girl in the class who didn’t look phased by him, leading to him calling you out in class, eventually, asking you to stay behind after class to talk to him about your essays. It was after one of your lectures that he kissed you for the first time and your relationship bloomed. Since then, the two of you took every opportunity to spend time together and you were hoping that he’d see your request you’d sent through on the College’s online platform before the end of class.

You were impatiently tapping your pen against your desk, zoning out slightly when Austin’s voice brought you back into the moment. ‘Miss (Y/L/N), do you mind staying behind for a couple of minutes? To discuss the extra credit request you submitted earlier?’ you looked up to see Austin watching you from the front of the class, a smirk so small playing on his lips as he looked at you that you could only tell it was there because of how well you knew him. You nodded in response and murmured a quiet ‘thank you’ before looking back at the notes you’d made this lecture, knowing that Austin would let you borrow his lecture cards if you needed them.

As everyone packed away their things at the end of the lecture, you went at a much slower pace before slowly making your way down the stairs and walking over to Austins desk, setting your bag down next to it and waiting while Austin saw everyone else out. Once the last student had left the classroom, Austin closed the door and the click of the lock was all you needed to hear.

Austin cleared the space between you in a few strides and took your face in his hands, crashing your lips together. Your hands came out to twist in his jacket, pulling his body even closer to yours as he tilted your heads to deepen the kiss. His hands moved from your face, down to your waist as he hummed happily against your lips.

‘Hi,’ he murmured quietly, a smile growing on his lips as he broke the kiss, still keeping his face close to yours.

‘Hi,’ you replied, smiling back at him as you draped your arms around his neck, leaning in to peck his lips once more. ‘Great lecture today, you had all the girls giggling and vying for your attention,’ you teased, and even you could hear the tinge of bitterness in your voice.

‘Yeah? From the sound of it someone’s jealous,’ he said, pulling back and grinning at you.

‘I’m not jealous,’ you protested, refusing to meet his eyes and playing with the lapels of his jacket, ‘I just don’t like them thinking that they have a chance with you. It’d be so much easier if we could tell everyone. Just think about how great it would be to be able to walk around Campus, holding hands, taking about anything and not having to come up with different reasons to stay behind after class. I mean, the amount of extra credit requests I’ve put through, I probably should have graduated last year or something.’

Austin laughed softly, his eyes sad as he looked at you. ‘Baby, you know we can’t do that. I want that too, you think I don’t want to be able to take you out on a date without having to drive at least an hour away from Campus. I want to be able to walk down the street holding your hand and to be able to kiss you without having to make sure that the doors are locked and there’s no one around. But we both know that, until you graduate, we can’t do that.’

‘I know,’ you sighed, feeling your body slump slightly. Austin stepped closer to you, letting you rest your body against his. You stayed like that for a while, content to just sit in Austin’s arms, breathing him in for however long you could before you’d inevitably have to go back to pretending that you weren’t in love with him whenever you saw him in the hallway.

‘Do you still want to go on a date tonight?’ he asked softly, smoothing his hand along your hair gently.

‘Of course, what’s the plan?’ you asked, feeling yourself perk up slightly at the thought of having him to yourself for the whole evening.

‘How about, instead of driving for God knows how long, you come to mine and we’ll order take-out and have a movie night and I’ll be able to hold you all night. How does that sound?’

‘Amazing.’

#austin butler #austin butler imagine #austin butler x reader

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1d1195 · 9 months

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Dolcezza IV

Read Dolcezza here

A little fluffy, a little angsty; hope you like it! :)

~8.6k words

“Who’s Harry? He’s cute,” she smiled excitedly.

Shaking her head, she sighed. “Harry’s a friend.”

“A cute friend,” she whispered peeking over at him still chatting with her father and sister.

Her face warmed and she shook her head. “Stop.”

“Don’t know many boys who would drive them home to their crazy family and spend the day baking and running errands.”

She nodded. “I know.”

“Yes Mom, I know. I understand,” she listened to her mother at the other end of her phone. She piled her stuff in the back of her car and rubbed her forehead. Slamming the door shut, she continued listening to her mom ramble on and on. “I’ll be there in an hour and a half,” she assured her rolling her neck from side to side. A day off was rarely a day off for her. The peacefulness of her personal day was over. It was onto the chaotic portion which would no doubt leave her feeling unrested and anxious.

Thinking about her book, she heard her mom’s continued chatter. Her complaints of how no one helped her around the house and “did I tell you about who I ran into at the grocery store?”

“Mom! I have to go!” She longed for the book she was reading only an hour prior. Thought about the deep breathing from the online yoga class she followed from YouTube only two hours prior. Ending the call, she sighed heavily again, squared her shoulders, and fell into the driver’s seat.

With a frown, she looked at the empty restaurant, lights off, closed sign hanging in the window. She didn’t even get to see Harry before she left, and she really wanted to. Since Harry took care of her, she ached to see Harry more frequently but was trying to keep her distance so as not to overwhelm him. The last place she would ever want to see her stalker was at work (not to mention it would be worse since she mostly worked from home). For anyone, it was uncomfortable when someone was flirty and there was no escape (because it was their job to be there).

She should have just texted him. That’s what Harry gave her his number for right? To be friends?

To flirt, hopefully. She thought to herself.

But since he had given her number, she hadn’t been the first one to text. Call her ridiculous or playing hard to get. Part of her couldn’t believe someone as handsome and wonderful as Harry wanted to chat with her. She never wanted to bother him, and she imagined that if she started talking, she would never want to stop. Harry would need space and...

Well, it spiraled pretty quickly.

So, all their conversations over text had been through Harry sending the first message.

Since she helped that busy night a few months back, she made her way to the kitchen at least once a week. Antonio enjoyed her help and found her adorable and helpful in a way that he couldn’t find in many employees. “Don’t get me wrong tesorino, I love my employees. They’re family. But they’re also in high school and college and they don’t care nearly as much as I do about this place.” She overheard him tell Niall, “It’s nice to depend on her as a tenant, someone I can trust Leo with, and someone that cares for the restaurant like she’s worked here her whole life.”

It made her feel warm, and she loved helping. It had been nearly routine; working from home, going to the gym, running errands, eating eggplant and spaghetti, and smiling at Harry through the kitchen window. It was so nice to relax and be around people who liked her company. People who didn’t make her feel crazy like her family.

It was nice to relax and not worry about being followed for the first time in a really long time.

I could send a simple, “good morning, have a good day” text. She thought. It was harmless. She could do that.

Right?

Sighing, she decided against it. Maybe he was sleeping in. She tried to remember what day he had off that week but was coming up short. Maybe she would come say hello at the end of her long day if she wasn’t too exhausted. But it was unlikely that would be the case at the end of what would be a long, long day. There was always tomorrow.

Plus, if Harry ended up texting her back, she would probably crash her car to answer him. Shoving the key in the ignition, she was trying to be positive, but it was hard to do so when she was not going to see Harry and she was not looking forward to the rest of her day off.

The feeling was only amplified as her engine did not turn over. She groaned. “No, no, no…” she whined. She knew very little about cars. Every year she asked her parents to renew her AAA membership for her birthday. She was ever practical, and it was a huge joke among her extended family. It was something she hated paying for herself but wouldn’t be caught dead without.

Right when the car didn’t start, she should have just called AAA. But instead—maybe because she was already frustrated and anxious about dealing with her family—she got out of her car to look at the mechanical engineering, as if she even knew what she was doing. With her phone’s flashlight, she peered under the hood, like she would suddenly know what she was looking for. She readjusted the strap of her purse to keep it from falling into the greasy, mechanical things and getting disgusting. Always one to take the time to learn a new skill, her dad showed her how to change a battery, check her oil, and replace various things in her car once she got her license. She was praying the battery was somehow disconnected. Because even if she had called AAA right then and there, it would ruin her whole schedule. Her whole day. She would let her family down and that would...well that would be really bad for her psyche.

But at the heart of it, it really made no sense for her to look under the hood. The thought of seeing her family tended to wreak havoc on her mind and make her do things like this.

A gust of wind made it’s way down the road. It blew her hair in her face and as she tried to blow it back out of her mouth, she heard the thunk of her car door closing. She bounced at the sound because it scared her. Making her hit her head on the open hood. “FUCK!” She hissed, rubbing the sore spot. She hurried to look at the door that had betrayed her. “No, no, no,” she whined reaching for the handle, but her gut already told her it was too late.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me!” she groaned rubbing her eyes with the heels of her palms. After thirty seconds of silence and utter disbelief, she began smacking the window with the open palms of her hands repeatedly. She made grunting and grumpy noises and kicked the tire for good measure. “You stupid piece—!” She hissed and continued to beat up the inanimate object.

Harry saw her from his own car when he pulled into the parking space nearby. Niall looked up from the passenger seat while Harry checked to make sure he was safely and adequately in the spot.

“Oof, that doesn’t look too good,” Niall murmured, just as she began attacking her car.

Harry hurried to throw the car in park and get out of his vehicle.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Harry rushed seemingly from nowhere. He quickly raced to her, pulling her by the hips swiftly so there was small distance from her vehicle to keep her from hitting it and preventing her from self-injury. “Principessa,” his voice was so soothing. Even though she was livid and frustrated, she couldn’t help but feel like he was speaking directly into her soul, his voice warm and perfect.

The few times she ended up in Dolcezza’s kitchen, Harry was somehow kinder to her than when they were interacting elsewhere. His voice was gentle as he walked past her with a hot tray. “Behind y’principessa,” or “watch y’hands, kitten, this one’s hot.” Something of that nature. Even when it was busy as could be, he would gently place a hand on her lower back and walk by her making her stomach flutter.

Harry touching her and physically pulling her away from her vehicle, on top of that soothing warm voice, almost made her feel remorse for attacking her car. “The car is gonna win, every time, kitten.” His hands now gripped the top of her arms holding her in place even though she strained ever so slightly against his hold to return to her frustrated movements. Niall was close behind. He tried all her doors to see if they were unlocked. But no dice.

Her face crumpled and Harry thought he would cry if she did. “This is the worst day off in the history of days off,” she moaned.

Harry released the top of her arms, skimmed down the length of them and rotated her hands for injury. All the while she explained the awfulness of the last ten minutes, all the things she had to do and why she was upset that this was the time her car had chosen to break down. Niall frowned at her story, no doubt feeling bad for her, but Harry could see the delight in his eyes. “Well, tesorino, don’t count today out just yet. Harry also has the day off. I’m sure he would be happy to drive you to your mum’s,” he clapped Harry on the back of his shoulder. “I’ll keep an eye on your car. Make sure they get your keys safely in my hands and your car to the dealership.”

Harry smirked awkwardly and coughed as Niall volunteered him. Of course, he would do it, but he knew that she would be upset.

It was evident by the way her skin pinked with the suggestion. The thought of Harry doing something kind for her without any return on his time investment? “No way,” she snorted almost bitterly. “This is an all-day expedition,” she shook her head. “I can’t ask you to give up your day off for me.”

This was great for Harry on fifty different levels, minimum. He would get to see her in her element, talk to her about a ton of stuff, meet her family, and see her hometown. There wasn’t a better day off to be had. Except she looked infuriated, and Harry wasn’t sure he was exempt from her frustration. She texted rapidly on her phone. “Could y’go another day, kitten?” Harry asked softly. She shook her head. Tears were definitely filling her eyes at the mere thought. “Okay, so let’s go,” Harry shrugged and walked toward his car. She frowned.

“You really... don’t mind?”

“Not at all.”

“Harry,” she whispered so quietly, and he turned around as he held the passenger door open. Her heart nearly stopped. She forgot why she was so mad. She wasn’t sure anyone had held a door open for her like that. Ever. “It’s... a lot,” she told him.

He smiled looking back over his shoulder. “Then we better get moving.”

She stayed put and felt so utterly awful, but Harry was waiting. It felt wrong to keep him waiting. Especially when she could only imagine what the day would bring without him really knowing.

“Did you desperately need anything in your car?” Niall asked, trying the handle once more.

“Yeah, like all that baking stuff,” she rubbed her forehead not having any kind of backup plan for that scenario. Harry frowned and closed the door to the car and started for the restaurant. At least Harry could come up with a backup plan for her.

“Why are you bringing baking stuff?” Niall peered into the backseat to see a bag of groceries and three cupcake pans, ignoring Harry’s path to Dolcezza’s front door.

“Uhh…” she swallowed hard. Obviously, whatever the reason was not something she felt like sharing. At least not right then. Harry frowned.

“It doesn’t matter, Principessa, don’t worry. Ni, can y’help grab some stuff,” he said opening the door to the restaurant. In a matter of minutes, she had replaced the groceries and metal pans that she had brought from her apartment.

“Niall, can you give them to Antonio when you get the car open?” She asked her eyebrows pinched together in worry.

He nodded. “Course, tesorino,” he smiled. “Don’t worry about a thing.”

“I would wait and ask Antonio for his key, get my spare car key, everything...but—”

“Principessa,” Harry said pressing a hand on her lower back making her feel like she might pass out. It took every ounce of restraint to not let the shiver threatening to roll through her body viciously for him and Niall to see her completely lose her mind over Harry’s touch. “S’okay. He’ll understand. Let’s go,” he smiled opening his car door again for her to sit in the passenger seat.

“Thank you,” she said gratefully. Harry rolled down the window as he started his car.

“It’s what friends are for, tesorino,” Niall winked at her. She was only a half hour behind schedule. An easy comeback.

She nodded. Other than Eleanor and Louis, she wasn’t sure she knew what that was like. “Well, still,” she said softly. “I’ll make it up to you,” she promised.

Niall smiled gently at her and caught Harry’s gaze very briefly before he pulled away from the curb.

Once on the highway, she made a call to her sister, and explained the problem. At the same time, Harry called Niall and gave specific instructions not to let her keys out of his sight. Overcome, once more by the worry of someone stealing her keys and finding her apartment upstairs. Throwing that thought out of his mind, he told Niall that he had to pass the car one off to the tow truck driver and hold her other ones until they got back. He also left him in charge of making sure her car was properly taken care of, and he was to text Harry if there was an issue. She spent the first hour of the drive near silence. Instead, texting and scrolling on her phone. It didn’t upset Harry, but it did worry him. “Do y’need anything kitten? Wanna stop for coffee or...?”

She shook her head. “Maybe later,” she answered.

He nodded. “Alright.”

It very much seemed like she didn’t want to talk. But right as the GPS alerted her that they would arrive in half an hour she started to squirm ever so slightly.

“Y’okay, Principessa?”

She sighed and put her head in her hands. “My family is a lot,” she told him. “Like just chaotic and a little crazy; it’s embarrassing.”

He frowned. “Okay, I’m... I’m sorry that y’feel embarrassed. But... every family has something, y’know?” His voice was gentle and quiet. Encouraging. “M’not going t’like... say anything.”

She nodded. “Thank you,” she looked at her lap, inspecting her fingertips.

“Plus, if... if you came from them... they’re already the most wonderful people I’ll ever meet,” he shrugged as if that wasn’t the sweetest, kindest thing she’d ever heard. He didn’t get a good look because he didn’t want to take his eyes off the road, but he hoped her cheeks were that pretty pink color.

“They’re good people...but...” she sighed.

“Kitten,” he reached over and put his hand on her squirming fingers. He gave them a reassuring squeeze. “S’okay. I promise,” he whispered.

She took a deep breath and looked out the window. Harry glanced at her briefly. It was the safest he had ever driven in his life—and he was already a safe driver. But even though he was desperate to hold her hand the way he was right now; he couldn’t help but feel bad about removing his hand from the two-position. She was the most precious thing he had ever had in his car and wanted to keep her safe no matter what—even if he really wanted to keep holding her hand and assure her it would be alright.

She looked at Harry in her peripheral. “My sister is going to fall in love with you.”

He smirked. “M’a bit older than her, yeah?”

“She’s eighteen,” she sighed. “But we think she was born as a thirteen-year-old.”

“S’a bit young for me,” he winked. She squeezed his hand as she smiled softly. Harry wondered if she knew she did that but didn’t want to bring it to her attention.

“Also,” she took another deep breath. “They don’t... I’ve never told them about the person following me,” she mumbled. Harry very nearly stopped the car.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Oh?”

“They would...” she shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Isn’t y’brother a dispatcher? Does he want t’be a police officer?”

“Yeah...but...” she shrugged. “I don’t know. Please don’t mention it, not that I think you would but—”

“Kitten,” he frowned. “S’a pretty big thing t’hide from your family.”

“Well,” she was skimming her thumb along the back of Harry’s hand, and he had never enjoyed hand holding so much in his whole life. “It would just worry them,” her voice was quiet. Like she wanted to tell them. Maybe she wanted them to worry about her. “I don’t... they don’t need to worry about me,” she mumbled. “It’s not a big deal, really. You know?”

It was. Every time Harry saw her, there was the smallest part of his brain thinking about how someone was so obsessed with her that he watched her every movement for over a year. So much so that she had to move. It wasn’t a way to live, and she didn’t see it as a problem. Didn’t see it as something that people who cared about her should worry about. Harry wanted to cry about how sweet she was. She deserved... everything.

“I won’t say anything, Principessa,” he squeezed her hand. She smiled.

“This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me... someone that isn’t Eleanor or Louis,” she explained.

“Eleanor...” he followed the GPS’s directions to get off the highway. It wasn’t quite a city, but not a small town either. There were lots of stores and restaurants right off the exit and Harry stopped at the red light. “El mentioned y’had an ex-boyfriend—”

“Course she did,” she rolled her eyes.

Harry ignored her comment. “—he must’ve... helped.”

She shrugged. “Yeah... but...” she looked at how her hands were holding Harry’s. It was so warm and somehow more intimate than every kiss she had with her ex. It felt like holding Harry’s hand was holding a piece of his heart and she didn’t necessarily think it was as simple as that... but she really liked it. “He... he complained a lot,” she mumbled. “I told you my family is a lot, and they are. But... they’re good people and I love them so it’s...” she sighed. “It’s complicated. I shouldn’t have dated him for as long as I did. Eleanor was probably right to not like him. By the end of it... it was like we lived two separate lives. I just did what I wanted and he...” she shrugged nonchalantly.

“You deserved more,” he finished.

“Well...I don’t know about—”

“No, Principessa,” he interrupted, cutting her off. “S’not a negotiation. You deserved more,” he promised squeezing her hand. They turned off the main road. Harry let her contemplate his statement in silence and continued following the GPS.

Her neighborhood was quaint and looked like a great place to grow up. It was the type of neighborhood little ones probably loved to Trick or Treat in. The kind where you could go to a neighbor’s house and ask for a cup of sugar and chat for so long you forgot to finish baking. Harry wondered if people sang Christmas carols or had block parties. But her grip had stiffened around Harry’s hand, and he could see her physically steeling herself. Her shoulders stiffened, everything about her seemed to be almost defensive. “If it’s too much for you,” she said getting out of the car and grabbing the baking items out of the back seat, “you can leave... there’s a cute mall with shops and restaurants back toward the highway if you need time to get away. I wouldn’t... I won’t blame you,” she turned her attention to the house she grew up in and looked at the Christmas lights still hanging from the gutter, draped on the shrubs.

It was February, now. Her heart felt heavy.

Harry had gotten screamed at during culinary school four and a half out of five days of the week. She was the kindest sweetest soul on the planet. There was no way her family could be so bad that he would feel the need to leave. “Thank you, kitten. M’going t’be fine,” he winked at her taking the bag of supplies and the pans from her, so she had free hands to open the front door. With a deep breath, she turned the knob and stepped inside.

It was loud. That was the first thing Harry noticed. There was yelling from one room to the other. In her defense, it wasn’t angry. It was as if they didn’t want to leave their rooms. The smoke detector was going off and a clang of pans coming from the kitchen. “She’s here!” A voice shouted from somewhere upstairs. Harry glanced around quickly catching pictures of when she was younger. He hoped he had a chance to look at them again later.

Harry watched her as she took in the scene. The living room and dining room were a bit cluttered. But it wasn’t as bad as she thought it was going to be. She hoped after she told them a friend was driving because of her car situation that they would clean up a bit. Maybe they did, or maybe her sister finally found better lighting in her room to do her makeup and skincare routine each morning instead of the living room. She pulled the items from Harry’s hands so he could take his coat off. He did so silently, and quickly took the items back from her so she could do the same.

Obviously, the smoke detector and kitchen were her first stop. “Mom,” she said evenly as she walked into the kitchen. Harry followed behind. It was a little more cluttered. Especially considering they knew she was coming over to bake cupcakes.

“Hey sweetie!” The woman turned. Harry could see his future. The sweet girl would grow up to be a pretty mom just like the woman in front of him. “Oh hello; I thought Eleanor was driving you.”

Harry saw her entire body flinch then, somehow, stiffen more. “Eleanor moved, Mom. I told you that.” The smoke detector was still going off and it somehow wasn’t fazing any of them and Harry found that rather funny and cute. But he was surprised that her mom didn’t remember her best friend had moved.

“Silly me, must have forgot,” she laughed and shrugged. She turned and took Harry’s items once more and set them on the little space left on the kitchen island.

“This is Harry,” she gestured to him.

Harry held his hand out. “Nice to meet you. You have a lovely home.”

She grinned and Harry could see every facial feature of the sweet girl had come directly from her mother. It was almost uncanny. “Thank you, Harry. Thanks for driving her,” she smiled. “Emma, honey! what are we doing with the smoke detector?”

“Nothing? Why?” The female voice responded.

Harry watched the girl’s face drop with exhaustion. The poor thing. They hadn’t been there longer than two minutes. Her mom rolled her eyes. “Can you turn it off?”

“I don’t know how!”

“I got it!” A male voice answered.

There was a clatter and a thud, but the alarm stopped. She felt the ringing of it still in her ears. “Honey, your daughter is here,” her mom sang.

After a moment, her father stepped into the kitchen joining them. “Hey sweetie,” he smiled. He nodded at Harry and gave his daughter a hug. She returned the hug, the light in her eyes seemed dead making her look stoic and tired. “No Eleanor?”

She nodded. “No Eleanor,” she sighed.

“Eleanor moved,” her mom answered pulling a casserole dish out of the oven. It smelled delicious.

“Really?” her dad said in surprise.

“M’Harry,” he said holding his hand out again for him to shake next. She was watching her mother with her casserole dish, she quickly moved things off the counter, so she had room to set it down. It wasn’t the most unusual thing, but it was very obvious that she was used to anticipating her family’s every movement. Maybe that’s why it was so nice to work with her in the kitchen at Dolcezza.

“What brings you here?” He asked.

“Emma’s bake sale,” she answered and began throwing used cooking utensils in the sink. She peeked into the dishwasher and noticed it was full. “Is this clean or dirty?” She asked.

“It’s clean. I asked Emma to empty it.”

“When?” she muttered under her breath looking at the stack of plates and dishes in the sink piling high enough that she thought she would have to run two loads while she was here. Harry was taking it all in, looking at the pictures on the fridge. “What’s she doing?”

“Who knows,” her mom smirked with an eyeroll. “Our princess is something else,” she explained to Harry with a smile.

Harry returned the smile but didn’t think Emma could be a princess. Not if she didn’t unload the dishwasher when she was asked. Nor if she knew how to handle a smoke detector. Harry got the sense that she was perhaps a bit spoiled—not through any fault of her own but ten years younger than her oldest sibling, she had to be waited on throughout her childhood.

Not to mention the only Prinicipessa in Harry’s life was the sweet girl he had spent an hour and a half with in the car. “Emma!” Her dad called.

“Coming!” She shouted and Harry heard a flutter of footfalls on the stairs coming from around the corner.

Her jaw dropped when she entered the kitchen. “You’re not Eleanor,” she said in surprise. Harry smirked. The poor girl looked ready to cry right there. Not one of them remembered. He wished he had her brother’s phone number just so he could warn him in advance. If he said Eleanor later Harry would lose it. He found it so unbearably sad, he thought she was going to cry. She flexed her jaw.

“Eleanor moved,” her dad explained.

“Huh,” she shrugged.

“M’Harry,” he said for the third time and held his hand out.

It seemed the genes she got from her mom were extremely strong. The three of them could have been mistaken for triplets. Her sister stared at him in surprise and nodded. “Emma,” she mumbled in surprise.

“Emma, can you empty the dishwasher since we have to make cupcakes and need space?” She asked.

Her sister rolled her eyes and Harry turned his attention again to the pictures on the fridge. Harry had his fair share of arguments with Gemma growing up. But he knew two sisters who argued could be on another level. “Did Mom ask you to ask me?”

Their mom opened her mouth, but she spoke before her mom uttered a syllable. “No Emma, but it’s courtesy to do what mom asks you to do, you know?”

“I was going to get to it after I finished my makeup.”

“Right because the dishes need you to be looking your best to get in the cabinet. Forget it. I’ll do it,” she sighed rubbing a hand on her forehead. “Why are the Christmas lights still up? I thought you were taking them down last week while James was home?” She wondered.

“James didn’t want to,” Emma shrugged. “Who cares? It’s pretty in the snow.”

She shared a look with her mom who once more looked so much like Harry’s sweet Principessa. She looked exhausted.

Oh.

Her mother’s genes were really strong. The exhaustion wasn’t something that just happened to her, it had been happening for longer than she had been alive.

“Alright,” she sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. “I will...manage that too.”

“Sweetie, you don’t need to do everything,” her dad said.

She turned to him briefly with an irritated expression. One that said, by all means, you do whatever you want. But it stopped as quickly as it started. After her expression returned to neutral, she began to unload the dishwasher. Harry wanted to keep a mental list of things to mention to her while he was here. The first being the look she gave her dad.

“Why are you making cupcakes?” Her mom asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” she sighed in frustration. “The winter carnival is expecting them or something...” she rolled her eyes. To her sister’s defense, she used to always make them when she was in high school. A “secret” recipe of hers (even if it was by all accounts a pretty standard cupcake recipe). But it had been talked about since she graduated. She made them for her brother and every year someone’s sibling of someone she knew from high school knew her and would ask.

Unlike her sister, everyone else had the courtesy to ask months in advance. Not a week like Emma. “I thought you knew!” She had exclaimed when she told her about it. “You always make them!”

“You didn’t ask!”

“I didn’t know I had to!” Emma was nearly hyperventilating on the phone thinking that she wasn’t going to make them because she had waited too long. But that was too much to explain to her mom. It was expected of her, and she should have known that she needed to make cupcakes. How could she not?

Harry was chatting with her father. Inquiring about how they had met and so forth. If Harry was into sports or if he liked fishing. She hoped Harry wouldn’t let it slip why she moved. “We haven’t seen her new place,” her dad admitted.

“S’nice. Y’should come by. We’ll make y’a delicious dinner too at the restaurant,” Harry promised.

She continued glancing over while the dishes were put in the correct cabinet, and she reloaded items from the sink to the machine. “Why don’t you make her do things, Mom?” She asked tiredly. Emma was inserting herself into the conversation with Harry and her dad. Her mom helped by clearing off the counters as quickly as possible.

She shrugged. “You know how Emma is,” she said.

“Kick her out,” she knew it was dramatic, but maybe even a threat would be helpful.

“Sweetie,” she rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You know that’s not how I operate. I could never kick out the three of you.” Plus, if she did kick her out, she would end up right at her doorstep. Right outside Dolcezza. “Who’s Harry? He’s cute,” she smiled excitedly.

Shaking her head, she sighed. “Harry’s a friend.”

“A cute friend,” she whispered peeking over at him still chatting with her father and sister.

Her face warmed and she shook her head. “Stop.”

“Don’t know many boys who would drive them home to their crazy family and spend the day baking and running errands.”

She nodded. “I know.”

Once the kitchen was mostly cleared, she was certain her dad loved Harry. To be fair, it was pretty easy to fall in love with him. She had done it about a thousand times. Emma was starstruck. She eyed his tattoos and his muscular arms. Harry had the best smile and the nicest eyes. Emma was going to be a giggly mess.

“Alright, I made shepherd’s pie for when you finish baking and before you go see James. What did he say he needed that you had to come?” Her mom asked.

Harry turned his attention back, wondering as well. She hadn’t said anything about the reason for her brother and added it to the list in his mind for when they headed to his off-campus apartment. “Just haven’t seen him in a while,” she shrugged.

“Probably needs money,” Emma snorted.

Her mom looked at her. “Sweetheart, don’t you dare give your brother money.”

She rolled her eyes. “Better me than you,” she mumbled.

Harry was starting to understand why this was going to be a long day.

Everyone left the kitchen and she got to work getting bowls, preheating the oven and all the other things she needed in a flurry of activity.

“M’not much of a baker, kitten. S’gonna have t’be all you. But m’really good at taking direction,” he promised with a smile. “Jus’ tell me what t’do.”

It was the cutest thing ever to see her put an apron on that was decorated with flowers on the print. She rolled her sleeves up to her elbows and twisted her hair back out of her face. She was adorable. “You’re sure?” She asked.

“S’all you, Principessa.”

“Okay, I just work really quick because I have to do other things so—”

“Okay,” he interrupted with a nod and a deeper smile. One that made the dimple in his cheek poke through. It poked right through her heart. “S’fine. I can do that,” he assured her with a head nod.

“Thank you, Harry,” she said gratefully.

“Course, kitten. M’happy t’help you. You’ve been helping so much in the kitchen. S’least I can do,” he squeezed her upper arm as he gazed at her hoping she would just see how much Harry liked her. They worked quickly, stirring all kinds of batter. They were making three different cupcakes: chocolate, vanilla, and red velvet. Her recipe was easy to follow. He liked her extra touches that made it her own and he thought that he would have to tell Antonio to hire her full time just to make cupcakes. “How come y’not a baker?” Harry was pulling the cupcakes out of the tins so he could place more paper cupcake holders to dole out more batter. He lined the cupcakes on every available surface. He insisted on this job since as he kept telling her, his fingertips were immune to the hot temperatures of the cupcakes right out of the oven.

“It’s a nice little hobby,” she smiled. “I don’t think I have enough good stuff just to open a little shop and sell cupcakes.”

“Would y’want to?” He wondered.

She shook her head. “No...I like my job. I’m good at it.”

“M’sure you are jus’ good at everything y’do, kitten,” he chuckled.

She smiled and put her hand on Harry’s arm as she walked behind him. In between rounds of trays going in and out of the oven, she was working on the pile of dishes and the dishwasher. It was almost done, and he was impressed (but not surprised) by how efficiently she worked. They chatted more about her job—she was a finance manager for a big company in the city near Dolcezza. She enjoyed it; her coworkers were nice, and people valued her skill. Not that that surprised Harry in the slightest. She found it nice to work from home as long as she maintained specific working hours.

“That was the hardest adjustment about working at home. I was worried I would just work all the time.” He nodded understandingly enjoying the passion she had for everything she did. “I think maybe if I wasn’t doing this, I would want to teach people about finance,” she shrugged.

“Y’would teach bratty teenagers?” Harry asked in surprise with a smile.

“I’m pretty good with them,” she winked and jutted her chin toward the empty hallway coming off the kitchen indicating Emma, of course. Harry laughed and shook his head at her.

After more chit chat, there were about 130 cupcakes cooling and waiting to be frosted after a while. “Do you mind helping with the lights?” She asked quietly. The last batch of cupcakes just went in, and all the cleaning was almost done.

Harry turned to see her pink cheeks. It was hard for her to ask for help, Harry could see that. But it was really exciting for him to hear her ask. It was a huge step. Even if it was already implied that he would help her with whatever. “Course, Principessa,” he smiled. “M’happy to.”

“This has to be the worst day off in the history of the world for you.”

“I don’t know. Cupcakes and a pretty girl?” She dropped her gaze to the sink and Harry smiled at her shyness. “S’better than me jus’ sleeping the day away,” he smiled.

“Don’t you have... a date or something?” She wondered, looking as far away from Harry’s face as possible. She didn’t want to catch his expression in her peripheral. “It’s Friday. I imagine you only get a Friday off once in a while.”

He smirked with a shake of his head. She was oblivious.

Or maybe she just didn’t want to see it because of who she was. Harry adored her and that probably scared some part of her, even he could recognize that. “It rotates,” he agreed. “But... no. M’not really interested in dating anyone,” he told her.

“No?” She frowned before she could stop herself. Immediately, she regretted saying it. But was desperate to know the answer.

His heart sped. He wondered if the strong, rhythmic beating would break one of his ribs. Closing the oven, he turned to see her still working on the dishes. But after a near silent moment, he stopped her movements, grabbed her by the wrists and turned her around from the sink. Her hands dripped water on the floor, and he shifted her so that her back was to the counter. His hands pressed on either side of her hips against it, and he put a breath of space between them. “I’d make an exception for you,” he promised and scanned her face. Her eyelashes fluttered and she swallowed hard.

“Yeah?” She whispered.

“Always, Principessa,” he murmured and dropped his gaze to her lips.

Her brain got the better of her again, making her mouth speak before she could comprehend what she was about to say. Her breath was airy, her mind spinning with the scent of vanilla cupcakes and Harry’s shampoo filling her nose as he leaned toward her. “You’re really going to kiss me in my parents’ house? When it’s crazy, and I’m crazy, and they’re—”

Harry chuckled, bringing a hand to the side of her face, and brushing his thumb against her cheek. As hard as his heart was beating, it felt so suddenly slow. Like this was normal and what he was supposed to do. It didn’t need a crazy heartbeat. It was simply what he was supposed to do. He glanced briefly around to see if her family was nearby—he wouldn’t want to intentionally embarrass her. “Yeah, kitten. Guess I am,” he shrugged and leaned the final distance to press his lips solidly between hers.

The moment his lips touched her, she felt her knees soften. Like she was going to fall over. All the blood in her body rushed from her extremities to her heart. It made her feel weak all over. His lips were so soft, like little down pillows. They weren’t chapped at all like she thought they’d be. Her whole body felt a rush of warmth, like the oven was open and brushing hot air over her. Her lashes fluttered, making her eyes close and she wished she dried her hands because she wanted to hold onto him, but didn’t want to get his shirt wet when he had nothing else to wear.

She sighed deeply. It was so sweet. It made his chest ache with want; he wanted to be closer. Wanted to kiss her longer. Wanted to wrap her in his arms and never ever let her go. Harry had never kissed anyone that had sighed so softly like that while kissing him. It was so very her and it made him feel like he was going to melt into the floor. Her lips tasted like chocolate from when she tested the batter. His hand kept hold of the side of her face while he nipped and pecked at her lips. The other pressed against the counter, the length of his body pressed to hers, the only two things keeping him upright and not bringing them down to the kitchen floor.

He released her lips after a moment causing a beautiful breathy sigh to leave her lips. His gaze was so intense she felt it in her stomach. It couldn’t have been more than forty-five seconds of kissing, but he would have taken an hour, and it wouldn’t have been enough. She wiped a hand on her apron and then brought it to her mouth to touch her tingly lips.

Harry’s breath was a little shallow and she was grateful he sounded a little worse for wear only because she was worried, she was going to pass out right in the middle of the kitchen. “Thanks,” she whispered.

He chuckled, shaking his head. That was very much a her thing to say at a time like this. It made his stomach flutter with excitement. “Pleasure was all mine, Principessa,” he mumbled pressing a kiss to her forehead and gently squeezing the side of her face as he held her cheek.

They stood for a moment staring at each other like they had never seen each other before. As awful as her day was, and as frustrated as her family could make her feel, this was infinitely better than what she thought it would be.

“We should... take care of the lights,” she whispered. Not that she wanted to, but kissing Harry with three quarters of her family one room away did not seem ideal.

He nodded. “Okay,” he released her cheek making her regret her choice because she felt utterly cold. She shivered and Harry sighed as he stepped away from her. Right as she turned back for the sink, the water still running, Harry caught her wrist again and pulled her so quickly to him her heart skipped a beat. “One more,” he mumbled and brought their mouths back together just as quick as he pulled her toward him, she hardly had time to react. His tongue gently tracing the length of her lip making her sigh again and he thought he would surely explode from how much he liked her.

“Where are the boxes?” She asked as she put her coat on. Harry pulled her hair from getting trapped and smoothed it softly on the back of her jacket. He found about a hundred excuses to touch her in the last half hour while they waited for the cupcakes to finish and for her to finish cleaning. The kitchen looked better now that she had been in there.

“In the attic,” her sister said looking up from her phone briefly. She sighed, frustrated that her siblings hadn’t even gotten the boxes down last week. Harry followed her upstairs. In the little hall between all the doors leading to what he assumed were bedrooms and at least one bathroom, was the ceiling door for the attic.

She pulled the cord to bring down the ladder, the hinges of the door groaning.

“Sweetie, wait!” Her mom shouted suddenly. Harry yanked her so hard around her waist as the door opened widely. He pulled her back toward the empty half of the hallway, causing them to fall in a heap right as the ladder half fell, dangling, unhinged to half of the frame of the opening. She would have gotten a serious smack to the face had Harry not pulled her out of the way. She felt so warm in his arms. Even if her falling on top of him with her full weight could not have felt good. She could feel her face burning in embarrassment.

“Emma, are you fucking serious?!” She screamed. She scrambled to get to her feet. She helped Harry back to her feet. “Are you okay?” she asked nervously, her eyes looking him over quickly and her mom had reached the top of the steps. Her eyebrows pinched together. She looked so emotionally hurt. The poor thing.

Harry shook his head looking at the ladder and then at her, still worried she hurt herself. He definitely yanked her really hard, and he did his best to take the brunt of the fall, but that couldn’t have felt good. “M’fine, Principessa, are you alri—”

“How is that my fault?!” Emma shouted.

“You knew it was broken and didn’t tell me?!” She hurried down half the steps to yell at her sister.

“Harry, I’m so sorry,” her mother said.

“It’s okay. We’re alri—”

“Is that why you two didn’t do the decorations?” She was seething. From the top of the steps Harry could see her shoulders heaving with each breath. “Are you serious?”

“What?!”

“The ladder almost hit Harry and I!”

“Kitten,” he started down the couple steps and he touched her shoulder gently.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Her mom asked.

“I was going to fix it tomorrow,” her dad called from another room.

“I’m fine, I promise,” Harry smiled gently at her mother wondering how she could be ignoring the screaming match.

“Why are you even dealing with the decorations, you came to bake cupcakes!”

“Emma you’re being a selfish brat, not once did you say thank you—”

“Principessa,” Harry’s voice was low, and he moved his hand to her lower back.

“You always make cupcakes!”

“—you do nothing but make messes that Mom has to clean up you could have at least put the decorations away!”

The screaming was reaching levels Harry hadn’t heard before. Especially not from his sweet, pretty angel. He worried about how her throat would feel from yelling so loud and of course the anger that was rippling through her made him worry she would shake so much she would fall down the steps.

“Sweetie,” her mom said pushing past Harry very gently. “It’s okay—”

“Mom, it’s not okay. She is a lazy, spoiled brat and you don’t—”

“Just because you’re older doesn’t mean you get to come over and act like you run everything! You act so high and mighty! We’ve been fine without you living here and bossing all of us around. Can’t you just relax for two seconds and stop being a bitch?!” Emma did not once get up to look at her sister during this conversation.

She finally stopped. Her breathing no longer heaving, she stopped shaking. She flexed her jaw. “The cupcakes need to cool. We’re going to see James and I’ll be back to frost them when we get back,” she snapped and headed down the steps.

“Sweetie,” her mom said softly.

“Dad,” she called stiffly.

Harry followed as quickly as he could.

“Yeah?” His voice was quiet.

“Can you bring the ladder inside that will reach the attic while I’m gone?” She asked.

“Sure thing, sweetie,” he promised.

She walked right out the door and closed it behind her.

“I am so sorry, Harry,” her mom whispered.

“It’s alright. M’gonna make sure she’s alright. I have a sister,” he said encouragingly with a gentle smile. “I get it,” he shrugged. “We’ll be back,” he promised following after her.

They drove in silence to her brother’s apartment. Harry reached over and placed his hand on the top of her thigh, but she didn’t hold it the way she had when he drove earlier. She stared out the window the whole time. There wasn’t a word of discussion. Harry didn’t speak, he didn’t play music, just gently moved his index finger back and forth, trying to soothe her as much as possible from the small movement.

James was a half hour away from their house and when there was only ten minutes left of the drive, Harry cleared his throat. “That wasn’t nice of your sister,” he whispered.

“Can we do this later?” She answered.

He frowned. “Principessa.”

“Look, it was really bad and I’m so embarrassed that you saw that and heard that. I’m sad you gave up your day off to deal with my insane family. I feel bad you’re stuck with me for the remainder of the day so I would rather just have you tell me to leave you alone when we’re on the way home—”

Shaking his head quickly, Harry thought about pulling over because surely they had entered an alternate dimension. “Kitten, what on earth are y’talking about?”

“I don’t want to do this, Harry. I’m so close to crying, it’s not even funny.”

He was quiet for a full minute. “Y’don’t have t’be embarrassed around me, Principessa. M’not going anywhere. The only reason I wish we were on our way home is so I could walk y’upstairs and kiss y’outside your door for a lot longer than we did,” he squeezed her thigh gently.

Another silent minute. They were five minutes from James’ place. “Really?” She whispered.

He glanced at her. He could see her teary gaze. The one that broke his heart when she wasn’t feeling well. It broke his heart all over again. “Really, kitten,” he promised. “We can talk ‘bout it later. But y’family doesn’t make me like y’any less. Other than worrying ‘bout you, m’having a lot of fun,” he promised. “Got a new cupcake recipe, got to see cute baby pictures of you, and got to kiss you. So...this is pretty much the best day off I’ve had in years.”

Her heart felt splintered and broken by her sister’s mean words. She was certain Harry would hate her and wouldn’t want anything to do with her. “You still want to kiss me?” She asked.

“Always, Principessa,” he nodded. “I’d ‘ve kissed you the whole way here if it were possible,” he assured her.

Taking a deep breath, she nodded. “I’d like that,” she admitted.

He chuckled, smiling happier than he felt the last twenty-eight minutes worrying about her. “I really, like you Principessa,” she turned that pretty pink that Harry liked so much. He could see it in his peripheral. “I don’t think you’re bossy or mean. I think you are the kindest, most caring person ‘ve ever met,” he put his car in park outside the apartment building the GPS directed him to. He cupped her face again and kissed her forehead. It felt perfect. Like Harry had kissed her a hundred times before. He peered into her eyes with the same look he had right before he kissed her in the kitchen.

“I’m sorry. I think... we have to wait,” she whispered her breath catching in her throat. She felt dizzy with his breath filling her senses. He frowned.

“Don’t want to kiss?” he asked worried she was still going to push him away.

“No... no...” she shook her head her breath uneven. “I do. I very much do. But I won’t...” she sighed nodding quickly. “I won’t want to stop. And I—”

Harry chuckled dropping his lips to press a line of kisses from one cheek to the other over the bridge of her nose. “S’okay, kitten. I’ve waited nearly nine months t’kiss you. Can wait a few more hours,” he promised.

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lipglossanon · 1 year

Text

I Can Be Your Thrill (Can I Be Yours?)

❀*̥˚─◌──◌──❀*̥˚❀*̥˚──◌──◌─❀*̥˚

subby steobro!Leon S. Kennedy x older fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, stepcest, reader is only a few years older than Leon but everyone’s 18+ just fyi, subby Leon, needy Leon, lovesick Leon, big dick Leon 😌, bossy reader, kissing, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), cum eating, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink, uhh that’s all I can remember 😆

slightly proofread for once 😯 😆

Title from Flowers by The Neighbourhood

❀*̥˚─◌──◌──❀*̥˚❀*̥˚──◌──◌─❀*̥˚

It’s a lazy Saturday afternoon and you find yourself at home alone, which is always nice. Your mom and stepdad left on some overnight gambling trip leaving you and your dorky stepbrother home. Dorky might be a little harsh you think. Leon’s sort of corny but in that endearing kind of way.

He tries so hard to be a doting little brother that you’ve developed a soft spot for him. It also doesn’t hurt that he’s probably the hottest guy you’ve ever seen in your life. It’s funny to you that for him to be so much bigger than you, you’re the eldest. You sigh out loud, mentally picturing your younger, tall, buff stepbrother; he doesn’t make it easy.

Once he and his dad moved in with you and your mom, you both ended up going to the same high school. Since you’re only a few years older, you and your friends used to tease the cute little brother you inherited with your mom’s new marriage.

Leon was a good sport about it when you look back on those times, he let you drag him everywhere; he even let you use him as a guinea pig for your lipgloss or nail polish testing. He’d sit on your bed while listening to the radio as you painted his nails whatever fun color you wanted to test out, not wanting to use your own cause where’s the fun in that?

You frown to yourself; you used to hang out with Leon a lot until you graduated. Now with a few years of college under your belt, taking online courses while working a part time job, you don’t really see him as much anymore. Your parents think it’s the best thing for you to stay at home, not wanting you to struggle when earning your degree, so at least you get to see Leon from time to time.

Speak of the devil, you can see from the couch as Leon comes through the front door, kicking his shoes off before he even notices you lounging in the living room.

You watch with a little smile as you see him get flustered at what you’re wearing; it’s nothing too crazy, but the shorts ride a little high and your shirt’s so thin that you can nearly see your nipples. If you needed, you could argue that you’re relaxing at home so it’s no biggie.

Also you just love to tease Leon. He’s so sweet to you that it kind of makes you want to pick on’em just a little bit.

“Welcome home,” you smile up at him as he walks closer to the couch.

“Thanks,” cheeks pink as he shyly replies, “you just hanging out here today?”

You hum in agreement and bring your legs up to criss cross them, patting the couch cushion next to you.

“Wanna join me?”

His eyes dart nervously to you then back to the spot before he nods.

“Sure.”

He sits down but you shift until you’re sitting side by side, thighs nearly brushing. You practically drape yourself on his arm as you throw your legs across his lap.

You hear him gasp a little as his posture stiffens. Smiling to yourself, you walk your fingers down his thick bicep to his forearm.

“What’d you get up to today, little bro?”

He shivers and clears his throat, “O-oh uh s-some of the guys wanted to c-chill.”

His little friends used to come all the time, and would always hit on you. You sort of egged it on just because it ticked Leon off. The last time they dropped by, the suave one, Luis, tried his damndest to get you to go out with him. You hammed it up with giggling and touching his arm, but really just kept it up for Leon.

Once Leon actually saw what was going on, he grabbed you and tossed you over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. He walked to your room and dropped you down onto the bed.

“Don’t talk to Luis,” Leon’s blue eyes narrowed at you, “he’s bad news.”

You raised up to sit crossed legged on your bed ignoring the wetness pooling in your panties.

“Aww, you worried about little old me?” You laughed, feeling excited at Leon’s attitude.

“I mean it, sis,” he pouted at you (pouted! ugh it makes you swoon to think back on), “please don’t go out with him.”

You smiled up at him and make grabby hands. A relieved smile crossed his face and he let you pull him down for a hug.

“Promise I won’t, Leon,” he sighed into your neck at your words, goosebumps racing across your skin.

“Thank you,” as he pulled back you saw a blush cross the bridge of his nose.

Bringing yourself back to the present, you ask, “Well did you have fun?”

“Y-yeah,” his voice is soft, “we met up with some girls from school.”

“Oh?” you press closer to him, squishing your breasts against his arm, “did you hit it off?”

You see his cheeks darken with a blush as he ducks his head down with a mumble.

“Hmm?” you press closer pushing your face next to his, feeling the heat of his blush.

“Kinda,” he pulls back, eyes watching you nervously, blush now reaching down to his neck.

“Kinda?” you tilt your head, baring your neck to Leon, drawing his gaze to your skin, “well did you get a cute girl’s number or what, little brother?”

He closes his eyes with a small shiver, before reopening them with darker pupils, “No, I-I didn’t. A few of the other guys did.”

“Aww,” you cluck your tongue, “better luck next time, Leon,” you reach up and ruffle his hair with a giggle.

He huffs a laugh, eyes soft as they watch you, “Yeah maybe next time.”

You both smile at each other, soft and sweet, the moment stretching between the two of you taffy thick.

He sways towards you and pauses so close your eyelashes brush. His chest hitches but before he can say anything there’s a knock followed by the doorbell chiming.

You’re both slow to pull away, Leon shaking his head as he pushes you to stay on the couch.

“I got it,” his eyes drop to your chest then legs before dragging back up to your face, eyes serious, “don’t move.”

You giggle and press your foot against his thigh, pushing him away from the couch.

“Okay, Mr. Man-of-the-house, go see who it is.”

He smiles at you, grabbing your ankle tugging it gently, “That’s right, so stay here.”

Butterflies light up your insides as he turns and walks over to the front door. He answers the door, but doesn’t move so you can’t even see who’s there. Nosiness getting the better of you, you move off of the couch and sneak over to the door.

“You cut out early, Leon,” a male voice gripes, “what am I gonna tell Ada? She’s been bitching at me for weeks to get you to show up to this group date and you blow us off?”

Leon shifts his weight to cross his arms as he leans against the door jamb. You bite your lip as you let yourself do a once over of his big biceps and muscled forearms.

“Yeah, so? I’ll tell you like I told Luis, I’m not interested. Ada and I went out one time and she ghosted me ever since. Why the hell would I want to see her again?”

You frown at Leon’s back. Ada.. Ada.. Ada… the name seems like it should ring a bell but you’re drawing a blank.

“You know that’s just how she is,” the voice bargains, “she likes playing hard to get, makes her mysterious or some shit. C’mon, if we head out now we can catch up with’em before the movie.”

Leon’s posture goes cold, “Then fuck off, Krauser. Ada can play hard to get all she wants but I’m not interested,” he shrugs, “I’m not going.”

You take a side step and the floor creaks loudly. Leon straightens up and gives a quick glance at you before turning back to Krauser.

“Oh, I see,” Krauser laughs, “you got plans with some hot little number, eh comrade?”

You roll your eyes and walk towards Leon, weaseling your way under his arm as he tries to block the door from you.

“Hi,” you pop up with a grin, pressing your side all against Leon’s, “it’s nice to meet you! I’m Leon’s sister.”

You come face to face with a ruggedly handsome guy who has an air of jock mentality. A slow grin overtakes his features.

“I didn’t know Leon had a sister,” he looks over at him, “shame that it must’ve slipped his mind.”

“Yep,” Leon grit out, trying to subtly pull you back in the house.

Krauser’s glacier colored eyes rake down your body salaciously, “Why don’t you come along with us? I was going stag tonight so you can be my date.”

You bat your eyelashes at him, “As appealing as that is sauerkraut, think I’m gonna pass.”

Leon’s lips twitch hard to stifle the laugh building in his chest as he finally tugs you back behind him.

“You heard the lady,” Leon grinned at Krauser’s dumbfounded expression, “have a nice night, Krauser.”

Shutting the door in his face, Leon loses it. He grabs you around the middle and buries his face in your neck as he laughs.

“I can’t believe you,” he wheezes, “god, he’s never gonna live this down.”

You giggle and rub your hands through Leon’s hair, “C’mon let’s go watch some shitty TV. I wanna hear about this group date you ditched.”

He groans but lifts his head up, pulling his arms back, “Yeah like that sounds appealing.”

You grab his hand and pull him until you’re both sitting on the couch, similar to earlier only now your back is against the arm rest as you practically sit on Leon’s lap while he faces the tv.

“Spill,” you wrap both arms around one of his and jostle him, “I wanna hear why you turned down a hot date with Ada,” you do a poor job waggling your eyebrows at him making him scoff.

He rolls his eyes, “You don’t even know who she is.”

“So?” you pout, “dish! I wanna know!”

His hands rest on your thighs, randomly massaging and tracing his fingers along the skin as he talks, “We met up and went out and then she completely ghosted me. Ignored my calls and texts, blocked me on all of her socials.”

You feel a flicker of annoyance that only ramps up as Leon talks, voice sounding resigned—matter of fact.

“I mean I guess she was out of my league. She was a new transfer, s’why you don’t know her,” he continues, “but everyone was chasing after her and I just lucked up on getting a date with her.”

“Leon,” you say his name softly, wanting him to feel better.

He keeps his gaze down on your legs as he keeps running his hands along them, “And we also hooked up that night, but then after she just ignored me so I kinda left it at that.”

You reach out with your fingertips and gently grab Leon’s chin, turning him so he faces you.

“You don’t need someone like that, Leon,” your eyes are heated, indignation making your voice clipped, “that was super shitty of her to do and you definitely deserve better. She sounds like a fuck boy,” you roll your eyes with an angry huff, “actually if you want, we can catch up with your sauerkraut friend and she can catch these hands.”

He laughs at you—with you, sea blue eyes soft and fond, “Mm I think she might kick your ass and then I’d have to kick her ass, which would result in definite jail time.”

You fake gasp, “The audacity Leon Scott Kennedy! I could totally kick ass. You’ve never even seen me fight!”

He laughs again, hands sliding up to your sides to graze your ribs, “Oh yes I have, you try to fight me every time I tickle you and you always lose.”

“I let you win, like a good big sister does,” you sniff haughtily, squirming as Leon’s fingers start to lightly dig into your sides, “you better not, Leon.”

“Or what?” he grins, fingers slowly walking their way down your ribs to dig into your hips.

You squeal and kick out your legs but Leon just grabs you and drops you into his lap so he can tickle and pinch your sides.

“Leon!” breathless laughter bubbles out of your throat, “stop! You’re so mean!”

“C’mon fight me off, show your little brother how tough you are,” he taunts, “c’mon, you said you could do it.”

You keep squirming, trying to catch your breath and failing as giggles escape your lips. You try to grab at Leon’s hands but he twists them out of your grip easily and he digs them back into the spots that make you squeal the loudest.

On one particular jab into your ribs, you rock your hips just right and feel how hard Leons gotten underneath you. He hisses, flushing red all over as he grabs your hips to hold you still—away from his half chubbed cock.

“Fuck, ‘m sorry,” he looks off to the side, embarrassment and shame radiating off of him in waves, “just give me a minute and I’ll, uh, leave.”

“Leon,” you pull in a breath trying to regulate your breathing from all the laughing, “hey look at me, please.”

He slowly drags his attention back to you, a hang dogged expression on his face.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, hoping he can tell how much you mean it, “promise, okay? If anything, I’m kinda flattered.”

You smile at him and he gives you a weak one in return.

“Y-yeah? You’re not grossed out or anything?” his small voice makes your heart pang in your chest.

“Of course not,” you assure him, running your hands through his hair to soothe him, “you can’t help it when you have a warm body rubbing all over you, it’s just hormones at that point.”

His face drops further, “Sure.”

You stop petting his hair and let your hands settle on his shoulders, “Hey I mean it.”

“I know, just that—“ he clams up and looks away again.

“Leon,” you lightly shake him, “hey I promise it’s okay, it’s not me that—“

“But it is,” he blurts out, hands tightening their grip on your hips, “it is because you’re on my lap.”

“Oh.”

It comes out breathier than you intended but it does get Leon’s attention, eyes questioning and anxious.

He’s not expecting you to move again so you easily rock down on his thickening cock, making him grip you tighter and stilling your movement.

“What—“

You bite your lip, arousal at the situation making your clit throb and panties wet.

“Leon,” you sigh against him and grab one of his hands to move it down to your hot cunt, thin shorts already becoming damp with slick.

His pupils blow wide as you let go of his hand letting him touch you with his broad palm.

“This is— you’re so—“ he stutters, eyes darting from yours down to where he’s cupping your pussy, “can I?”

You giggle. He’s so adorable right now, so overwhelmed and nothing has even happened. You rock against his palm with another sigh.

“Mm should probably take this to your room,” you lean forward and whisper in his ear, “gonna get you all wet and messy, baby brother.”

He groans and shuffles to the edge of the couch.

“Grab my neck,” he directs, grabbing your ass and lifting himself up.

You gasp then laugh, “God you really are strong.”

He somehow blushes harder, “I guess.”

You kiss his warm cheek as he quickly carries you to his room.

“You are, Leon,” you murmur and kiss his ear, “you’re so kind and sweet,” you kiss his neck, “and handsome.”

He leaves the door open once he enters his room, kneeling on the floor to gently sit you on the bed. Your belly swoops to see him at your feet gazing up at you like you hung the moon.

“Should we be doing this?” he whispers in the quiet, “it seems..”

“Dirty?” you ask, watching as his eyes study your face, “but doesn’t that make it hotter?”

He whines and presses his face against your thighs, hiding his face, voice muffled as he whispers, “Yeah, ‘m so hard right now it hurts.”

“Poor baby,” you coo and pet his hair, nipples hard and pressing against your shirt as he whines again.

“Get up here and lay down for me, Leon,” you tug his hair making him lift his head with a moan, pupils dark.

“You don’t want me to..” he trails off, cheeks so flushed he looks feverish, “you don’t want me to do anything first?”

You smile at him, heat rushing over your body at his sweetness, his neediness.

“Maybe later, pretty boy,” his eyes flutter at the nickname, “want you up here first, okay? Can you do that? Be a good boy for me?”

He moans loudly, and nods jerkily as he crawls up onto the bed next to you.

“Yeah, wanna be a good boy for you,” he lays flat on his back, cock tenting his jeans obscenely making your mouth water.

“Shirt,” you gesture and he quickly takes it off.

You straddle one of his legs, tapping the button of his jeans with a fingernail, “Wanna get all the way undressed for me, baby brother?”

His hips buck up, “Can’t—can’t c-call me that,” another low moan as he slips his jeans and boxers off, cock slapping against his stomach precum drooling from the uncut tip.

You sigh in pleasure as you run your fingertips over his thick thighs, “Why not? I think we both know you like it.”

Your eyes finally shift from his bobbing erecting up to his blushing face, “I know I do, baby brother.”

His cock jerks and drips all over his stomach making you smile coyly at him, “Mm see? At least he agrees with me.”

Leon moans, hips humping the air, “Please.”

You move your hand from his thighs to feather your fingertips against his balls before wrapping around his dick. Your fingers close around him in a fist, making you drip once you see they aren’t even able to touch.

“Leon, you’re so big,” you whisper excitedly, slowly stroking down then back up.

“Y-you like it? Don’t think it’s too much?”

You drop a kiss to his sticky tip making him groan.

“Definitely not,” you bite your lip, eyes watching as he keeps oozing precum all over your knuckles, “you’re really big.. but I like it. Gonna stretch me out so good.”

He whines, back arching as his hips fuck your fist.

“S-she said it wasn’t— that it was too much, not good for—“

Your expression softens as you slow your fist, “Leon, she’s an idiot. Every girl I know would fucking love to sit on your dick.”

He moans brokenly, cock kicking hard in your hand.

“R-really?”

“Really,” you smile at him and he shakily returns it.

You go back to firm strokes, quickly picking up speed and tightening your fist around his dick.

“So good, so g—fuck,” he whines, eyes looking up into yours as you jerk him off.

“Yeah?” you’re smiling at him, voice sweet, “want you to feel good. You’ve been such a good boy, haven’t you? Such a good little brother.”

His hips jump up as his cock kicks and drools precum all over your fingers, making them stickier as you stroke him off.

“Wanna be your good boy, wanna be big sister’s best boy,” he pants, eyes dropping back to your hand that’s barely able to wrap around his fat dick.

You pull his foreskin down to tease the drippy tip of his cock with your other hand making his thighs twitch like crazy.

“F-fuck, fuck, so sensitive, ungh—“

“Leon,” you nip at his earlobe, “I really want to ride your face.”

His cock leaks all over your hand as he whines, “Please, please, wanna eat you out so bad. Sometimes it’s all I can think about.”

You squeeze your thighs together, “Tell me. Tell your big sister what you’ve thought about.”

He grinds his head back against his pillow, “Burying my face in your pussy, and not being able to stop til you’re satisfied, and you just ignoring how hard I am,” he shivers, dick weeping precum.

“What else?” you whisper, softly stroking his cock.

“J-just using me as your dildo,” he gasps, abs tightening when you squeeze his cock, “fuck. Yeah, you just using my dick as a toy, not letting me cum o-or making me cum in you and still ride my dick even though I’m too sensitive.”

You moan and kiss him, letting him sloppily lick into your mouth. Leon’s eagerness makes your cunt throb.

“You wanna nut in me, baby brother?” you moan, jerking him off faster, “cream your sister’s pussy? Mmm so dirty.”

His eyes roll back as you duck your head down to kitten lick the fat head of his cock.

“S-stop, I ungh, I’m gonna c-cum,” his hips jump up, pressing his cock against your mouth and smearing precum across your lips.

You pull completely away, not even touching him anymore, to watch his cock throb and kick against his stomach.

“T-thank you,” Leon’s tear filled eyes look at you with complete adoration, “don’t wanna cum too soon.”

You grin at him, “Even if you cum, I’m not stopping, little bro.”

He rocks his hips up with a low whine, “Not fair that you’re so hot, ‘m gonna blow my load before we start anything.”

You slip your shorts off, taking your panties and placing them around his head— making sure the gusset is right over his nose and mouth. He moans, hands clenching his sheets as his tongue laps up the slick puddled in your panties.

“Isn’t that better?” you coo, climbing into his lap.

You both moan as you drag your slick cunt over his cock, sandwiching him between your pussy lips so the head bumps your clit on every slow roll of your hips.

Leon’s hands grab your hips but only to hold you as you rub your pussy all over his cock.

“So good,” he moans, muffled behind the fabric, “you’re so wet.”

“What, you’ve never had a girl get this wet for you?” You laugh, “I find that hard to believe little brother.”

He shakes his head, “N-no, not like this. Not like you. Fuck, you’re so—“

You arch down, letting his dick catch the edge of your hole before pulling back.

“I’m so what?” you let your nails drag up from his stomach to his heaving chest, teasing across his nipples.

His back arches into the feeling, pink buds hardening under your fingertips.

“You’re so perfect,” he whines as you settle on his cock, “the perfect big sister. So smart and sexy a-and god now I know you have the best pussy.”

Warmth blooms in your chest at just how earnest he sounds, “Really? How many pussies have you actually seen, Leon?”

“A c-couple,” he stutters out nervously, “I’ve only slept with two people.”

“Aw,” you pout at him, leaning up to pull the panties off his face wanting to see his eyes, “I was hoping I could steal your first. Pop my little brother’s cherry.”

He blinks at you, dark eyes adjusting as he blurts out, “You can, I mean the other two times weren’t great to be honest. Just quickies in the backseat of a car.”

“Leon,” a smile stretches across your face, “are you saying we should pretend I’m your first?”

He nods, “Yes, yes that’s what I mean. Please. Never thought I’d get a chance with you,” he blushes all the way down his chest, “but always wished you were my first.”

“That’s.. so sweet, Leon,” the butterflies flare up in your chest again, making you feel bubbly, “did those other girls not wanna take their time with you?”

He grins sheepishly at you, “I guess not? They didn’t exactly call afterwards as you know, so guess it wasn’t any good.”

Your brows pinch, “Leon, you deserved a good first time. Someone should have taken you apart in a bed until you couldn’t move.”

He rocks his hips up against your pussy, sliding against your clit making you moan.

“Will you?” he pleads up at you, “I know you’d make it so good for me.”

You sigh acting put out but you can’t wipe the smile on your face, “I was going for a dirty quickie, but I guess we can make it sweet.”

“We can do both,” he grins at you trying for coy but landing on saccharine, rubbing his dick against your clit, “wouldn’t mind my big sister fucking me stupid.”

You whine and grind down on Leon, “Next time, you can fuck me wherever you want.”

“In the living room? Wait,” he groans, “wanna fuck you in the shower. Finger you while you jerk me off til everything’s all wet and slippery.”

“Yes,” you pant, grinding harder against him, “you better finger me til I squirt.”

“Fuck, fuck,” he whines up at you, “you’re gonna make me cum if you keep talking like that.”

You bounce on his lap so his cock wetly smacks against your pussy.

“Oh really?” You give him a teasing smile, “my pretty little brother gonna cum all over himself before he even puts it in?”

“P-probably,” he whines as you giggle at him.

“You’re so cute, Leon,” you sigh, stroking his nipples with your fingertips and watching his abs jump, “I wanna cum on your cock so you’ll have to wait on eating me out.”

He mewls, watery eyes fluttering, “But you said you were gonna sit on my face.”

Your cunt throbs, “Mmm save that for later, big boy.”

He bucks his hips, “Promise?”

You giggle and raise up on your knees, “Promise, baby brother.”

He moans, loud and open mouthed. While he’s distracted, you grab the base of his cock and center it over your dripping hole. He drags his eyes down to watch as you slowly sink down his throbbing dick.

“Fuck,” your brows pinch, “you’re so big, Leon.”

He moans again, hips humping up into your pussy making you squeal as he buries his cock halfway into your wet hole .

“So good,” he slurs up at you, “pussy s’fucking good.”

You give a strangled laugh, easing yourself inch by inch down the rest of Leon’s thick cock until you’re sitting flush against him. He’s so deep it feels like he’s in your throat.

“Fuck,” he whines, rubbing his hand over your belly where you can feel his dick throb, “I’m s-so deep.”

He can’t hold his head up from the overwhelming pleasure, letting it drop down onto his pillow with a low groan.

“Mmm yeah you are,” you dizzily reach down to feel him bulging your lower belly, “you’re gonna ruin my pussy, Leon.”

“Yeah?” he’s moaning as your fingers stroke over the bulge from his dick, “you like it? Feels good?”

Warmth buzzes in your chest at his sweet earnestness.

“Yeah, Leon,” you sigh softly, settling yourself down on him, letting you both get used to the feeling.

“Wanna be your good boy,” he’s grabbing at your hands to put them on his chest, “wanna be good for you, so good for my big sis.”

You push off of his pecs, raising up just a few inches to slide back down making him whine and buck up into your clenching heat.

“You are being so good, Leon, so pretty and sweet for me,” you coo, “got such a nice big cock for me to use.”

“Yes,” he hisses, “use it, use me whenever you want.”

“Mmm,” you moan, slowly riding him, dragging out the syrupy hot pleasure between you, “see? Such a good baby brother.”

“Can I play with your tits?” he asks, eyes dark and needy, “really wanna touch’em.”

“Yes,” you sigh sitting back on him to slip your shirt off, breasts bouncing with the motion.

“God fuck you’re so—“ he squeezes his eyes shut for a minute before heatedly looking back up at you, “god, you’re gorgeous. Lookit those fucking tits, ‘m just, you’re—“

He cuts himself off with a low whine as you grind down in his lap from the praise.

“Mm y’sure know how to flatter a girl, little brother,” you giggle at his panting moans.

“S’true,” he gets out, practically drooling as you slowly bounce on his cock, “can’t believe you’d let me fuck your perfect pussy.”

You whine and hump yourself down harder on his cock, splitting your pussy open on every thrust.

“Leon,” you moan at him, taking his hands and putting them on your breasts, “god, you’re gonna get me addicted at this rate.”

“Good,” he groans, “want you to use my dick anytime you want. Use me to cum whenever, fuck, wanna be your toy, just a dildo for your pretty pussy.”

“Yes!” you arch down, burying his cock deep in your guts, feeling as his fat tip kicks against your cervix making you clench repeatedly down on him.

“So good, Leon” you hold still driving you both crazy as your fluttering walls milk his cock, “want me to use your big fat cock as a dildo? F-fuck, Leon that’s so hot.”

“Want you so bad,” he gropes your breasts, thumbs swiping over the nipples, “I’ll be whatever you want, just tell me who to be.”

“Oh, Leon,” you clench around him as he tugs on your sensitive nipples, “I like you the way you are.”

Your eyes soften as he watches you with a heavy lidded gaze, “Let’s swap, want you to get on top. Set the pace you like.”

“Y’sure?” his hands keep caressing your chest making goosebumps cover your arms.

You pull off of his dick with a bitten off moan as Leon lets out a full on whine. Your legs shake a little and you laugh as you fall next to Leon on the bedspread. He turns to you, face light and happy.

You pull him in for a kiss, tossing your leg over his hip. You trade kisses and giggles, softly making out until the giggles turn into low pants and moans with hips rolling to grind into one another—Leon’s cock dragging across your slick coated pussy.

You finally drag your mouth away, clit pulsing from how fucked out Leon already looks, “You said you wanted to pretend it’s your first time?”

“Uh huh,” his dilated eyes, sweep over your body and back up to your face, still rutting his leaking cock over and over your cunt.

“Those other girls really don’t know what they’re missing out on, Leon,” you murmur against his swollen lips, “you’re so sweet for me.”

He grins at you, cute aggression making you dig your nails into his shoulders.

“Is this really what you want?” you whisper, eyes searching his for any doubt, “promise I won’t be mad if you want to stop now.”

“I want to!” he assures you, grabbing your hip to press himself snug against your soaked pussy, dick bumping against your clit making you mewl.

“Promise, I want it,” he groans, letting you grind your sensitive bud up against his dripping cock, “honestly been imagining this for way too long.”

“Yeah?” you gasp as he lifts your leg higher until it’s wrapping around his ribs.

“Yeah, pretty much ever since I moved in,” he laughs derisively, “pathetic huh. There’s no way you thought of me that way.”

“Hey be nice,” you kiss his lips, biting his bottom one as you pull away, “you were too young for me then so you’re not wrong, but.. well you’ve gotten my attention in the last year.”

“No way,” he surged forward to kiss you hard, then move to your jaw down to your neck, tongue tasting your skin, “god I would’ve tried sooner then. Not wasted my time with Ada.”

“Good rule of thumb is to not mention previous conquests while in bed with another woman,” you pinch his hip, “and I wish you would have, too. But,” you squeeze him with the leg you have wrapped around his ribs, “now I have you all to myself.”

You rock your hips against him, gasping when the tip of his cock catches the rim of your hole.

“All yours,” he mumbles into your neck, “m all yours, your good boy.”

He ruts his cock upwards and breaches your needy pussy, sliding deeper and deeper into you until he finally bottoms out with a pained groan.

“S’good every time,” he bites your neck gently, making you hiss and clench around him.

He whines as he rocks his hips back and forth, cock slipping in and out of your wet clenching heat.

“Can we stay like this?” he wraps his arms completely around your body, tugging you until there’s no space to go anywhere, your head tucked into his neck.

You hum in agreement, “Sure, as long as you feel good.”

“It’s perfect,” he moans, bucking into your cunt harder a few times before going back to his softer thrusting.

“Good boy,” you coo in his ear, “my baby brother is so good for me, huh?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” he chants, grabbing your ass with both hands to hold you against his hips as he grinds deep into your spasming pussy.

“You serious about being my personal cock toy?” you nip his earlobe, “want me to tie you to my bed with pretty ropes and let me use you all night?”

“Please,” he chokes out, hips rabbiting into your squelching cunt, “I’ve fantasized about that so much. Just want you to boss me around, take what you want.”

You moan, biting the shell of his ear, “Then starting tonight I want you naked in my bed. You don’t get to touch until I say so. I’m gonna ride your face and if you’re good, I might let you jerk off.”

His back arches, a low groan from his chest slipping past his lips, “Anything, anything, please.”

You giggle, pussy walls fluttering and milking his dick, “Oh baby brother we’re gonna have so much fun.”

He whines a high airy note, sounding so pitiful, “M gonna cum soon, so close.”

You roll back, pulling him with you until you’re pinned under his bulky weight, “How do you want to finish?”

His eyes nervously look down your body to where he’s fucking you open, fat cock splitting you in two with each hard thrust.

Mouth panting, he looks back into your eyes, “C-can I put you in a mating press?”

Slick drips past his cock as you let out a mewling whine.

You’re nodding before you even answer, “Yes, that’s so hot, Leon. You want to breed your sister’s pussy that bad?”

He moans, “Y-yeah, want to pin you down and fuck my cum into you.”

“Mmm,” you smile up at him, “I’ll let you do that this time since it’s your first.”

He eagerly slips his cock out of your soaking wet pussy and grabs your thighs, pushing your legs up to you shoulders. You loop your arms around your calves to hold yourself open for him. Leon shuffles until he’s in a crouch, dick angled down tip pressing into your hole as your pussy tries to suck him in deeper.

“Fuck,” Leon whispers, eyes watching as he lowers himself into your greedy cunt, walls pulsing around his thick cock making him lose his composure and bottom out quickly.

Body shivering, you moan feeling too full. There’s no way you’ll ever recover from having Leon buried in your guts; you weren’t kidding when you told him he’s going to ruin your pussy— he already has.

“Move, please, Leon,” you finally gasp out, his cock feeling like it’s lodged in your throat, “s’too much.”

“Sorry,” his dark eyes gaze at you in worry, “I can sto—“

You clench down on him making yourself squeal before finally gritting out, “Don’t you finish that fucking sentence. Want you to fuck me, Leon. I like that it’s too much. I’ll tell you if I want to stop.”

He nods, pulling halfway out and rocking back down making you whine.

“Those stupid girls did a number on you,” you grab onto his shoulders, keeping your legs tilted up for him to fuck into you, “but I can fix that.”

“Uh huh,” Leon’s hazy unfocused eyes are trained on where your pussy is spread open, your hole obscenely stretched around his dick.

You smile at him, feeling warmth buzz through your body followed by white hot arousal as Leon rubs against your g-spot just right.

“There, there, oh fuck,” you pant, nails digging into his muscled shoulders, feeling as his tendons flex to hold himself up while pistoning into your sloppy sounding pussy, “fuck, fuck, oh f—Leon!”

He adjusts his arms, placing one above your shoulder to balance himself so he can slip the other one down to gently rub and tease your clit.

“Good boy, Leon, you’re soo good,” you grind your head back into the bed, feeling too much all at once making your thighs jump and toes curl.

Leon’s so pussydrunk he can’t even form words so he just whines and grunts as he fucks into you harder and harder, the sound of skin slapping filling the room.

“Cum, g’nna cum, too good, fuck, gonna fill you up,” he babbles, brow furrowed as his hips chase his pleasure to completion, “can’t stop, sorry sis, can’t—g’nna cum in you,” he whines long and loud, “fuck ‘m about to cum in my big sister, fuck, gonna breed her pussy perfect fucking puss—“

He drops his weight down onto you making you scream as the fat head of his dick kisses your womb, pleasure-pain zinging from your cunt all through your body making your back bow off the bed. Your eyes are wide and unseeing, staring up at the ceiling as Leon stuffs you full of his cum. His cock kicks inside you as your pussy is completely filled with his hot sticky release. You dimly realize you’re cumming and have been since Leon fucked down into your cervix.

“You’re milking me so good,” he slurs, pushing his face into your neck, “can’t stop cumming.”

You whine, pussy walls pulsing around his fat cock as you feel thick spurts of jizz paint your insides white. Your hands move up from his shoulders to slip through his sweaty hair, petting him as you both try to catch your breath. Tugging his strands, he lifts his head and you surge up to kiss him, messy and wet. He sighs into the kiss, eagerly licking into your mouth letting spit drip down his chin making it a wet slide of lips and tongue.

He bucks forward making you moan into his mouth.

“God, wanna go again,” he pulls away, lips shiny and swollen eyes bright, “wanna fill you up again, please?”

“What?” your brows pinch in confusion, “what do you—ohh,” you moan as Leon fucks into your spent cunt, cock hard and throbbing again.

“Got me so bricked up, can’t help it,” he pants against your neck, hips picking up speed as he settles his weight down on you, wrapping your legs around his waist, “it’s a fucking wet dream I get to do this with you.”

“Leon,” you moan, tugging his hair but he stays lodged in your sensitive pussy, fucking you deep and fast, “you’re being so bad.”

“Noo,” he whines, not stopping as he fucks into you over and over and over, “just can’t help it, you feel too good, my hips won’t stop.”

“Bad boy,” you gasp as the tip of his dick knocks against your womb, making your eyes roll back in your head and toes curl, “gonna have to punish you.”

“Yes, yes, please, punish me,” he grunts into your neck, mouth open and sloppily licking at your skin, “just don’t make me stop, can’t help it.”

You can only pant and moan as Leon rails you into his bed again and again; your orgasm is slow and heavy making you cry out when it hits you, hips arching and spine curving to get Leon as deep in your cunt as possible.

“G’nna cum again, gonna breed you so good,” Leon sucks a bruise on your neck, “thank you, thank you, thank you.”

He kisses you sloppily as he cums inside your aching pussy, walls milking him until he’s spent. He finally pulls back, cock pulling out with a wet suctioning noise making you both moan. Leon watches in awe as his cum oozes from your fucked out hole, pussy lips fat and swollen.

You buck up into the wet heat of his mouth as he buries his face in your abused cunt.

“Leon!”

He hums in reply, grinding his face into your pussy and moaning as he eats the cum and slick from your oversensitive hole. You push him off of you with your feet, his face coated and messy.

“On your back,” you harden your tone, “now, Leon.”

He looks at you abashedly but does as you say. You quickly throw your leg over him and hover your cunt over his face.

“Since you need a lesson in listening,” you rock your clit down against his nose making him groan, “I’m gonna let you clean up the mess you made, baby brother. Then I’m gonna cum all over your pretty face. You don’t get to touch me anywhere else and you don’t get to touch yourself. Understood?”

He’s nodding before you even finish talking, “Yes, yes, ‘m sorry, I’ll be good, I swear.”

Your smile has bite as you reply, “You’ll be good if you want to keep tasting this pussy.”

He moans and you sit completely down on his face making his eyes roll back. His hot tongue greedily licks into your sore pussy.

“Clean it up, baby brother,” you coo down at him, “got my pussy all dirty.”

You feel as he groans low in his throat, rubbing his face deeper into your cunt, tongue fucking up into you. You grind down against his mouth, moaning as your clit rubs and bumps his nose.

“So needy, little brother,” you pet his hair, “gonna have to work for it though, pussy is a privilege.”

You’re jostled as he ruts his hips into the air. Giggling, you rock your hips further onto his tongue.

“Getting close,” you sigh, watching his eyes flutter, pupils completely swallowing the blue, “gonna make me cream your pretty face, baby brother.”

He growls up into your cunt making you mewl, bouncing down on him a little harder. He presses his tongue up just right as his nose catches and bumps your clit making you see stars as your orgasm washes over your body.

“Cumming, cumming, oh fuck,” you whine, riding his mouth as slick gushes from your cunt to fill Leon’s eager mouth.

You let him lap and suck at your pussy until overstimulation makes you raise up on shaky knees.

“Good boy,” you rub your hand down his face, fingers dancing over his red, swollen lips, “did so good for me, Leon.”

He nuzzles into your hand, eyes completely hazed over, “Mmm good. ‘M sorry.”

“I know you are,” you laugh softly, easing yourself up to lay down next to him, “you’re still getting punished though.”

He shivers, love sick eyes watching you, “‘kay.”

You look down your body and then at Leon, “We’re a mess.”

He dazedly looks at your creamy cum slicked thighs and groans, eyes slipping shut, “You’re gonna make me hard again.”

You giggle and push against his bicep, “Then let’s go take a shower. And only a shower.”

He smiles at you, all bubblegum sweet, “Sounds good.”

#subby stepbro!leon s kennedy #subby stepbro!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #subby stepbro!leon s kennedy x older fem!reader #stepbro leon s kennedy/you #stepbro!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #stepbro!leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #fem!reader #slightly older fem!reader

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starlightkun · 10 months

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❧ word count: 25.5k ❧ warnings: cursing, neck/shoulder biting and marking if you’re squeamish about that, talking about like werewolf scenting and stuff, blood, brief kissing with blood on/around mouths, this is a werewolf fic either you’re into this stuff or you’re not lol ❧ genre: fluff, so incredibly fluffy and sweet it should’ve been a warning honestly, established relationship, modern magical creatures au, college au, werewolf sungchan, human reader, ft. siren shotaro, werewolf jeno & various magical neos, same universe as strawberry sunday, sequel to changer ❧ extra info: this is a sequel to changer! it cannot be read as a standalone, you must read changer first! 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 (aside from changer to this one), 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: so this is technically the spiritual threequel (fourqual?) to my werewolf jeno fics (pupsick + abh) but you still don’t have to read those to understand this one at all! this is absolutely meant to be read by itself (after changer, ofc), and if you were able to survive changer, then you deserve a medal. and this is that medal, i suppose!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ explore the strawberry sunday universe more here!

The whole thing probably lasted just a couple seconds, but to you it felt like minutes, as every one of your heartbeats pounded through you, ricocheted around in your skull and grey matter. Could Sungchan feel that? Feel your pulse in his mouth? Was he scraping at it with his canines? Just one wrong move away from tearing open something vital?

“Shh, shh, it’s okay, Sung.” You wrapped your arms around your boyfriend, holding him close with no hesitation, even as his own arms were much slower to react. But once they did, he pulled you to him with a nearly crushing force, a strength that could all but make you forget that he was only half-werewolf.

Tonight, he’d let you stay with him for one of his shifts. It was exactly because he was half-werewolf that he’d even considered it in the first place, his shifts were much less intense than full werewolves, generally less violent and possibly dangerous for anybody who happened to be around him. He’d described it to you after the last full moon, that it was more just sort of painful, confusing, and sometimes sort of like when drunk-you left problems for sober-you, like drunk-dialing people or spending too much money online. Except in his case, werewolf-him generally destroyed smaller pieces of property like school notes or clothes. When he said that he always asked Shotaro to leave the night of the full moon, you asked if you could be with him the next time. It sounded terrible to have to do that alone every month. And to your surprise, he’d only responded with a weak ‘please?’

So when you’d arrived this afternoon, you’d taken everything out of his room that you feasibly could that he didn’t want to chew up: his bookbag, textbooks, nice sneakers, photo albums, laptop, etc. And then you’d locked the door, and stayed with him.

Now he was coming out of it—a glance at his bedside clock that had been knocked out of place but was otherwise fine told you that it was almost three in the morning. You cradled the back of his fully-human-again head, not minding the matted, damp hair.

“I’m right here,” you reminded him. “I didn’t go anywhere. I’m not going anywhere.”

You felt him shudder as he let out what sounded like a whine of pain. It made you worried about him staying up on his own two feet. “Sung? Do you need to lay down?”

He didn’t answer, and you realized he might not be back at the point where he could speak yet. Before you could finish weighing your options of attempting to drag the 186cm still partially-shifted half-werewolf to his bed by yourself, he’d buried his face in your neck, opened his mouth, and was resting his set of sharp canines against the curve of where your neck met your shoulder.

You breathed in through your nose, hand still on his head as he just… waited. For what, you couldn’t say. He was still whining softly, though now there was a slight undertone of need cutting through the pain you’d heard earlier.

Your hand was still resting on his head, and you gently pulled him closer, feeling the dull pressure of his teeth against your skin. “It’s okay, Sung. Whatever you need. I trust you.”

Finally, he closed his jaw. But it wasn’t a bite at all, it was more like a toddler teething on something cold to soothe their aching gums while their new teeth grew in. It didn’t hurt; he certainly wasn’t breaking skin, and you doubted that any marks would be left. The worst damage would be slobber, you were sure. If anything, it just… tickled. Suppressing a giggle at the feeling, you stroked his hair affectionately.

“There you go, Sung. There you go…” You murmured quietly. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay. You’re okay, baby…”

“Bite…” He finally let out a grunt that sounded akin to a real word.

“What? What was that?” You tried to pull your head back to be able to look him in the face, but he didn’t want to detach from you in the slightest, his whines becoming less pained and more pathetic. Giving up on the task, you shook your head just a little, “Never mind, sorry. But what were you saying, Sung? Something about biting? You didn’t chew anything up this time, actually. We kept you in check pretty well. Your wallet will thank us, I’m sure.”

Sungchan continued to mouth at your neck a couple more times before he gave another full body shudder and tremble, then fell to his knees. As wrapped up in each other as you were, you went down with him, your kneecaps only saved by the fact that he had a nice plush rug. Your forehead wasn’t so lucky, as it got cracked against his on the way down, and you bit your tongue as a result.

“Shit!” You hissed, but couldn’t even focus on your own pain for very long, because Sungchan was now leaning most of his weight forward onto you. You quickly readjusted hold him up by the underarms. “Woah, woah. You alright, Sung?”

“I… bite…” He groaned again.

“You bite your tongue too?” You guessed humorously, scooting to sit on the floor against his bed and ushering him to lay down with his head in your lap. Ideally, you’d be in the bed, not on the floor next to it, but this was close enough.

Sungchan curled up in your lap as if he’d forgotten how big he was, fitting as much of the top half of his body there as he could. It was as he turned over slightly onto his side that you finally got a good look at his face again and saw just how exhausted he looked. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a week, and his skin was warm, flushed, and drenched with sweat. You gently brushed the damp bangs away from his forehead with one hand, reaching your other up towards his nightstand. After fumbling around in the top drawer for a ridiculous amount of time considering you’d put it literally right on top, you finally grabbed the lunchbox filled with cold, damp washcloths and ice packs that you’d stored in there earlier.

Unzipping it, the ice packs were all melted, but the washcloths were still nice and cool, which was what you really needed. Taking the first one, you blotted it along Sungchan’s forehead, cheeks, and neck, following it up with fleeting touches of your hand to assess if it was really helping or not. Judging by the small, soft, not painful sigh he let out, it at least didn’t seem to be hurting.

“Y/N…” He panted, grabbing your wrist as you were pressing the washcloth to his cheek.

“Yep, I’m right here, Sung,” you reassured him, putting your other hand over his. “I’m right here, okay?”

“I…”

“Do you need something, baby? Water? Food?

“I want…”

You dropped the washcloth from his face to listen attentively. “Yeah, Sung?”

His eyes finally opened, letting you see that his irises were still the same glowing, burning amber as earlier in the night. Not quite out of his shift yet. He sat up until he was nearly level with your neck, breathing in deeply. His grip on your wrist tightened, then he all but collapsed back onto your lap again, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Mm… I should… We should… I wan’ to…” He was slurring his words like he was drunk, chest heaving with every breath, and his grip on your wrist relaxed until he was loosely holding your hand, pulling it down to cradle your forearm to his chest like it was a stuffed animal. “Wan’… give you my mating bite… Y/N…”

You stared down at Sungchan with wide, dumbstruck eyes. As he slowly blinked, you could see that his eyes were still that same bright gold. He just shifted further up to try to fit more of himself in your lap, though, pressing his head against your stomach and wedging his shoulder in the gap left by your criss-crossed legs.

Even as you were so shocked, you curled up and readjusted to mold your body around him, one hand giving his head a soft, reassuring pat as the other rubbed up and down his arm, soothing over the surely tired muscles.

“You…” You trailed off in your attempt to get clarification, unable to even begin to try to rephrase it yourself. In packs, mated werewolf couples bit each other in elaborate rituals. Neither of you were any of those things. Could Sungchan even give a werewolf mating bite, as a half-werewolf? Could you receive one? You definitely couldn’t give him one back. Wouldn’t he want one back? Or maybe not? Not to mention he wasn’t in a pack and had never been in his life. What did a mating bite mean to him?

God, your head hurt, and you weren’t even the one who had gone through a werewolf shift tonight.

Sungchan took another deep breath, and long, slow blink, his eyes almost back to their normal brown color. “‘Cause I… I love you. I wan’ to… ‘cause I love you… my… Y/N.”

His eyes fluttered shut, and you heard his breathing even out as he finally fell asleep in just a few moments.

It didn’t seem like you’d get the answer to any of those questions tonight. And as much as the idea of going any longer without knowing made your stomach twist into painful, uncomfortable knots, Sungchan needed the rest. He wasn’t in the right state for any sort of conversation like that. There wouldn’t be any way he’d be able to answer your questions even if you could force yourself to ask them.

Taking a deep breath, you leaned over to gently peck his hair. “Your Y/N loves you too, Sung…”

Your back ached. You had a crick in your neck. And another one in your back. And another one in another part of your back. And yet another one in one more part of your back. You groaned, rolling over in bed to try to crack some of the kinks out without having to actually get up.

That gave you pause. There was definitely a mattress underneath you, blankets covering you, and a pillow supporting your head. But you remembered falling asleep on the floor next to Sungchan’s bed after his shift last night.

Squinting one eye open suspiciously, you saw that it was still very dark in his room, but you had without a doubt been mysteriously tucked into his bed. Much too tired to investigate past that, you pulled the blankets up over your head and buried your face in your pillow, very quickly falling back asleep.

When you woke up again, it was brighter outside, and at first you thought Sungchan had put a weighted blanket on you in the middle of the night. Odd choice, considering you didn’t have one on you the first time you woke up, or at least that you could remember. And then you realized that Sungchan was your weighted blanket.

Your boyfriend was fully snuggled up on top of your back, completely passed out, as you were dozing on your front. You couldn’t even roll him over, he was dead weight. With a sigh, you closed your eyes again, wondering if you’d be able to go back to sleep for a second—third?—time this morning.

“You up?” He mumbled in your ear, voice barely above a hoarse grumble.

“You’re awake?” You asked in disbelief.

“Yeah?”

“So you’re suffocating me on purpose?”

He rolled off onto the mattress next to you, and immediately your lungs could work better. “Oh, so when you do it to me, it’s cute and I’m supposed to enjoy it, but when I do it, it’s attempted murder and ‘Ouch, Sungchan, get off of me, you’re crushing me with your big, huge werewolf muscles.’”

“So I don’t need to ask if you’re feeling better,” you scoffed, but nevertheless shifted onto your side to face him.

He wasn’t pink-faced and sweaty anymore, instead looking unnaturally pale, with dark circles under his eyes like he’d pulled two all-nighters in a row for finals week. You cupped his cheek, gently running your thumb under one of his eyes. His skin wasn’t warm to the touch, instead it felt the same temperature as yours—cold for a werewolf or half-werewolf.

“You’ve got a chill, Sung,” you observed with a frown, taking your hand back as you prepared to get up.

“It’s normal, baby,” he reassured you, grabbing your arm to keep you from leaving. “Just uh… returning to homeostasis or whatever. I’ll be okay.”

“Alright… if you say so…” you sighed, staying put and pressing a kiss to his forehead, sneakily taking note of his temperature that way instead. “You can at least eat, right? Breakfast sound good?”

“Sure. In a minute.”

“You stay here, I’ll go make you something. Breakfast in bed. What’s better than that?”

He pretended to deliberate on this, then grabbed you with two arms around your waist, pulling you to his chest. “This.”

Tucked under his chin, you couldn’t look up to read his face, instead just staring at his t-shirt. “Really? You’re not hungry?”

“A little. But I won’t die if I don’t eat right now.”

“Are you implying that you’ll die if we don’t cuddle right now?”

“Yes,” he replied dramatically. “Absolutely. I’ll simply perish if I don’t get my Y/N time this instant.”

You couldn’t help but snicker at that, finally giving in. Not forgetting about his drop in temperature, you made sure to pull the blankets up around you two before you fully snuggled in, wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling your face into his chest.

“Alright, alright. Slow your roll on your imminent decay. I’m right here, Sung. Like I said last night, I’m not going anywhere.”

“You did say that, didn’t you?” He mused, tangling your legs together.

“Yeah, I did.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek nervously. “Uhm… How much do you remember about your shifts?”

“While I’m fully shifted? Not a lot usually. Immediately before and after? Depends. Why? Did I do something?”

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you remembered the feeling of his teeth on your neck, of him asking to bite you, to give you his mating bite. Did he remember that? Sungchan wasn’t bringing it up… Surely he’d mention it again now if he remembered, or was serious about it.

“Well, afterwards… you were kind of saying some stuff. I just didn’t know if you—”

“Hey… look at me?” Sungchan requested as he leaned back from you. When you’d picked up your head to oblige, he looked you in the eye with no hesitation, his face entirely serious now. “Of course I meant it when I said I love you. I’m sorry I said it to you for the first time looking like a hot fucking mess, and again now not in much better shape, but I mean it all the same. I love you, my Y/N. So much. So goddamn much I feel like I could explode if I don’t tell you every 5 seconds. Except you might get kind of tired of me if I did that.”

Despite it not being the words you were expecting to hear, you were beaming from ear to ear, even managing out a choked laugh through the happy tears suddenly welling up in your eyes.

“Woah, hey, I didn’t mean to make you cry with how bad my confession was,” he joked, wiping at the first tear as it slipped down your cheek.

“Oh shut it!” You chastised him. “What have I told you about being a sweetheart?”

“Own up to it or don’t do it at all,” he recited dutifully. “I’m sorry, baby. I love you, so fucking much and I’m going to explode if you don’t say it back maybe? But no pressure? Also, I love you. And no pressure to say it back right now.”

“Oh my god, Sung, I love you too,” you laughed, grabbing his face in both of your hands to pull his mouth to yours. “So fucking much.”

Dr. and Mr. Jung lived in a two-story townhouse just a couple blocks over from campus. The old bricks on the face of it were a warm red, and as you got closer, you saw that there were shimmery flecks mixed into the rogue.

“How old are these buildings?” You asked Sungchan, reaching out to touch one of the bricks around the entryway. “There’s dragon scales in the brick.”

“There’s what?” Sungchan’s eyes widened, and you pointed to a particularly large chunk, about the size of the head of a thumbtack. It reflected amber in the setting sun.

“Dragon scales. They used to be incorporated into building materials to make them more durable. You know, before integration. There’s been really big debates at like, every open-door City Hall meeting about if we should keep buildings up that have dragon scale brick in them or not, since so many dragons had to be killed to make them.”

“Oh my god.”

“So far it looks like they’re going to move towards tearing down abandoned buildings made of dragon scale brick at least.”

“How-How many dragons? Were killed?”

“We have no way to know. And the thing is, you can gather dragon scales without hurting a dragon, it’s just not going to be enough to make dragon scale brick of any usable quantity.”

“So it should’ve never been made.”

“No. It shouldn’t have.” You turned away from the wall with a shake of your head. “Anyway, that’s why I was asking how old these homes are. They’re by the university, so pretty old, I guess.”

“I have no clue. You’d have to ask my parents.” Sungchan ushered you towards the door with a hand on the small of your back.

“I don’t think I will. Not incredible meet-the-parents dinner conversation, really.”

“As much I want to say they’ll love you anyway, which they would, I do have to agree with you. Maybe save the existential horror of the materials of their home for the second dinner.” He kissed the top of your head.

“Will do.” You nodded. “Now, are you going to knock on the door, or are we going to keep standing out here like we’re casing the place?”

“Oh, sorry, you can’t hear that. My mom’s—”

And then the sound of the front door unlocking came, and you looked up at Sungchan questioningly. It was opened by a face familiar to you only from pictures.

Dr. Jung was already beaming at you. “Hello! Oh, I’m sorry if I startled you, Y/N. I was grading in my office and could hear you two coming up the steps, got a bit excited.” She gestured to the window next to the brick that you’d been discussing.

Dr. Jung was an economics professor at your university, though you’d never taken a class from her personally.

“I was about to give you a heads up,” Sungchan patted you on the back. “I heard her footsteps, that’s—”

“—why you weren’t knocking. Of course.” You nodded, then turned your focus back to Sungchan’s mother. “It’s lovely to meet you, Dr. Jung.”

“You too, Y/N.” She was still smiling ear-to-ear as she reached forward to take your hands. “You’ll have to tell me more about the history of these dragon scale bricks, I truly had no idea.”

You looked at Sungchan in alarm, and he just shrugged. But she was already leading you into the house by your hand, your boyfriend trailing behind.

“Mom, I don’t even get a hug? No hello for your own son?” Sungchan complained dramatically, closing the door behind you three.

“Well since you’re going to be a big baby about it.” A man’s voice suddenly joined in as you had emerged from the front hallway into the living room. You turned around towards the stairs to see Sungchan’s dad standing on the bottom step, still not eye level with his son even with the added height. He wrapped his arms around Sungchan with an affectionate fake growl, and your boyfriend eagerly hugged his dad back.

Mr. Jung was a middle school science teacher, and you couldn’t help but wonder if that was where Sungchan got his love for science from. He never said it specifically, but he’d told you plenty of stories of doing home science experiments with his dad as a kid.

“Hey, Dad.” He was grinning so brightly as he pulled away, then eagerly gestured to you. “Dad, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is my dad.”

“Jung Yoonseo, how are you?” The other human greeted you. But your gaze got stuck on the dip of Mr. Jung’s shoulder, where his neck met shoulder, and two-thirds of a dark bite mark were visible above the collar of his shirt.

You tore your eyes away from the mating bite to look up at his face, smiling again. “I’m good, Mr. Jung, thank you. How are you?”

“I’m very well.” He nodded to you, starting towards the connected kitchen.

“Oh, honey, Y/N was just telling me that apparently our home is made of dragon scale brick,” Dr. Jung pulled you into the kitchen as well.

Mr. Jung turned around from where he’d started peeling a vegetable to look at his wife curiously. “Sorry, you said dragon scales, Jieun?”

“Yes! Go on, Y/N. I didn’t catch much of what you were telling Sungchan, I came to get you all as soon as I heard that you’d arrived.”

You looked to Sungchan imploringly, but he just shrugged again, then mouthed something that looked like ‘go for it’ to you. So you inhaled, and went for it.

“Dr. and Mr. Jung, do you two know how old your house is?”

“I think that went pretty well,” Sungchan declared as the two of you walked down the sidewalks hand-in-hand later that evening. He had a bag filled with containers of leftovers in his other hand.

“Glad you think so. I felt like Renjun, giving people impromptu lectures at the most out-of-pocket times,” you scoffed.

“Yeah, and they loved it. My parents are big nerds like you.”

“You’re literally a STEM major.”

“Point taken.”

“So your dad wasn’t just being nice when he invited me over for tea, then?”

Your boyfriend looked down at you with wide eyes. “When did he do that?”

“When you and your mom were packing up the leftovers and he was showing me the backyard. I forgot how it came up, but I’d mentioned the boba shop, and he said if I liked tea, then I was welcome to come over for a cup anytime. Since he’s still on summer break and everything.”

Despite the smile that had creeped across his face as you spoke, you furrowed your brow suspiciously.

“What? What are you smiling for?”

He surprised you by smooching your temple loudly. “I was wrong. It didn’t go pretty well. It went great.”

“Being invited over for tea is a good sign?” You asked cautiously.

“Definitely.” He stopped the two of you on the deserted sidewalk, letting go of your hand just to immediately seize your waist, pulling you towards him. The surprised noise you were about to make got muffled by Sungchan sealing his lips over yours. You curled a hand around the back of his neck as the other gripped onto his forearm for some kind of stability as he kissed you breathless.

As he pulled back to look down at you with that same big, tender grin, you couldn’t help but let out an airy giggle.

“And what was that for?”

“I love you. And do I need a reason to kiss my amazing, beautiful girlfriend?” He punctuated each of the last three words with more kisses to your cheek this time, making you giggle again.

“Like that, in the middle of the street? Yes.” You pinched his side teasingly, earning a laugh as he squirmed away from your touch. You made sure to tack on an, “I love you too, Sung.”

“We’re not in the street, we’re on the sidewalk.”

Before you could give your retort, he’d caught your lips in another sweet kiss, and all banter was gone from your mind.

“Are you staying at my place?” Sungchan asked when you’d finally restarted your journey.

“Let’s do my place tonight, hm?” You suggested, squeezing his hand.

He tilted his head, an adorable, confused pout on his face. “Why?”

“Because I don’t have some poor roommate that we’ll be annoying.”

“Says the girl who used to specifically ask if Shotaro was going to be home before she’d agree to come over,” he snickered.

“I did that because I had a huge crush on you and you’d friendzoned me, you ass.” You elbowed him in the side teasingly. “Having Taro there made it easier to ignore the aching hole in my chest whenever I looked at you, you dick.”

You landed a gentle mock punch that was in actuality a light tap to his chest, but Sungchan was no longer laughing. He looked down at you, pensive sadness on his features.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to articulate how much I regret putting you through that. You didn’t deserve to ever feel… an aching hole, because of me.”

“Ah, Sung.” You hugged his arm to your chest, resting your head against his shoulder as you walked. “I know you would’ve never done that to me on purpose. But if we can’t laugh about it—about the uh, admittedly kind of funny scenario we put ourselves in before we started dating—then we’ll never be able to really move past it. We’re together now, and that’s what really matters.”

He sighed. “I agree. I just… I don’t think I’m past the feeling bad part yet.”

“That’s okay.” You squeezed his upper arm reassuringly. “Just don’t beat yourself up on my account. Alright?”

“Okay,” he said, and you could hear the small smile in his voice.

“So, my place?”

“I just remembered that my mom put in some leftovers for Shotaro. Kelp rolls.”

“We should probably take that to him, huh?”

“Yeah…”

“Hopefully that’ll be enough to counteract us existing around him.”

Shotaro was enthused to receive his kelp rolls, not even commenting on you staying the night as he excitedly took his food into his room.

“You want something to eat?” Sungchan asked as he put the rest of the leftovers in the fridge.

“No. I ate plenty at your parents’ house.” You shook your head. Stretching and yawning, you started towards the hallway with their bedrooms. “You make your little post-dinner snack. Feed your half-werewolf metabolism. I’m going to get ready for bed.”

“Feel free to take a sweatshirt or something.”

“Way ahead of you.”

Your boyfriend found you a few minutes later already curled up in his bed, bundled up in just one of his oversized hoodies. He scooted in next to you, encouraging you to move your head from the pillow to his lap as you went to snuggle up to his side instead.

“Whatcha eating, Sung?” You mumbled, mouth splitting into another yawn. All you could tell was that he had a bowl of some kind of finger food, as he’d brought no utensil in with him.

“Some fruit. Strawberries, honeydew, blueberries… Oh, you want a grape?”

“I’m still not entirely convinced that you’re not trying to fatten me up to eat, you know?” You said teasingly. “Like some mix of the witch from Hansel and Gretel and the big bad wolf from Little Red Riding Hood…”

“Banana slice?”

But you knew it was just his instinct to feed you, so you always indulged him to a certain extent—not so much that you felt like you were going to burst, but enough to calm his need to know that you were well-fed.

“Mm, grape.” You opened your mouth like a baby bird. He deposited the fruit on your tongue, but due to how you were laying, it landed more-so on the inside of your cheek. You had to sit up and prop yourself up on an elbow to chew and swallow properly without choking, but then promptly laid back down, nuzzling your face into his thigh.

Just a few seconds later, he asked you through a full mouth, “Baby? You want another?”

“I’m good, Sung, thank you,” you replied sweetly. “Your dad’s a really good cook, I ate a lot at dinner.”

“Yeah, he is,” he agreed proudly.

“Now finish your food so you can cuddle me to sleep.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

And less than ten minutes later, you were laid on your side, pulled flush to Sungchan’s front, your back to his chest and your legs tangled together. You had one of his arms ensnared, fingers laced loosely with his as you wrapped the limb tighter around you. His face was buried in your neck, planting absentminded kisses to your skin as you were gently floating between waking and sleep.

“I used to think you liked him, for a little bit, you know,” Sungchan murmured next to your ear, clearly a sudden blurting from his own train of thought that you weren’t privy to.

Oh, this sounded like a conversation. You squinted your eyes open blearily, turning over in his arms to face him. Throwing a leg over his to pull him closer, you offered him a sleepy smile and asked, “Who?”

He readjusted to keep holding you like that, one hand resting where the bottom of the hoodie had ridden up around your hip, settling on your thigh. His thumb and forefinger messed with the hem of the sweater, and you could see his Adam’s apple bob up and down in the dim light as he swallowed.

“Shotaro. Since you’d always ask if he was going to be at the apartment. But your heartrate never went up around him.”

You hummed in amusement, reaching out to gently pinch the tip of his nose. “Endearing that you were listening to my heartbeat to figure out if I liked your roommate.”

“But it did… go up around me sometimes. I knew that,” he confessed, his eyes locking on yours, desperate. Like he was searching, asking you for something. Absolution, penance, maybe. “And it made me happy. Even though I had told myself that I shouldn’t have you. It still… made me happy at first, but then it’d make me sad. That you hadn’t moved on. Because I thought you’d deserved to move on.”

But he’d done no sin that you needed to cleanse him of in your eyes. He was a guy who made a few mistakes and then finally made the right choice. After you smacked him upside the head with it, but nobody was perfect. The person who really needed to forgive him was himself. He was still stuck in the past, seemingly afraid that he could lose you at any moment. But he wasn’t going to, and you wished he would just believe that.

“But you got me now,” you promised, cradling his face and wishing he could feel just how much you really meant those words.

“I do.” He brought his hand up to cover your own, and you felt like you could cry. “I do got you now.”

“And I’ve got you.”

“You’ve always had me. I just hadn’t told you yet. But you’ve always had me,” Sungchan admitted with a bittersweet smile, curling his hand around yours.

You surged forward to close the minute gap between the two of you, kissing him so hard that your lips hurt. Your fingers tangled in his hair, your hands grabbed at his shoulders, his clothes, anything to pull him closer to you. He was hugging you tight to him, thank god, because it felt like you could never be close enough. Your bones ached with a need to break the laws of physics and exist in the same time and space as him, and a tiny part of you believed that if you just wanted it enough, if you tried hard enough, maybe you could.

“You know, I thought all I’d feel was relief when you and Sungchan finally got together, but instead I’m plagued by near constant nausea.”

You stopped in your tracks in the hallway. You’d been trying to quietly pee then hurry back into Sungchan’s room the next morning, but instead, you spun around to face Shotaro, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

He was standing in front of his door at the opposite end of the hall, arms crossed over his chest.

“Maybe go see a witch about that. It sounds serious,” you wrinkled your nose teasingly. Thankfully you’d had the wherewithal to pull on a pair of sleep shorts you had stashed in Sungchan’s drawers before leaving his room that morning.

“Yeah, that and my recently developed insomnia, too,” he scoffed. “Three in the morning, Y/N. Some people like to sleep, you know.”

Your skin burned as you started shuffling backwards towards Sungchan’s room. “Sorry! Bye!”

You slammed the door behind you, startling Sungchan awake.

“Huh?” He blinked sleepily, lifting his head to look around.

You launched yourself back into bed, burying your face in the pillow in shame.

“Woah, Y/N, you okay?” Sungchan’s voice was thick and deep this early in the morning, but you couldn’t even focus on that. He rubbed your back soothingly as you shook your head.

You turned your head just enough to clear your mouth to speak. “We should’ve gone to my place... No roommate...”

“Oh, Shotaro giving you a hard time?”

“‘Three in the morning, Y/N. Some people like to sleep.’” You did your best Shotaro impression. “I don’t think it was enough kelp rolls.”

“Ah, I’m-I’m sorry, baby.” Sungchan kept rubbing your back, but you could hear that he was holding back laughter.

You rolled onto your back, shooting him a glare before staring up at the ceiling. “Why do I always let you talk me into staying at your place?”

“Because you love me,” he replied in a sing-song voice, pressing a lingering kiss to your cheekbone, near your hairline.

“Yeah, but I mean, why do we always end up at your apartment, Sung? Why do you never want to come over to mine?”

The teasing dropped from his tone as he straightened up slightly. “It’s not like that, Y/N. I like spending time with you, no matter where we are. We could be in the cold vacuum of space, and I’d be fine with it as long as we were hanging out. And, in space suits so we didn’t die, you know. But, it’s just... I don’t know, I like having you here. In my space. It feels like everything’s right in the universe, like I know everything will be okay, that you’re going to be okay. As stupid as that sounds—”

“No, Sung, it’s not stupid.” You shifted to face him, brushing some hair back from his face. The same anxiety that you’d seen the night before was painted across his features again, and you didn’t like that you were seeing it more and more often. His sentiments weren’t stupid, they were loving, but the root of them concerned you. Was he constantly plagued by worries of something bad happening to you?

“Not at all...” You reiterated softly, running your thumb over the crease between his brows. “Sung? Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“I know you have class today but… can I stay here? While you’re on campus? Then we can do something together when you get back. We can go downtown or something.”

You could feel his face relax again under your touch, and he nodded with a smile.

“Yeah, of course. If you think you can handle being around Shotaro for that long. He’s off work today.”

“I’ll manage, somehow.”

When it was finally time for Sungchan to go to class, though, you encountered an issue.

“Sung, you need to go to class,” you sighed, nudging him from where he had his arms wrapped around you. You’d been lounging on the couch when it struck time for him to finally depart for campus, but you were now dealing with a clingy werewolf.

“The professor doesn’t count attendance for a grade,” he grumbled. “I can skip.”

“You literally said this morning that you had a quiz today.”

“No I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did, you liar,” you scoffed, trying to wriggle out of his grip. “And you need to go take that quiz.”

Shotaro, meanwhile, was observing the entire thing from the threshold between the living room and the hallway, a fascinating mixture of equal parts disgust and amusement on his features. You looked at him pleadingly for any kind of assistance, and he rolled his eyes, but nevertheless helped you anyway.

“Sungchan, dude, seriously,” Shotaro sighed, his tone on the border of exasperation and understanding. “Y/N’s wearing your clothes, staying in our apartment, and you haven’t let her go for I think the past four hours straight, not even to pee. You’ve scented her up enough to last the next month, a few hours will be fine.”

Your jaw set as there was a sudden spark of recognition in the back of your mind, but you couldn’t follow that train of thought in the moment. Sungchan loosened his grip on you, sitting up and blinking as if woken from a trance. “R-Right. Sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s okay, Sung,” you smiled, standing up and yanking him to his feet as well. You practically dragged him towards the front door, shoving his backpack in his hands. “Now go, you’re going to be late.”

He looked down at you with a small, fond smile as well, slinging the bag over his shoulder. “Bye, love you.”

“I love you too.” You got up on your tiptoes to give him a fleeting kiss goodbye, and he wrapped an arm around you for a hug. You were worried that this was about to be another borderline hostage situation, but he took one more inhale near your neck, then let you go and straightened up.

“Okay. See you in a few.” He said, his hand on the door handle.

“Go, Sungchan.”

“Fine, fine. Bye.”

And with that, he was finally gone. You turned back around to Shotaro, letting out a sigh of relief. The siren just chuckled, shaking his head.

“Werewolves, dude.” He flopped onto the opposite side of the couch from where you and Sungchan had just been.

You sat back down, kicking your feet up and pulling out your phone. “Yeah. Werewolves...”

Shotaro started flicking through a streaming service to try to find something to watch. “Hey wait, shouldn’t he be scenting you less since he’s a half-werewolf?”

“I... don’t know,” you admitted. “There’s not really any sort of research on half-werewolves. We don’t know anything about what they ‘should’ be like. Not even one of those unethical case studies from the 1800s.”

“Huh. But like I was saying earlier, you two make me nauseous.”

“Just put on your trashy reality TV that we know you’re going to pick after scrolling around for 30 minutes.”

“The browsing is part of the experience.”

As Shotaro browsed on the TV then eventually picked a show, you searched on your phone. The Real Sirens of Diamond Bay was great background noise as you dug through the internet, and you barely even realized the time until your friend was calling for your attention from the kitchen.

“Hm?” You looked up from the forum post that you’d been reading.

“I asked if you wanted lunch.” He opened the fridge, taking out the containers of leftovers you and your boyfriend had brought home last night. “Or if only Sungchan could feed you.”

“Yeah, sure, I could eat.” You joined him in the kitchen, stretching out your back. “So you noticed that too, huh?”

“Oh, the pre-mating behaviors? Well, you did give me a very convenient list when you were still in your denial phase.”

You punched his arm, making him nearly drop the plates he’d just gotten from the cabinet.

“Ow!” He rubbed the spot with a pout, handing you one of the dishes. “Rude... I’m feeding you food from my fridge.”

“No, I’m letting you eat my leftovers,” you corrected him. “Dr. Jung made us take all the steamed buns because she knew they were my favorite.”

Shotaro had been loading said steamed buns up onto his plate, then started shoveling the rest of them onto yours. “Calm down, I wasn’t taking them all.”

You looked at the empty container with a sigh, putting half of yours back. “Well, we can’t just leave nothing for Sung.”

After you’d made your plates with minimal bickering and warmed them up, you took them to the small dining table in the corner of the living room to eat. Shotaro continued playing the episode he’d been on for ambiance as he engaged you in conversation.

“So what were you so invested in on your phone?” He asked, cracking open a seaweed-infused sparkling tea drink popular with younger sirens. “You usually love Real Sirens.”

You popped the tab on your soda, taking a sip before answering. “I was doing some research, on what we were talking about earlier—”

“I thought you said there wasn’t a lot of research on half-werewolves.”

“Not a lot of scholarly research. But I found some people posting online about their own experiences either as half-werewolves themselves, or dating half-werewolves. About the scenting.” You explained, pausing to take a bite of your food. “And it seems like the general consensus is that most likely because their sense of smell isn’t as great as full werewolves, but they still can smell that kind of stuff, unlike humans, half-werewolves get a little more… intense with scenting behaviors.”

“Gross.”

“I meant the clothes and the hugging, dude.” You soft-balled a kick at his shin under the table. “Not my fault you’re immediately gross.”

“Does it ever stop?”

You grimaced, “Well…”

“No?” Shotaro asked with wide eyes, presumably having the rest of his recently renewed lease flashing before them.

“Again, there aren’t a lot of half-werewolves. Or at least ones talking about it. But there is one half-werewolf/human couple I found who says that the scenting took better, and the behaviors therefore decreased after…” You trailed off, messing with the strings of Sungchan’s hoodie.

“After…?”

“After they followed through with the werewolf mating bite.”

The siren stared at you blankly. “Oh.”

“They’re the only ones I could find online who has done that, so who knows if that’s a guaranteed result, not to mention that at that point they were also human married, and had been together for over five years, so there was definitely just a lot of security in their relationship not to mention they’d been living together for years so they were going to smell like each other anyway—”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it.” Shotaro stopped your defensive rambles gently. “You two don’t need to do that for me. Just wear his clothes and be annoying, it’s fine.”

You stabbed your fork into a bun. “Yeah, I know that.”

“That was some weird stressing of your words there, Y/N. Anything you want to share?”

You let out a long, steady breath, your lips just a centimeter away from being pressed together. Your mind was swirling with the memory of Sungchan’s last shift. Of him asking you to take his bite. He hadn’t mentioned it again since, but you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Especially because he hadn’t brought it up again since. And seeing his dad’s last night…

“Sungchan mentioned it once, but I don’t know how serious he was being, and he hasn’t brought it up again,” you admitted before tearing into the bun you’d just assaulted. It was filled with delightfully seasoned veggies wrapped in smooth, pillowy dough. God, these really were some of the best steamed buns you’d ever had.

Shotaro practically did a spit take with his tea, dribbling the sip he’d just taken back into the bottle. “He what? When?”

“Shotaro—”

“No, he brought up essentially werewolf engagement to you— What? While you two were playing video games or something? And neither of you mentioned this to me?”

“It wasn’t like that but... sure. I guess.”

“No, no, what was the context? Post-nut confessions or something?”

“God! Why are you like this?” You groaned, dragging a hand over your face in exasperation. “No, he let me be with him for his last shift, it was when he was coming out of it. He wasn’t all there, he was tired, he had all the extra adrenaline and everything else going through his body still.”

He didn’t seem convinced. “So I was right.”

You gave him an unamused look. “Think more like a boxer with a concussion.”

“And you haven’t brought it up with him since?”

“I was just focused on making sure he was okay. And now, I don’t know, he hasn’t mentioned it again. Maybe he wasn’t serious about it?”

“If he was... would you say yes? To be werewolf married?” The siren waggled his eyebrows at you teasingly. “Or half-werewolf married? Half-werewolf half-married?”

“They really need to make like even a single MCS class mandatory in the Gen Ed requirements, because what the hell are you saying to me right now?”

“You know what I mean. Would you say yes?”

“I… need to talk to some other people, I think.” You turned your eyes downwards as you tried to really think about it.

“That wasn’t a no! Hell yeah! I’m so going to be Sungchan’s best man!”

You rolled your eyes. “You have no clue what you’re talking about.”

As you finished up your lunch, your mind wouldn’t stop turning over what Shotaro had said. If Sungchan had been serious, would you say yes? You knew from class what the bite meant to werewolves within packs, but did it mean the same thing to Sungchan since he was half-werewolf? Did that even make a difference? Not to mention that you weren’t any part werewolf, the exchanging of bites was supposed to be an entire ritual similar to a couple exchanging rings on their wedding day. You couldn’t exactly bite him back. And the couple online was already legally married anyway…

Well, you did know one other werewolf/human couple that you could talk to, at least. You quickly texted Jeno.

[you: hey, are you home right now?]

Miraculously, he texted back almost immediately.

[jeno: yeah, just got back from a run]

[jeno: why?]

[you: mind if i come over really quick? need some advice on something with sung]

[jeno: oh sure]

[jeno: everything okay? should i have tissues out…?]

[you: omg no like werewolf stuff]

[jeno: oh good]

[you: thanks though. be over in a few]

Standing up from the couch, you stood off to the side of the TV so you didn’t block Shotaro’s show as you announced, “I’ll be right back.”

The siren gave a thumbs up in acknowledgement as his focus remained on the screen. You nodded before hurrying to pull your shoes on. The last thing to do before leaving was shoot off a text to Sungchan.

[you: hey sung, i’ve got a quick errand to run. i should be back before you get home from class, but just in case i’m not, i’ll be coming right back to the apartment! love you!]

“Hey, Jeno, thanks for having me over on such short notice.” You offered your friend a nervous smile as you stepped into his apartment.

“I’m not your professor that you’re seeing outside of his office hours, Y/N,” he chuckled, shutting the door behind you. “Don’t worry about it. What’s up? You said it’s something about Sungchan?”

“Is your girlfriend here?” You looked around the living room as the two of you sat down.

Jeno tilted his head curiously. “No, she’s at the bakery this afternoon. Did you need her too?”

“Not necessarily, it’s just...” You dropped your head into your hands, frustrated. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Try to start at the beginning?”

“Right. Sung let me be with him on the last full moon.”

“Wow. I haven’t even done that.” Jeno sounded genuinely impressed.

“Well… Uhm, do you know? About Sung?”

He stared at you blankly. “Need you to be way more specific here. I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

You tried to pick your words carefully to give him enough of a hint if he did know without outright telling him if he didn’t know. You were sure that Sungchan wouldn’t mind if Jeno knew that he was half-werewolf, but you still didn’t feel like that was your place to go around telling people. “About his parents?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah.” Your friend nodded in recognition. “Half-werewolf, that’s why he was able to have you there, duh.”

“Anyway, when he was coming back out of the shift afterwards, he mentioned us... he mentioned the werewolf mating bite.”

His eyes widened as he took a short inhale before slowly starting with, “Well, I can tell that you two haven’t done that.”

“I figured. So, with Sung being half-werewolf, he’s been having a difficult time with the scenting. I think because he can smell it enough to notice it, but not as strongly as full werewolves...”

“He would have a higher threshold for scenting in order to register it, right. Hence your current attire, I’m guessing?” Jeno gestured to the large black leather jacket you were currently drowning in, which was much too hot for the sweltering summer heat that was still going on outside, but still a better option than the hoodie you had previously been in.

You gave a resigned, what-can-you-do smile. “Yeah. And he’s not going to say anything about it, but I know he’s going to be stressed when I see him after this and he can smell you and Jaemin.”

“Oh, definitely.” He snorted lightly, not judgmental, but more sympathetic. “Let me guess: he gets all needy and clingy? Likes to bury his face in your neck?”

“Exactly. And the cuddles would be nice but, I don’t know... I hate seeing him like this, you know? So... anxious. It’s not like him.” You sighed, beginning to feel more guilty the longer you stayed here and got wrapped up in the smells of other people.

“It’s the first time in his life the wolf side is in charge of him and not the other way around. He’s really understanding what it’s like being a full werewolf outside of the full moon, of course he’s not having a good time.”

“Is it like that for you? With her?”

“Kind of. I can smell everything better, so I can smell the subtler things. Without going into too much detail, all those instincts aren’t on edge for me as much as Sungchan’s are right now. And we also figured something else out.”

“Something else?” You asked curiously. Last time you saw Jeno’s girlfriend, you couldn’t remember her having a bite mark. But maybe there was something that hadn’t been covered in your classes. After all, several millennia of the cultures, histories, and customs of fourteen species just couldn’t be fit into one undergrad degree. Your bachelor’s was nothing more than a survey of the two fields, to give you the broad strokes and the tools to start wading in.

Jeno pulled on a leather cord that you hadn’t even noticed was hanging around his neck, bringing a pendant out from under his collar. It was a pale white stone, flat, the size of a coin, with opalescent flecks that caught the light as he showed it to you.

“Moonstone. We have matching ones. They’re even enchanted so that when I…” he wrapped his whole hand around the stone “…hold onto it a little tighter, it reacts, and she can feel hers warm up too. So she knows I’m thinking about her.”

“And it helps with your shifts. That’s really sweet, Jeno,” you said, watching as he tucked it back under his shirt, presumably to keep it in skin-to-skin contact so he could feel if she squeezed her gem back in response.

“But that’s what works for us. It needs to be whatever works for you guys.”

You looked down at your fingers nervously. “But you two haven’t even…”

“I haven’t bit her?” The werewolf said bluntly.

“Yeah, and you’ve been together for a lot longer than us.”

“We’re not you and Sungchan. We may have set you guys up, but we’re not you.”

“You set us up? What?” That little off-hand comment had stolen your focus for the moment.

Jeno’s brow furrowed. “Did you never get the full story of how you got sent on that first blind date with him?”

“I mean, Jaemin had shown me a picture of him from your Instagram account, and I knew that you two knew each other through your girlfriend. But no, I guess I never did get the whole story. Jaemin said something about a deal, I think…”

His wide eyes and ‘oh shit’ face said it all. With a wince, he sighed, “I don’t know if I should be the one to tell you this…”

“What? Jeno, come on,” you pleaded, clasping your hands together in front of you like you were kneeling at an altar.

“Ah, fine, fine.” He gave in easily, regret immediately coming to his features as you perked up, eager to hear the story. “We were all playing soccer one day and her—” he jerked his thumb at the empty space on the couch beside him that the both of you had both been vaguely referring to whenever you mentioned his girlfriend. “—and Sungchan made this bet. You see, something had happened at the park that day. There was another werewolf there, and he called my girlfriend something nasty. And Sungchan was saying that because of stuff like that, he wanted to just stick with dating other werewolves. He also kept saying something about love making my brain rot. It made sense in context. Sort of.”

You raised an eyebrow, but didn’t interrupt Jeno for fear that you’d get him off-track and lose your opportunity.

“Anyway, they made a bet that if she was on Sungchan’s team and did her best in the game against me, then Sungchan would let her set him up on one blind date with anybody, werewolf or not. And he wasn’t allowed to intentionally bomb it, he had to actually put in a genuine effort.”

“And I was that date…” You surmised, several pieces falling into place. Specifically, Jaemin and Donghyuck’s initial pitch of Sungchan to you.

“Jaemin suggested you, and we thought the two of you would be a good fit.”

You added humorously, “And I’m not a werewolf.”

“Well, yeah.” Jeno ducked his head sheepishly like he was a puppy that was afraid you were going to notice the shoes that he had chewed up behind him. “But we really did put a lot of thought into it, I swear. And then when we heard he made you walk out in ten minutes, we were actually going to make him go on another one because we thought that he had sabotaged his one with you.”

“Amazingly, no, I think that really was his best effort at the time.” You snickered.

“Now I feel like I have to apologize for subjecting you to him.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Anyway, he said he didn’t want to go on another date, he had to fix things with you first. She let up on him after that. Apparently believed his mind had been changed.”

“I don’t know how a ten-minute conversation where he practically accused me of being a werewolf fetishist for dating two werewolves, and I asked about his major and told him about my cheating ex could’ve possibly changed his mind but— Hey, look how far we’ve come.”

“And now you know the story of how you two ended up on that ten-minute, awful, terrible blind date that I almost wish we didn’t send you on now that I’ve heard what happened on it.”

“I’ve had worse dates.”

“But like I was saying. We—” he pointed between himself and the empty space proxy of his girlfriend “—are not you two. Just like in human relationships, the big steps happen at different times for everyone, there isn’t one right answer to when a werewolf couple take on each other’s bites. There’s even less of a blueprint for werewolf-human couples. So as far as I’m concerned, you and Sungchan? A half-werewolf and human couple? You two do whatever the hell you want. You’re unprecedented.”

“Unprecedented…” You repeated to yourself, drumming your fingers along your knee.

You and Jeno chatted for a few more minutes about this and that, but you soon decided that you’d have to be going. Sungchan had texted you the full sequence of finishing class, leaving campus, and arriving home while you’d been talking, and there was a pinch at your heart as you could imagine him getting more anxious with each passing minute that you weren’t there. And then there were the smells that you were going to have to deal with once you did return, too.

As Jeno walked you to the front door, your eyes drifted over to the kitchen, an idea popping into your head.

“Hey, Jeno? Can I have a glass of water?”

“Sung?” You called out into the seemingly empty apartment as you turned to close and lock the front door up. “I’m— oof!”

You were knocked off kilter by 186cm of werewolf, barely catching yourself against the door on your forearms to avoid bonking your forehead into it. Sungchan had his arms wrapped around your waist, already nosing around your hair and neck.

“Hi…” Sungchan said against your cheek, his tone apologetic. He got too excited, he didn’t mean to almost KO you like that.

Slowly, you reached over to finish flicking the deadbolt into the locked position. Then, you blindly stretched a hand back to pat him on the head. “Hey, hey.” You kept your voice calm and soothing.

He was getting down to the collar of the shirt you were wearing—one of his t-shirts, and you could feel him shifting to hold you tighter. He’d definitely noticed something was off.

“You know, I’m really sorry, Sung,” you began, turning your tone mournful and looking down at the wet patch on the front of your shirt. “I know this is your shirt, I feel really bad about this, but I spilled water on myself while I was out. Do you think I can throw this one in your wash here and borrow a new one?”

He immediately perked up at this, “Yeah, of course!”

You smiled. “Thanks.”

Success.

After your dinner and night out together in downtown, you ended up back in Sungchan’s room, fitted in your new crewneck sweater—this one for a concert he’d gone to last year. You were reclined between his legs against his chest as you half-watched him game, half-scrolled on your phone, and half-snoozed. You’d been playing the game in multi-player mode with him earlier but put your controller aside some time ago when you’d let out a couple loud yawns. Ruminating thoughts of your conversation with Jeno had kept you from fully falling asleep, though.

“Sung?” You waited for a pause on a loading screen to call for his attention.

“Mm?” He hummed back to let you know he was listening, even as the new map loaded in. He hadn’t moved his character yet, fingers frozen as they hovered over the buttons.

“Can we talk for a second?”

“Of course.” Your boyfriend quickly saved and exited the game, setting the controller beside yours on the nightstand.

He wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you tighter to him, resting his chin on your shoulder as he waited attentively for you to start with whatever you needed to talk about. You could hear him take a pause to sniff the air around you, and a small, disgruntled sound came from the back of his throat almost immediately.

“Face-to-face?” You requested quietly.

“Right, sorry.”

He loosened his arms, reluctantly letting them fall from around you.

Pushing yourself up off his legs into a full sitting position, you turned around in place, still finding yourself between his thighs. He straightened up a little bit from his spot against the headboard.

You reached out to take his hands in yours. “This is something that really stresses you out, isn’t it? The smells?”

“It’s… I can’t put my finger on it. It’s like…” He took one of his hands back to run his fingers through his hair, and your chest hurt to see the distress on his features. “Imagine being able to constantly see something right in the corner of your eye, but when you turn your head, you can’t actually look at it. You know it’s there, but you can never actually get a proper look. Humans never know it’s there, and werewolves get to look at it head-on. But I don’t get either. It’s terrible.”

“Ah, Sung… That sounds awful, baby.” You grimaced sympathetically, unable to imagine how wound up and panicky he must be all the time. You just wanted to cut this conversation short right now to wrap your arms around him, rub his back and tell him you were never going to leave him again. But for right now, all you could do was squeeze his hand tighter, and hope he got the message.

“I know that sometimes you smell right and sometimes you don’t. But I don’t know why, usually. And it’s not like you smell bad like you need a shower or anything. But like… ah, I can’t describe it.” He groaned, rubbing his face. “I don’t even know what I’m smelling all the time. But it’s just—”

“Not right. I get it, that made sense. And it’s better when I wear your clothes, or spend time with you? Here?”

“I’m sorry…” He said weakly.

“Woah, hey, where in there was I asking for an apology? I’m trying to figure this out together, okay? Not make you feel bad for being unable to turn your nose off. I don’t like that you’re this stressed all the time, you know?”

“In my normal, thinking brain I know you should—and I want you to—be able to wear whatever clothes you want to wear. And I’m glad that you’re spending time with your friends, and I want to go wherever you want to go, whether that’s out somewhere, or to your place. I loved our date night out tonight. It’s not those actual things that bother me at all, it’s just that you smell different.”

“I know, I know.” You reassured him, continuing to hold his hand and gently rubbing his forearm with your free hand. “So maybe there’s something more permanent we can do to help you with the smells?”

Sungchan met your gaze uncertainly. “Permanent?”

“You mentioned it after your last shift. Me taking your bite. I found one other half-werewolf/human couple who did it, online, and they said it helped with the scent anxiety.”

“Y/N…” He breathed your name out.

“I understand if you’re not ready for it. I know it’s a really big step for werewolves. But I had to put it out there, if there’s any possibility that it’ll help.”

“This is not how I imagined this conversation going at all.”

“What?”

“The human reassuring the werewolf that it’s okay if the werewolf isn’t ready for a mating bite yet.” He laughed, throwing his head back. “Oh my god. We really are one-of-a-kind, huh?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle too. “When you put it like that, that is pretty funny. You thought you were going to have to convince me, huh?”

“I wasn’t going to badger you into it if you didn’t want it, that’s for sure. But I mean, I didn’t bring it up again after my last shift because I wanted to do it more… I don’t know, romantically than being a sweaty, exhausted, slurring mess in your lap. I just hadn’t figured out how to do that yet because I’ve been too focused on spending every spare second I can with you.”

“I thought you were a very cute sweaty, exhausted, slurring mess when you asked me last time,” you giggled.

“Right, thanks.”

“So, do you want to do it, then?”

“Aren’t I supposed to be asking you that?”

Jeno’s words came back to you: You two do whatever the hell you want. You’re unprecedented.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to be doing anything any specific way, Sung. We just do it. But if you want to ask me, go for it.” You smiled at him encouragingly. After a few beats of silence, though, you pinched his thigh teasingly, “I’m waiting.”

“What—Right now? Really putting me on the spot.” Sungchan rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“Well when else—”

“No, I’ve got it.” He squared his shoulders, face turning serious as he turned his eyes to you. Briefly kissing the back of your fingers first, he began, his voice much shakier than you had expected, “Y/N, I’m ready to give you my mating bite, if you will accept it. But I don’t want it to just be me biting you. I-I want you to do whatever you need to do to make it feel complete to you, too. Since you can’t give me one back. If that’s okay with you?”

Despite you (mostly) knowing what was coming, you still unexpectedly found yourself tearing up as you went to nod your head yes. “Of course, Sung. That’d be perfect, yes. You’ll have to give me some time to figure it out, but yes, I love that.”

“I love you.”

You stood up on your knees to wrap your arms around his neck, giving him a quick kiss before burying your face in his collar. “I love you, too.”

Sungchan hugged you back tightly, pulling you back with him into almost the same position as before, with you against his chest. He pressed kisses to any part of you that he could access, your cheek, your jaw, your neck, your ear. You turned your head enough so that the next one he could plant on your lips, a sweet, loving kiss.

“Ah…” He sighed, his eyes squeezed shut, a bright smile on his face.

“What?” You traced over the smile lines at the corner of his eye.

He was almost nose-to-nose with you when his beautiful brown eyes were open again. Looking at you, he admitted freely, “I’m just… so happy.”

“Me too.” You beamed.

“And I can’t believe I almost let myself miss out on this, on you, so many times.”

“Let’s see… the night we actually got together.” You teased, ticking the instances off on your fingers.

“Mm-hm.” A pink flush was starting to creep up Sungchan’s neck.

“Valentine’s Day at the boba shop. Which you owe me emotional damages for, by the way.”

“Yeah. Sorry…” The pink had overtaken his neck and was starting to flush his cheeks.

“Our first date.”

Completely red-faced, he nodded and sighed. “Like I said, I’m just happy that—”

“Oh, and the bet.”

“Huh?” He was entirely frozen, staring at you with wide, unblinking eyes.

“I saw Jeno today,” you stated.

“Yes, I did smell him when you came home.”

“I finally got the full story of how you ended up on our blind date, Sung.”

“Listen, I am a proud member of the Love-Rotten Brains Club now.” He tightened his arms around you and nuzzled his nose along your cheek and neck as he spoke, making his lips brush over your skin in ghosts of kisses. “I’m the president and the whole board and the social media intern and whatever else. Never have I ever been more proud of being wrong. I’ll say it every day for the rest of our lives.”

“Ah!” You squirmed and laughed as he was over a ticklish spot. “Alright, you don’t have to do that. But I’m glad they pushed you out of your comfort zone.”

Sungchan let up, allowing you to simply rest your head in the crook of his neck.

“To my credit, I was the one who offered the terms of that bet in the first place.”

“Really? You had to know that they were definitely going to set you up with someone who was not a werewolf, right?”

“I knew. I figured I could make polite small talk for an hour and be done with my end.”

You couldn’t help but laugh loudly, from the gut. “Oh, baby, if polite small talk was your goal, then you failed miserably.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” he said remorsefully.

“Now, I’ve got to know.” You poked his chest pointedly. “Everyone seems convinced that you were like, in love with me and a changed man from that one plane crash of a conversation. Shotaro says that you kept walking around talking about how you wanted to apologize to me for weeks after. Jeno and his girlfriend didn’t set you up on another date despite you not really holding up your end because she was content that you had changed your mind. So?”

Sungchan’s chest rose and fell under you with a deep breath, and he took a pause as if piecing together his thoughts before responding. “Even if we didn’t end up meeting again, I think that date with you was always going to be an important lesson for me, about getting my head out of my ass. I’m just glad I got to take what I learned back to you and apologize and show you that. Like, yeah, our first date was only a few minutes, but I kind of hate to admit that I thought about it for weeks afterwards, because that sounds like weirdo behavior. I mean, literally until the night we saw each other at the boba place. It’s not that it was even romantic at that point, it was more guilt than anything else. I knew I was in the wrong, and I felt awful that I might not be able to tell you that I knew that.”

“I’m glad you found me again at the boba shop. Not a lot of guys would’ve had the guts to actually apologize. Probably would’ve grabbed their drink and ran. Or ran as soon as they saw me and not even ordered.”

“I just wish I had the guts to actually ask you out that night.”

“Me too. But I’m not entirely blameless either. The start of our relationship isn’t a weight that falls solely on your shoulders just because you’re the guy, or the werewolf, or whatever.” You shrugged. “And we figured it out eventually anyway.”

“Yeah, we did.” Sungchan pressed a kiss to your forehead.

Stopping in front of a familiar red brick townhouse, you ran up the couple short steps to knock on the front door before you could psych yourself out. You and Sungchan had decided to go through with the mating bite after the next full moon in one week, which was a couple days after the end of the summer semester. It gave him time to focus on his finals, and fell in the two-week break between the summer semester ending and the fall semester starting. This was going to be your last year as undergraduates, both you and Sungchan were graduating in the spring. You could hardly believe that you only had two more semesters left of your bachelor’s degree. And then you had grad school.

But right now, you had this: The front door being opened to reveal Mr. Jung to you, a smile immediately crossing his face as he recognized you. Even behind the glasses perched on his nose, you could easily see Sungchan in his features.

“Hi, Mr. Jung,” you greeted him politely.

“Oh, hey, Y/N.” He tucked the pen that was in his hand behind his ear. “Here to see Jieun?”

“Uh, no. Sorry to just drop in, but I wanted to talk to you about something, actually. Do you have time for some tea?”

He backed up, waving you in. “Sure, of course. Come on in.”

“Thank you.” You walked in with a grateful head dip, taking your denim Jasmine & Pearls baseball cap off as you passed over the threshold of the front door.

“Sungchan’s got a hat just like that,” Mr. Jung commented, leading you further into the home. “Or is that one his?”

“Oh, we actually won them in a game at the boba shop that Shotaro works at. We each have our own.” You looked over the purple embroidered logo fondly. “It’s kind of how we met. The second time.”

“Right, the boba tea place that Shotaro works at…” He echoed, recognition in his tone.

You followed Mr. Jung upstairs, which you didn’t get to see the last time you’d been over for dinner. He led you into a room with wallpaper depicting cartoon spaceships, planets, moons, and stars. The ceiling was covered in glow in the dark stars, and even the curtains were embroidered with star maps. The furniture itself was set up to be an adult’s home office, though, despite the shell having clearly been a child’s bedroom. There were still some shelves on the wall with trophies from science fairs and sports teams.

“Sorry, Jieun doesn’t drink tea, and the electric kettle in the kitchen is busted.” Mr. Jung half-explained why he’d brought you in here, another electric kettle in his hand. “Give me a second, I need to fill this up.”

“Of course,” you nodded, not entirely paying attention to what he was saying. Truly, you were still looking around at what was obviously Sungchan’s childhood bedroom.

Any kids’ furniture was gone and replaced with a desk, laptop, two chairs, and a printer. But you didn’t mind, as you leaned in to read the little engravings on his science fair trophies, and from his soccer teams, and baseball teams, and spelling bees, and mathletes competitions—god, you were dating a mathlete? He’d failed to mention that. There was a picture that looked like it was from a field trip from primary school, of his whole class in front of a space shuttle at the closest space and natural history museum. You squinted your eyes as you studied the picture, trying to figure out which one was your boyfriend.

“Sungchan’s the really tall one that you probably thought was a teacher’s helper,” Mr. Jung said humorously, announcing his return.

You turned around, the picture still in your hand, and your eyes immediately landed on the child he was referring to. Gangly, awkward, nearly a head taller than the rest of the kids, but still smiling so brightly—his crooked smile gap-toothed at that moment in time—because he was just so, so excited to be there.

“Ah, yep. There he is,” you smiled fondly, setting the picture back down.

“He gets his height from Jieun’s father. In case you were curious.”

Mr. Jung set the kettle back on its stand on the desk and started heating it up. He cleared a huge stack of papers off a second chair that was next to the desk, then gestured for you to sit. You did so, watching him take down a couple mugs from the shelves over his desk, and pull open the top drawer to root around in it.

“Jasmine?” He asked.

“That sounds lovely, thank you.”

He took out one tin, right as the kettle made a small ding to let him know the water was ready. Mr. Jung poured the water into both mugs first, then took out a couple small, empty pouches. He measured out the loose jasmine tea into each before sealing them and dropping them in the water.

“I figured you would’ve wanted to talk to Jieun about the bite,” he said as he handed you your cup. “Also, let me know if you want some honey for that.”

“I’m good on the honey, thanks,” you smiled awkwardly. “So he told you already.”

The other human eased himself down into the office chair in front of you. “Yes, Sungchan’s been keeping us appraised. He was nervous to tell us at first, since you two haven’t been together very long.”

“Well, yes—”

“It’s okay, Y/N. It’s a decision for you and Sungchan to make, not his parents.”

That put you at ease again. “Thank you.”

“And it did make Jieun laugh when she heard that you were the one who did the mating bite talk with him. She likes you a lot. We both do.”

“Oh, thanks…”

“So why did you want to see me? I’m always happy to have some tea with you, but it sounded like you came with a purpose.”

“I wanted to ask about what it’s like? Taking a werewolf’s mating bite as a human?” You plunged into the conversation head-first. “The only other werewolf/human couple we know hasn’t done it, so I don’t really have a point of reference. Like, in class, I’ve learned about the sociocultural importance of it within werewolf packs for mated werewolf couples, but… Sung and I are a bit different, you know?”

Mr. Jung nodded thoughtfully. “I can tell you what my personal experience is, sure. It may be different for you since Sungchan is half-werewolf.”

“Right, of course.” You sat forward, interested. Blowing over your tea, you took your first sip, the lightness of the jasmine dancing across your tongue.

“The biting itself hurts at first. If we were werewolves, my understanding is that it’s nearly painless since their bodies are prepared for it. Humans, not so much.” He rubbed at his mark absentmindedly. “So it will hurt, which I’m sure my son will feel awful about. The shoulder will be a little sore for maybe half an hour or so after, but he won’t even draw blood. And it heals very fast, too. Then you’ll be left with the mark. Werewolves who receive bites have something happen biologically in them with pheromones or something. Again, we don’t have that going on. But that doesn’t mean that it won’t be meaningful for you at all. That meaning will just manifest differently, I’m sure.”

“Thank you, Mr. Jung. That was really informative.” You took another drink of your tea.

“Of course. And you know that it’s not a one and done, right?” He warned.

You let out a half-chuckle. “I do know that, yes.”

“Again, I don’t know how much it’ll vary since Sungchan is half-human, but the bite will need to be refreshed more often than if you were both werewolves. My guess would be even more frequently than if he were a full werewolf, but that’s just purely speculation.”

“That would make sense. Thanks for the heads up.” You said, watching the metal of his wedding band glint as he lifted his mug to his mouth. “Can I ask… when did you take your wife’s bite?”

Mr. Jung sighed, a bittersweet sort of smile coming to his face. “It was before we were married. We’d been dating for some time at that point, a couple years. When we first got together, there were some… vocally unhappy members of her pack, but they did quiet down after a while. However, I think they hadn’t expected us to last so long, or that Jieun was just going through a phase or something. After a while they started pressuring Jieun to break up with me and date within her pack— or at least another werewolf. We’d discussed the bite once or twice before, and she thought that if I took it on, it would make everyone leave us alone; that we’d look like any other mated pair of werewolves. It ended up doing the opposite. It was way too far in the eyes of Jieun’s pack. I already knew at that point that I was going to spend the rest of my life with her, so from there we eloped, settled down here, eventually had Sungchan a few years later.”

“And you all… have you spoken to her pack again since?”

“No. Unfortunately Sungchan has never been able to meet his family on that side. I suggested it to Jieun when she was pregnant, but she looked me in the eye and asked me if her pack reacted that way just to us being together, then could I imagine what sort of awful things they might think of our child? And would I want to put our baby through that just for some romanticized idea of family? I never brought it up again.”

“What about your family?”

There was no more bitterness in his smile anymore, just pure love and fondness. “They’ve been incredible. Never looked at Jieun or Sungchan as anything other than family. I know Sungchan would probably rather have the pack but—”

“What do you mean?” You couldn’t help but blurt out, furrowing your brow in confusion.

“I know he doesn’t tell people he’s half-human. And really, it’s alright. I get it, being a human isn’t anything to brag about.” Mr. Jung sounded like he really had come to terms with that, that his son would rather not tell people about his dad, about where he came from. Which wasn’t even true.

“That’s not why he tells people he’s only a werewolf. He’s not ashamed of you, or of what he is, on either side. He loves you, a lot. He does that because if he tells people that he’s half-human half-werewolf up front, they take it as a free pass to ask him weird questions.”

The man’s face relaxed, and he nodded his head in acknowledgement. “I never realized that. Thank you, Y/N.”

“And I mean, you didn’t need me to tell you that. Just look around you. It’s not like he’s exactly got wallpaper of spreadsheets and supply/demand graphs in here, right?”

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth at that. “You’re right. It’s… comforting, though, to have outside confirmation.”

“I know, I get it.”

Mr. Jung gazed past you, out the window behind your head wistfully, taking another sip of his tea. “Growing up how he did… we—Jieun and I—were worried about him for a while, you know.”

“Worried how?”

“Well, that he’d spend so much time trying to protect himself from what our life was like, that he wouldn’t actually be looking for what he wanted.” Mr. Jung’s eyes focused back on yours then, and he smiled at you. “But as soon as he brought you home, we knew we could rest easy.”

“Because I’m human?”

“No, no,” he shook his head, lifting his mug to take another relaxed sip of his tea. “We would’ve loved you if you were human, werewolf, fairy, dragon, anything.”

“I’m sorry but… I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“When he was in high school… he and his mom used to get into fights. Teenager hormones, half-werewolf teenager hormones… it was a lot. I know the fact that he was the only half-werewolf at his school, and the only werewolf not in a pack, too, didn’t help either. A lot of it was Sungchan not understanding his mother’s choices, either about leaving her pack, or dating a human in the first place, or not going back to the pack, or whatever else he decided she’d done wrong that day. He’d pretty much always declare that he’d make the ‘better choice.’” Mr. Jung put air-quotes around the last two words. “You know, have a werewolf partner so that his family wouldn’t get harassed, join his future partner’s pack, things like that. Sungchan mellowed out a bit more after he started college, and they started properly getting along again once he moved out last year.”

That mostly lined up with what Jeno had told you about his conversation with Sungchan at the park, his previous policy to only date other werewolves. You frowned thoughtfully, taking a long, slow drink of tea.

“Seeing how Sungchan is with you… he’s not hiding from anything,” he finished fondly.

“I’m sorry I was so dismissive before, Mr. Jung,” you finally said, your voice quiet and contemplative. “When you were talking about Sungchan not telling people he’s half-human. I jumped in completely forgetting that you’ve known him for his whole life… and there could’ve been a lot more reasons why you would’ve thought he was ashamed to be human.”

“Hey, Y/N.” Mr. Jung put his tea down on the desk, perching on the front of his seat to gently place a hand on your forearm. “It’s okay, really. For one, I know you meant well. And two, we know Sungchan very differently. Obviously, yes, I’ve known him his whole life, but you were lucky enough to meet him now, when he has some stuff already kind of figured out. And I’m very glad you did. Because trust me, you should not have met Sungchan in high school. I love my son, I’ve always loved him, but I definitely do not think that if you two had met in high school, you and I would be sharing a cup of tea right now.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at that, thinking not only of the high school version of Sungchan that had just been recollected to you by Mr. Jung, but also of yourself in high school, who honestly wasn’t any more put together. “Yeah… I don’t talk to any of my high school boyfriends anymore. Saw one of their moms at the grocery store last week actually, and she still recognized me, gave me a nasty look, and blocked the aisle with her shopping cart so I couldn’t get by her. I dated her son almost five years ago now, I think?”

The other human laughed, giving your arm a couple pats before taking his hand away and reclining back in his desk chair again. “Not to mention, if we both had known him his entire life, then I wouldn’t get to tell you any of the fun stories about him as a kid. Has he told you he was a mathlete?”

“No, he hasn’t.”

“Team captain junior and senior year. They were semi-finalists both years he was captain and even won the State series his senior year.”

“Did he have like a little dweebus uniform or something?”

“Polo shirt, khaki cargo shorts, the whole nine.”

“Please tell me you have pictures.”

“Oh yeah, him and Shotaro.”

“Taro too?!”

[you: attached image]

[taro: HOW DID YOU GET THOSE?????????]

[taro: WHAT THE HELL I MADE SUNGCHAN PROMISE ME THOSE WOULD NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY AGAIN]

[you: did you make Mr. Jung promise you though?]

[taro: does sungchan know that you’re getting blackmail material from your new bestie, HIS DAD??]

[you: what do you mean blackmail material?? personally, i think you look SO cute in those pictures in your little mathletes uniform]

[you: i didn’t even know sirens could need glasses and braces]

[you: wait does this mean you wear contacts??? i feel like it’s illegal to know this]

[taro: it is, now i have to kill you]

[you: ooooohh, wait till i tell sung]

[taro: not if i drown you first]

[you: you can’t kill me, i know where Mr. Jung keeps the mathletes photos]

[taro: damn it]

[you: and the ones from your first school dance]

[taro: DOES THIS MAN JUST HAVE A SHOEBOX LABELED “OSAKI SHOTARO BLACKMAIL MATERIAL” OR SOMETHING WHAT THE FUCK]

[you: no it’s labeled “jung sungchan blackmail material” actually but you just happen to be in a lot of the pictures too]

[taro: wait for real?]

[you: no, dumbass, he’s sungchan’s dad, of course he’s going to have a lot of old photos of his son and by extension, his son’s friends]

[taro: don’t get a guy’s hopes up like that, damn]

[taro: alright come on, let me see the bad pics you got of sungchan now]

[you: noooo, they’re not bad, they’re actually really cute 🥹🥹]

[you: attached images(+5)]

[you: like just LOOK at my little guy 🥹 he was so little and cute]

[taro: the FUCK are you talking about]

[taro: he’s clearly like 20cm taller than me and everyone else INCLUDING THE TEACHER SPONSOR]

[you: yeah, and he’s JUST a little guy, so little and cute]

[you: i wouldn’t expect you to get it, taro…………sigh]

[taro: attached image]

[taro: THIS IS YOUR MANS????]

[you: WELL WHEN YOU ZOOM IN ON ANYBODY’S FACE LIKE THAT OF COURSE IT’LL LOOK A BIT OFF]

[taro: the favoritism is so real right now]

[you: i’m so tired of your dramatic ass like what fucking “favoritism” 😭😭 of course i like sung better he’s my boyfriend]

[taro: and??]

[you: you’re not??? the fuck you mean “and??”]

[taro: and i think a good friend should be fair and impartial]

[you: i came here to name and shame you to your face, not to be fair and impartial i don’t know how you could’ve been under any other impression]

[taro: i’m so telling sungchan about this]

[you: don’t forget to leave in the part where i called him cute and you intentionally manipulated a picture of him to make him look worse]

[taro: i regret ever setting you two up]

[you: actually jeno and them did it first]

[taro: and i should’ve left you two crashed and burned and SINGLE where i found you]

[you: love you taro 🫶]

[taro: nice try demon that lives in my apartment and doesn’t pay rent 🫶🫶🫶]

[you: SUNGCHAN DOESN’T LET ME WHEN I TRY TO CHIP IN FOR HOW MUCH I’M OVER THERE I SWEAR]

[taro: i figured, which is why i don’t let him pay more than his half either]

[you: then why are you being mean to me about it 🥺]

[taro: do you feel bad enough that you’ll delete those mathlete photos off your phone now?]

[you: nice try demon that i’m never paying rent to 🫶🫶🫶]

Pushing open the door to the next shop on this street, you were pleasantly surprised by the calm, quaint atmosphere that you were greeted by. The bright red and gold pillars outside of the toy and watch shop had suggested otherwise, but inside of it were a few display cases filled with watches and other pieces of jewelry, while the other half of the shop had shelves upon shelves of toys. Every item in the store seemed handmade, and even to your untrained eye, you could tell that several had magical properties. A girl about your age was behind one of the watch and jewelry counters towards the front of the store, which also had the register on it. She was fiddling with an open watch, and you watched as she readjusted the light of the lamp above her with just a flick of her wrist—not touching a single button or switch on the device. All the jewelry and other accessories she was wearing already made you think she might’ve been a witch, but that just locked it in for you.

Some music played throughout the store, though you couldn’t quite tell where it was coming from, as there were no visible speakers on the ceiling or elsewhere. Briefly dragging your eyes over the display cases as you strolled up towards the employee, you spotted quite a few watches, of course, as well as necklaces, rings, earrings, and small trinkets. But nothing that quite stuck out to you as what you were looking for.

The witch perked up as you came to a stop in front of her, setting her tiny tools down on the small rag alongside the watch pieces. “Hi! Welcome in. Is there something I can help you with?”

“This is a magical kind of shop, right?” You asked curiously. Apothecaries usually stuck out as such, but having a witch and a couple things that glowed didn’t guarantee anything.

“Yep! This place is ran by my coven!” She told you proudly. “We make everything in here by hand in the back, fine tune the mechanics and the magic ourselves. Are you looking for any particular kind of magic thing?”

“Yes, well, sort of…” You trailed off sheepishly. “I’m kind of gift shopping right now.”

“What’s the occasion?”

After a split-second internal debate, you figured this witch had probably dealt with weirder, and you would definitely need her insight and experience when it came to the magical properties of all of the options in front of you.

“My boyfriend is giving me his mating bite in a few days, but I don’t want to show up empty-handed, you know?” You scratched at the back of your neck. “Like, it’s not an engagement-level thing for us, but it’s still big, and I want to be able to give him something too…”

She didn’t seem thrown off in the slightest, instead seeming to ponder this for a moment, tapping her chin, before her features lit up, and she slid over to the other end of the display case. You followed her down.

“Now, I’m guessing you already know about moonstone—” She explained, pulling out a small display of rings. “Helps their shifts.”

You nodded as you looked over the many rings inlaid with opalescent stones like the one on Jeno’s necklace. “Yeah. And, I mean, his aren’t that bad. Just sort of… disorienting and confusing. Though I hate how sickly he gets the day or so after.”

The witch gave you an intrigued look. “He’s… half-werewolf?”

Darting your eyes back up to her, you wondered which part of what you just said had given it away. The less intense shift? The ‘sickly’ bit?

“And half-human?” She took your silence as an apparent cue to finish her guess.

You slowly nodded.

Immediately, the rings were whisked away from under your nose. She was practically alight with excitement as she flitted over to a completely different display case, grabbing just one singular piece from there and bringing it back over to you. It was another ring, a thick silver band of one width, with no obvious gem settings or other such features.

“So, you wouldn’t really be worried about the shift itself, then. Or, at least not the pain part, which is really what the moonstone helps werewolves with. Easing the transition into and during the shift.” The employee rambled enthusiastically. “The symptoms that he really has a problem with are about getting back into balance after. Since he’s half-human, his body has to work a lot harder to return to homeostasis after an ordeal like a werewolf shift.”

“He’s said something about that before. Homeostasis.”

“Then what you really want is something like this—” She offered the ring out for you to take, depositing it onto your palm. You curiously looked it over closer. “Instead of moonstone, like most things designed for werewolves, this has concentrated moonflower essence in the chamber that makes up most of the band.”

You tilted the ring and could in fact see a small amount of mostly clear, but shimmery iridescent cobalt blue liquid shift around in the light. The container that held the liquid must have been incredibly thin to fit along the ring whilst adding negligible bulk.

Moonflower was of course familiar to you from Magical Botany Club. While the plant itself wasn’t magical, it had a slew of magical applications, and could be distilled down to a magical essence. Much like moonstone, which also wasn’t in and of itself magical, it had an effect on magical beings that were also tied to the moon, most notably, werewolves. Moonflower paste was a common ingredient in traditional werewolf medicine, and even in modern pharmaceuticals, many medications with different formulations for werewolves—or formulated to treat diseases that only werewolves got—often had ingredients derived from the moonflower. In addition to healing properties, the smell tended to have a calming effect on them as well, both in and out of their shifts (unlike moonstone, which exclusively aided their shifts).

You had a moonflower plant in your own apartment, which had been useless for any werewolf purposes as of late with Sungchan never coming over, but hopefully it wouldn’t be that way for long. It had been slightly altered so that it would be suited to growing indoors; moonflower was typically a vine, which was difficult to keep in a one-bedroom apartment with limited balcony space, so after a little bit of help from Jaemin, your moonflower grew as a cute little potted bush instead.

But there was still one more feature on the ring that hadn’t been explained to you. A single, silver, almost-circle on one side of the outside of the ring, entirely flush with the top of the container that held the moonflower essence. The outline of the rest of the circle was there, but it wasn’t quite filled in all the way, a small crescent of darkness keeping the silver from being whole.

“And this?” You gestured to the symbol.

“Tracks the lunar cycle. Waxing gibbous, we’re just a couple days away from the full moon. He probably instinctually knows what phase of the moon it is, but it doesn’t hurt to have an extra reminder.”

Turning the ring over in your hand again, you found yourself nodding and smiling. “Yeah. This is perfect.”

“And you said it’s happening in a few days? So after the full moon, right?”

“Oh, uhm, yes.”

“We could totally make another by then, if you wanted a matching set,” she offered.

“Really? So quick?”

“A lot of the initial process is the R&D,” the witch explained with a laugh. “But we already know how to make this one, it’ll be easy. Promise.”

You thought this over for a moment. After telling so many people that it wasn’t marriage or engagement, getting matching rings… But the whole point of exchanging mating bites in the first place was to match. Well, almost, since no two werewolves would have the same bite. To coordinate. To give each other your own version of the same thing. Your own version of the same thing.

“Do you think you could make it without the chamber with the moonflower essence, actually?” You asked. “Like, still with the lunar tracker. Just the main band and the little part that tracks the lunar cycle.”

She lit up. “Absolutely! Should be even quicker, actually. Probably have that done by the end of business tomorrow, morning after tomorrow at the latest.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah! Say the word and I’ll start as soon as you leave.”

“Yes, please!”

Sungchan hadn’t let go of you once since you arrived at his apartment the evening that you were to be receiving his bite. Either with an arm around your waist, pressed up against your back, or holding your hand. Shotaro had already vacated the premises by the time you’d gotten there, a half-excuse of him staying at Jisung and Chenle’s place tonight being given by the werewolf when you asked.

The two of you ate dinner first. He wanted to feed you, making sure you had eaten and were hydrated before. You were finally taking your class on werewolves this looming fall semester, and had already bought and read ahead in the textbook for it. Specifically, you’d lost count of the amount of times that you’d read and re-read the sections on mating bites, mating bite rituals, and anything else that you could imagine would be relevant to your current predicament.

For mated werewolf couples in packs who were going through the actual ritual, the first step was to usually share a meal consisting of raw meat—fresh kill. Neither you nor Sungchan could or would actually eat that, so you just had a hearty serving of your favorite takeout orders.

Sungchan didn’t even let you sit in your own chair, having insistently pulled you into his lap right at their kitchen table, lifting bite after bite of food to your mouth, always sure to follow it up with your slowly draining glass of water. You were mindful of him, too, making sure he didn’t ignore his half-werewolf appetite in his concern over you.

“‘M full, Sung…” You murmured, gently covering his hand with yours to maneuver the food towards his mouth instead.

He frowned thoughtfully, not parting his lips even as you bumped the spoon against them, looking like a very serious toddler who wasn’t enjoying the game of airplane being played at the moment. “You sure?”

“Yeah, promise.” You nodded with a smile. “It was delicious, and I’m all done. You took good care of me, Sung. Can you let me finish taking care of you, now?”

Your boyfriend’s features softened at that, and he parted his mouth, letting you feed him the spoonful. He happily chewed and swallowed, looking especially blissed out as you gently scratched his scalp with your free hand. In between continuing to feed Sungchan, you finished off your water, and made sure he drank his as well.

Finally, he too declared that he was done eating. Curled up in your boyfriend’s embrace, with a full belly and a full heart, you could’ve almost thought that this was any normal night; nearly forgotten what was going to come next. Nearly.

Sungchan took you to his room next, which wasn’t really necessary, since you had the whole apartment to yourselves. He held you to him with an arm around your waist as he shut the door behind you two. You raised an eyebrow when you heard the door lock.

He buried his face in your neck, wrapping both arms around you now as he half-growled, “Smells like Shotaro out there…”

“Locking the door to keep the smells out…” You hummed in amusement, leaning your head on his shoulder and resting your weight back against him. You decided not to outright point out the flaw in logic there, nor the fact that the two of you could’ve also done this at your place, where there was no smells of Shotaro or anybody else, just you. But of course, you figured it needed to be here because it smelled like Sungchan. It had been so long since Sungchan had been to your home that you were doubtful even a full werewolf would be able to catch a trace of him.

He lifted his head and breathed in like he was about to say something, but you just pulled his arms tighter around you and reassured him, “It’s perfect, Sung. Our own little space. Just you and me.”

Dropping his cheek back down to your shoulder, Sungchan let out a long but shaky breath. Putting your hands over his, your slotted your fingers with your boyfriend’s.

“Sung? Baby? Everything okay?” You asked.

“I just can’t believe we’re doing this…”

“Hey, if you’re not ready for this, we can stop. If you don’t want to do it, that’s okay.”

“No, I want to,” he said, a hard edge to his voice. He coughed, his voice softening again but sounding a little strained as he continued, “Really. I mean… I can’t believe I’m doing this with you. I seriously thought I’d royally fucked things up forever. Multiple times.”

“Well, you didn’t,” you told him strongly. “Now, can I go first?”

“You… go first?” He repeated, confusion coloring his voice so clearly. Apparently, he’d forgotten that you’d be doing more than just getting bitten tonight.

“Aw, I would love to, thanks, Sung,” you tittered jokingly, patting his cheek. “Close your eyes, please?”

He chuckled, and a beat later, announced, “Okay, they’re closed.”

You craned your neck just the slightest to be able to peer at him out of the corner of your vision, seeing that he was in fact squeezing his eyes shut tightly. Reaching into your pocket, you retrieved the small pouch that you’d picked up from the coven’s shop this morning. You shook out the two rings inside into your palm, and put yours on your left middle finger first, a simple silver band with the lunar indicator welded into it. It looked almost like a full moon, but you could see just the faintest strip of black showing that it was actually beginning to wane. Next, you gently put the other on Sungchan’s right ring finger, his with a faint shimmer of the moonflower essence.

Holding the side of his head to press a soft kiss to his cheek, you declared, “Done. You can open your eyes.”

He did so, immediately holding up his hand to inspect what you’d done to it. As he looked over the new jewelry, you explained, “It has moonflower essence, all around the band. And the moon design on it will actually change with the phases of the real moon.”

“Thank you, Y/N. It’s beautiful,” he picked up your left hand, bringing it up towards his face that was still hooked over your shoulder—presumably to kiss the back of it—but stopped short as he seemed to have noticed your new accessory as well. His fingers turned your silver band until he could get a good look at the lunar tracker that matched his.

“I got one too,” you added, skin turning warmer and starting to prickle the longer he went without saying anything. “It’s a lot prettier than those phone apps that track the lunar cycle, right?”

Then Sungchan was turning you around by the hips. He grabbed your face with two hands to kiss you, and you got on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck, eagerly kissing him back. You could feel the cool band of his new ring pressing against your cheek, warming up with every passing second from yours and Sungchan’s bodies.

Breaking the kiss, he reached behind his neck for your left hand with his right, bringing them both down to rest over his chest. He pressed your palm against him firmly, and you could feel his heart beating under your touch.

“I love you so much, Y/N,” he said quietly, earnestly, his voice cracking over your name. “So much… that it doesn’t feel real sometimes.”

“What do you mean, Sung?”

“Like, one person shouldn’t be able to have this much love in their body. Or at least, I shouldn’t.”

“What?” You let out a breathy chuckle. “That’s what so beautiful about love, there can only be more of it, it’s infinite. Of course you’re capable of so much love. How could you think anything else?”

“I used to never understand how my mom could choose to fall in love with a human. To doom her family—me—to our life. No safety or identity that comes with a pack. Even after I realized I had fallen for you, I-I was afraid I was so… messed up from thinking like that my whole life that I wasn’t going to be able to love you like you deserved. Like something might’ve been broken in me.”

“Sung…” You touched under his eye with your free hand, where a tear had fallen. “You’re not broken. You’ve never done anything but love me with your whole heart, I know that. You’ve been so good to me, always.”

“I know,” he nodded zealously, accompanied by a sniffle. “I know now, that I’m not broken. That I can have all this overflowing love in me, and it’s so awesome, but also kind of terrifying?”

You chuckled lightly at that. “Yeah, I know what you mean. I love you so much I get a little scared too, because I’ve never loved someone like I love you. And we haven’t even been properly dating for that long, so if I already love you this much, then how much more am I going to love you in six months? A year? Two? Five? Ten?”

He snapped his head up from where he’d been gazing down at your hands, eyes locking on yours. You smiled back at him weakly. The urge to stuff your words back in your mouth was there, but you knew you couldn’t. It was the truth, that you could picture yourself with Sungchan that far ahead in your life. For the rest of it, if you were going to be that honest, but you bit your tongue before you got there.

The two of you had unintentionally moved onto the next part of the werewolf mating ritual: moonlit confessionals. The light of the nearly full moon shone down on the two of you in front of one of his bedroom windows. Your textbook hadn’t been terribly explicit on the exact content of the words exchanged at this point, just that it was an opportunity for the couple to truly bare their souls to each other, make sure there was nothing hidden that would make the other not want to go through with the rest of the ritual.

“After my last relationship… ended like it did, I thought I might be a little broken, too,” you pushed on with your confession. “I was afraid that in my next relationship, I’d just see cheating everywhere. I was honestly a little relieved when our first date blew up, because I thought that if I dated someone again, I’d treat them like a criminal. But never once has it ever crossed my mind with you, never once have I ever doubted you, have I ever felt anything less than absolutely loved and adored.”

“I do, absolutely love and adore you,” he replied. “And I’m so glad you brought up the future, because I think about it, too. Like, all the time. When I imagine my life after college, or what my life is going to be like in five or ten years… I don’t know much, but I always imagine that you’re there. Like, I don’t know what I want to be, other than happy, with you.”

You couldn’t take it anymore, grabbing him by the neck to yank his mouth down to yours. Pulling him with you towards the bed, you stopped when you felt your legs back up against it.

“Do it, Sung. Bite me,” you murmured against his lips.

He let out a low, throaty groan at your words, tipping his head back as he took a couple deep breaths. You pressed a few more open-mouth kisses to his Adam’s apple and collarbones. Sungchan made another sound that was between a sigh and a grunt.

“We should be sitting down for this,” he stated, though he made no move to follow through on his words.

You removed your lips from his skin to happily plop down into the center of his mattress. The front of you was a bit cold since you were no longer pressed up against him, though you had a feeling that wasn’t going to be for very long.

Sungchan sat down facing you, scooping you up into his arms. You easily settled into his lap, your legs finding familiar places on either side of his hips. Fondly brushing some hair off his forehead, you would’ve been rather content to just stare down at your Sung bathed in moonlight for the next several minutes, so handsome and all yours. But you had something you needed to do tonight.

Grabbing the hem of the sweatshirt you were wearing—Sungchan’s, of course—you shucked it over your head and off onto the floor. That left you just in a tank top with nearly negligible straps. You could see your boyfriend’s eyes zero in on the bare expanse of skin from your shoulder to your neck that you’d just exposed, where his bite was supposed to go.

“I had my turn,” you said, slipping the thin strap off of the shoulder he was staring at, and tilting your head to open up as much space as possible, make it as clear of an invitation as possible. “Now it’s yours. Go on, baby. I trust you.”

Sungchan didn’t say anything more, but he did grab both of your hands by the wrist—his grip surprisingly gentle—to wrap your arms around his waist. You splayed your hands out over his lower back under his shirt, indulging yourself in his warmth, and smoothing a thumb over his skin. He then wrapped his around you to hold you even closer, if that was possible, and you watched him open his mouth, his white teeth catching the pale moonlight, glinting, and looking much sharper than normal— reminding you of how they looked during his shifts.

Then those teeth were biting you, sinking into your muscle.

Renjun had described what being bitten by a vampire was like to you, once. He had a bucket list for that sort of thing—magical encounters. He said it was a small pinch, barely more than the pressure of a needle, then it was all pleasure from thereafter. Vampire venom, of course, was meant to do that so that those they were biting felt so good so they wouldn’t resist while the vampire drank as much as they pleased from them.

Werewolves were predators in an entirely different sense, with the teeth to match. Theirs were meant to grab prey, hold them in their jaws no matter how much they struggled, and rip flesh from bone. As much damage as possible in one go, so that if said prey happened to escape, they wouldn’t be able to get very far with their injuries.

It was visceral pain, the moment Sungchan bit you. You couldn’t hear the noise that you made—only aware that you made one as you felt the gurgle of something in the back of your throat—through the white noise that exploded behind your eyes the instant his teeth hit bone. You were glad he’d directed you to put your arms around him just moments earlier, as your nails were now firmly embedded in the skin of his lower back—you were sure those would’ve been drawing your own blood in your palms if they hadn’t been there.

A memory suddenly flashed in your mind. You were seven, in your backyard with your dad, watching two squirrels chase each other across the grass. Then your neighbor’s dog came out of nowhere—maybe slipped his collar—and got one in his mouth. Your dad couldn’t get his hand over your eyes quick enough. You didn’t want to pet Mr. Lee’s dog when you saw him a couple days later, despite how well he sat, the adorable way his tongue lolled out from between his razor-sharp canines, and how fast his tail wagged.

You trusted him, of course, or you wouldn’t have asked him to do this. Not let him; but suggested, encouraged, requested, told him to. Your fingernails dug into his back even harder at the idea, as much to anchor yourself and provide an outlet as to hold him to you as well. Surely you had to be breaking skin at this point.

You had the urge to bite down on something too. It was a need that came from deep in your jaw. Like when people were given something to bite on for painful procedures in old medical dramas. Or maybe reciprocity.

This go around, you kept your teeth to yourself, though, sinking them into your bottom lip. That pain didn’t even register past the supernova radiating out from your shoulder.

Sungchan finally pulled his teeth out from your flesh, and the rest of your senses snapped back into focus. Your eyes fluttered open—when did you close them?—back to Sungchan’s bedroom, your fingers slowly unfurled from where they’d dug into his back, and you could hear him talking to you as he gently inspected the bite wound.

You brought your hands back around in front of you. Your eyes widened minutely as you realized that there was bright red under a couple of your fingernails. And it wasn’t yours. The beds of your nails were perfectly intact, meaning that you really had broken his skin.

“Oh God, Y/N, the blood. I’m so sorry.” Sungchan muttered under his breath, reaching for something on his nightstand.

For half a second, you thought he meant his, and you were about to apologize as you were still staring down at your hands mostly in awe. But then you actually saw his face for the first time as he turned back around, clutching a damp hand towel.

There was a red tint to his lips, and you realized that wasyour blood. Electricity jolted up your spine before the thought had even fully formed.

…he won’t even draw blood. So much for that, Mr. Jung.

His tongue darted out to instinctively investigate the wetness on his mouth, and a sudden thrill shuddered through you as you watched. You decided not to ask how it tasted to him, despite the question certainly popping into your mind.

You pressed a kiss to his cheekbone instead, so far back it was nearly in his hairline. “I’m okay, Sung. I’m okay.”

Without a word, he started gently cleaning up the bite wound, and you had half a mind to ask for another towel for his back, though you knew that would be futile until he got you situated. So, you sat patiently, keeping your head craned to the side to give him plenty of room, and watched his intent face as he worked.

“Sung?”

He sighed, a sound that let you know he was already beginning his mental descent through the seven circles of werewolf hell. “I know, I know, I’m sorry, I’m so—”

“Can I bite you next time?” You asked simply.

The towel stilled over your bite.

“You… next time… bite… me?” His eyes glassed over as his mouth stumbled to even form around the individual words.

“I know I won’t leave a mark like you but… so I can have something to do?” You used the hand of your unbitten shoulder to trace a line from his ear down his jugular, under his collar, to his shoulder, then back to his collarbone. You took your hand back as you went to joke, “Unless you’re expecting extravagant and meaningful gifts every time?”

“No, no. I mean yes! I mean—” Sungchan took a second to shake his head and blink, clearing his mind. “I don’t expect gifts every time. And yes, you can bite me next time. I didn’t think you would be up for a next time after I… well, after all this.”

He gestured vaguely to the wound that he’d gone back to tending to. A quick glance at it out of the corner of your eye showed you that it had already stopped bleeding and was starting to mend itself. At least Mr. Jung was right about that part.

Even through the acute worry over the unexpected severity of the bite, you could tell that Sungchan was already more clear-headed and overall relaxed, the constant nervous tension in his body gone, replaced just by a determined set of his shoulders, and momentary furrow of his brow as he cleaned up the bite. Brushing his hair off his forehead, you trailed your hand down to cup his cheek fondly. “Sungchan, this is the most yourself I’ve seen you in a long time. Yes, I’m going to keep your bite.”

Just the bright, tender smile on Sungchan’s face—the recognition of being loved and reflecting it back to you—would’ve been more than enough for you to do this again, whether or not it helped the scent anxiety. You could always work on another solution for that. But this you wouldn’t take away for the world.

He set the towel aside again, and you grabbed his hands now that they were free, messing with the brand-new ring adorning one of his fingers.

“Besides, even if I can’t leave a mark like yours next time, I can still mark you up,” you mused quietly, almost as if it were to yourself, except for the fact that you had a werewolf practically chest-to-chest with you. And you knew very well that you did. “They just won’t last as long.”

“Why wait until next time?” He suggested, and you heard the long inhale he took after. You wondered if you smelled any different to him already, or if he just needed to breathe.

You looked up from your hands to him with a smirk. “I like the way you think.”

Sungchan captured your lips in a kiss that tasted of hunger, and love, and metal— your blood was still around his mouth. And you smiled into it before doing as promised and dropping your mouth to the column of his throat, well above his collar, and letting your teeth graze his skin. You could feel his gasp rush in under your lips as his hands pulled your hips firmly down against his.

You decided that Jeno could be a ‘puppy’ all he wanted. You had a wolf, and you were more than happy with that.

“I think I made it out more marked up than you, you know,” Sungchan called out to you from the bathroom the next morning.

“Really?” You replied just as loudly, amusement in your tone as you stretched leisurely in his sheets.

“Shotaro’s going to be concerned for my wellbeing at this rate.”

Sitting up and scooting towards the corner of his bed closest to the mirror, you checked out your own reflection as you imagined he was currently doing, your fingers trailing over the dark bite mark now set into your skin. There was no scab or blood, just the faintest ring of raised skin and distinct outline of teeth. Rolling out your shoulder, you winced as a dull pain radiated out from the bite. Dropping the arm back down, you continued staring at the mark, a certain giddiness fluttering around in your stomach. You’d have this for… who knows how long. The rest of your life, maybe.

Clearing your throat and your mind, you responded to Sungchan with a disbelieving snort, “No he’s not.”

“No, he’s not,” he agreed with a sigh as he walked back into his bedroom just in a pair of sweatpants. Which let you get a great view of the countless blue and purple hickies, love bites, long red scratches, and faded remains of crescent-shaped nail marks that littered his neck, chest, shoulders, and back. You bit down on your bottom lip, a strange mixture of pride and embarrassment welling up in your chest. Sungchan fixed you with a shit-eating grin, putting his hands on his hips. “But my parents will be when we go over for dinner next week.”

“We’re going over for dinner next week?!” You yelped, covering your mouth in horror, panic, and mortification. A lot of the worst of those bruises were well above the collar of all of his shirts. “Why did you let me—”

“I’m kidding,” he cut you off with a chuckle, lumbering over towards the bed to flop down beside you on the mattress.

You smacked his arm as you hissed, “I’m going to kill you, Jung Sungchan! Don’t do that to me!”

“Ouch, full name.” He pouted.

“God, I was about to preemptively die of embarrassment!”

“So it’ll be fine for them to see that,” he pointed to your shoulder, “but not these?” He gestured from his own neck down.

“Different situational and cultural contexts!”

He nodded slowly, “Oh, right, of course...”

“You’re half-human, Sungchan, don’t pull that ‘I’m-just-a-simple-werewolf’ act on me!”

“I upset you. I’m sorry,” he apologized, grabbing your hand and kissing the back of it.

“You better be, Sungchan.”

“I am, baby, I am.” He gave your hand a half dozen more fervent, rapid-fire smooches. “Now are you done calling me that?”

“What? Your name?” You scoffed.

“You know what I mean, baby...”

“So we don’t have dinner with your parents next week?”

“Nope. Two weeks.”

You shook your head and sighed. “And so you live to see another day, Sung.”

“I’m half-werewolf, I would’ve been all healed up by next week, you know,” he pointed out, sitting up behind you and pressing a couple lingering kisses to your shoulder with your new mating bite.

“I know, I know.”

He continued trailing sweet kisses up your neck and jaw. “Which means I’ll also be all healed in two weeks if you were to give me some more…”

“I don’t know, you just played a very mean trick on me, Sung,” you teased, crossing your arms over your chest as if you were genuinely deliberating not giving in and absolutely devouring this man right now.

“I know,” he murmured between kisses, gently holding your chin with one hand to turn your head back towards him. “I’m the worst.”

“You are,” you breathed out against his lips.

“So now that we agree on that…”

“I feel like I’m going to throw up.” You jabbed the crosswalk button repeatedly.

“It’s going to be fine, Y/N,” Sungchan reassured you, lacing his fingers with yours. “I’ve already met your parents before and it was fine.”

“Yeah, once, for like two minutes, as my friend.” You pointed out, banging the button with the side of your fist when it still hadn’t changed.

You were of course talking about a random Sunday afternoon way back in the spring semester, before you and Sungchan had started dating. He had come over that day to help you put together your new coffee table that you’d finally gotten around to buying. Except, upon starting the assembling, the two of you had realized that neither of you had one of the tools required for it. Thankfully, your dad did, and offered to bring it by since he and your mom were about to head out to run errands anyway. Cue some very brief, very awkward introductions between your parents and Sungchan when they’d brought the promised tool. You weren’t counting, but you would’ve bet money that you had called him your friend at least ten times during that less-than-five-minute conversation, with so much stress and nervous emphasis on the word that you wouldn’t have been surprised if your parents had left your apartment that day already thinking that the two of you were dating.

But now you were actually supposed to be introducing him to them as your boyfriend, and you felt like you were going to throw up and pass out and die before you even got there.

Sungchan wordlessly let go of your hand to smoothly step between you and the crosswalk button, picking up your other hand to hold.

“Come on, you said it yourself that they were impressed with me after that two-minute conversation,” he reminded you. “Imagine how great of an impression I’ll leave after two hours.”

“All I said was that my dad told me later that he was surprised that you were a werewolf because you were so calm,” you corrected him. “He’s used to all my friends from high school who had the bouncing-off-the-fucking-walls energy like Jeno.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Which, by the way, I’ve already told them that you’re not in a pack or anything like that, but pretty much all they know about werewolves is from my classmates and friends from when I was in high school. So… apologies in advance for any assumptions or comparisons they make.”

“Right, the two packs you went to school with.”

“Yeah, them. I told them you’re not in a pack, and don’t have any of that going on. It actually made my mom relax a lot more. I think all that stuff kind of scares her.”

“What? Afraid that I’d whisk you away with my big werewolf muscles to my werewolf pack and she’d never hear from her poor little human daughter ever again?”

You burst out into an incredulous laugh. “You have got to stop talking about yourself like that or I’m seriously going to hurt your feelings one of these days, baby.”

“By saying what? It’s not like I’m lying?”

“Your ego is as stupid big as your stupid big werewolf muscles.”

“Ha!” He cheered out victoriously. “So you admit it.”

“Wasn’t falling in love supposed to rot your brain? Make you more docile or whatever? I think it’s just made you even worse…” You tutted, shaking your head.

“How could I not be on an ego trip? I mean, have you seen my girlfriend?” He retorted. “She’s crazy beautiful, and smart, and funny, and so sweet. I’d be jealous of me if I wasn’t me.”

You rolled your eyes, but squeezed his hand tighter. “Alright, you sap. Maybe the ego trip is warranted. But seriously, don’t talk about yourself like that in front of my parents or I’ll die of secondhand embarrassment. Okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

So far lunch was going okay. Your mom had invited the two of you over for a late Sunday lunch, which always meant sandwiches and lemonade in your house. And it was going okay, aside from the initial reaction you’d gotten when they’d opened the front door. You could still hear your mother’s shocked gasp and ‘Oh my God…’ muttered under her breath as her eyes were glued onto your neck. More specifically, you knew she was staring at your new mating bite. Or, the half of it that she could see— you weren’t exactly hiding it, so you’d picked your t-shirt today only for comfort in the lingering end-of-August-cusp-of-September heat. It was just over three weeks since Sungchan had given you his bite, a couple days shy of the upcoming full moon, and yeah maybe you should visit your parents more often. But in your defense, you’d been a bit busy between getting the bite in the first place, and the new semester starting.

Your father didn’t have much better of a reaction than your mother, eyes going wide behind his thick, frameless lenses before his jaw clenched. There was still a certain tension in his muscles that jumped every time he saw Sungchan touch you, whether it was a brush of arms, holding your hand, or an innocent squeeze of your knee as he stood up to head to the bathroom that he’d just been gestured towards.

Picking your glass of lemonade back up after Sungchan had left the room, you took only a sip before your mom was reaching across the table to gently take your hand in hers.

“Hey, sweetie…” She said softly but with a certain worried tenseness in her tone that made your stomach drop.

You tried to mimic the front she was putting up, smiling back at her brightly and innocently, “Hey, Mom?”

“Listen... We are so happy for you, and we love Sungchan, we really do.”

“Okay, then why does it feel like this is about to go somewhere that I’m not going to like?”

“Don’t you think that the two of you might just be moving a little fast?”

Entirely dropping all sunny pretenses, you narrowed your eyes at her suspiciously. “What do you mean?”

“The-the bite,” she explained with a wince, pointing to her own shoulder.

“That’s sort of like marriage for them, right?” Your dad cut in gruffly.

Despite it being phrased like a question, his tone made it sound much more like an accusation, like he already knew he was right and was just letting you know that he knew the truth—or at least what he thought the truth was. It reminded you of when you’d get in trouble as a kid and he’d ask you if you knew how the vase in the living room got broken despite very much already having a good idea himself. Giving you the opportunity to fess up before he punished you even more severely for the initial bad deed and then lying about it on top of that. But you hadn’t done anything wrong this time.

“Sort of, not really, it depends. In some packs, I guess. But Sung’s not in a pack, you know that,” you reminded them firmly, straightening up in your seat.

Your mom jumped back in, “Right, but still, don’t you think he kind of rushed you into—”

“It was my idea,” you cut her off before she could even finish articulating that thought. You knew you’d get all the way pissed off if she did. It was already taking a lot to dampen your anger now and keep this at a civil conversation. It’s just because they didn’t understand. You had to keep telling yourself that, and do your best to explain, calmly, and make them understand. Not everybody had three years of Sociology and Magical Creatures Studies under their belt like you. Your mom had been a stay-at-home mom all your life, and your dad was just a few years away from retirement, having worked in a human-dominated field for his whole career. An architect.

Those same sharp eyes that would pore over building designs late at night in his home office while you sat in his lap and did your own colorful sketches in crayon—and eventually fell asleep in his arms—were now regarding you with a clear distrust. “Darling, really, it—”

“Look, when we first started dating, Sung was having a really hard time with scent anxiety,” you once again spoke over him authoritatively. “All the usual scenting stuff, it wasn’t working. He was really stressed, and anxious, and just… worried sick all the time about me like spontaneously combusting or something if we were apart for even a second. Me taking his bite was the best solution. And now, the beginning of the semester has gone off without a hitch. Classes, my Magical Botany Club, his astronomy club, his senior thesis meetings, my research mentorship project... I don’t know if we would’ve been able to do all of this apart, clear-headed like… literally a month ago. And yes, I brought it up to him. I’m fine, I promise. This is what I want, he’s what I want.”

The two of them exchanged perturbed, skeptical glances, before your mom nodded, and your father let out a resigned sigh.

“Alright, sweetheart. Like we said, we like Sungchan. We just don’t want you two doing anything that you might regret. Either of you.”

“I know, Dad. But we’ve got this. Seriously, it’s… really good with him,” you promised him, a giddy smile coming to your features with your last words.

“We’re happy to hear that, sweetie,” your mom patted your hand.

“Thanks, Mom.”

“I don’t want to know anything else about how it happens, but— Does it hurt? Like, right now, does it hurt you?”

“Oh, no, Mom, it’s not painful to the touch or sore or anything,” you reassured her, carefully skirting around the how and instead focusing on the now, pressing on the bite mark to demonstrate that it wasn’t tender like a bruise.

“Good, good, I’m glad.”

The sound of the bathroom door opening echoed down the hall to you, and you turned around to smile at Sungchan over your shoulder as he started back towards you all.

“Well, I think it’s time for the tart I’ve got in the fridge, huh?” Your mom beamed at everyone, standing up from the kitchen table.

“That could’ve gone worse,” you declared as soon as your parents’ front door shut behind the two of you, leaving you and Sungchan on the sidewalk. There wasn’t much in the way of leftovers aside from the berry tart, which your mom sent you off with so that your father wouldn’t eat it all.

“You think so?” Sungchan asked warily. “Because I uh… I did hear what you all were talking about when I was in the bathroom.”

“Yeah, I thought you might’ve.” You nodded, squeezing his hand. “I’m sorry about all that, Sung. I think they get it now. And really, it was my fault for not at least giving them a heads-up about the bite, it didn’t even cross my mind. We just caught them off-guard.”

Sungchan suddenly stopped the two of you on the empty sidewalk. He cupped your cheek in his hand, running a thumb over your cheekbone, then down your jaw, the side of your neck, until he stopped right over where you knew the mating bite was. His thumb once again stroked over your skin, tracing the shape of the bite and pushing aside your collar when needed.

“Hearing you say that this is what you want, I’m what you want… made me really happy,” he declared simply, eyes still locked on the mark.

“It’s true,” you replied.

A bright, giddy smile spread across his face. “I know. And I knew it as soon as I heard you say it, too.”

You grinned back up at him. “That makes me really happy to hear, Sung. I always want you to know how much I love you.”

He leaned in nearer, and you closed your eyes anticipating a kiss, but instead he just dropped a fond peck to your nose before standing up straight. “I think it’s starting to finally uh, get through my thick skull.”

“Finally,” you echoed with a giggle. “Alright, your place?”

“I actually wanted to ask… Can we go to your place tonight?”

“Finally going to give poor Taro some peace?”

“That, yeah. But I wasn’t even thinking about him to be honest. I just… I want to.”

“Okay, Sung. Come on.” You tugged him down the street in the direction of your apartment.

Sungchan had been to your place on several occasions as your friend and your boyfriend, and yet you were drawing a blank for exactly the last time he had been there. Maybe your third date? Or, technically your fourth date, but you and Sungchan had unanimously agreed to not count that first awkward blind date that the guys set you up on as your official first date. Regardless, it’d been… a while since he’d been over. You kicked your shoes off by the door and didn’t bother to turn the lights on as you deposited the leftover tart in the fridge before beginning your nightly plant-tending. There were a few that needed to be misted still, then you could fully relax. You did the majority of your plant care-taking duties during the actual day, there was just the odd handful that needed a couple good spritzes.

Sungchan watched you patiently as you did so just in the moonlight coming in through the sheers you had over a window. Then, once the spray bottle was put back down, you led the way into your bedroom with maybe a little bit of a skip in your step. While you weren’t a werewolf, you were understanding how nice it felt to have your person in a space that you felt safe and warm and good in again. Like everything was going to be okay forever, maybe.

“You want to wear one of my hoodies?” You joked, rifling through your drawers for some pajamas for yourself.

“You have anything that’d fit?” Sungchan perked up from where he was laying on your bed to ask. He’d already located his few pieces of clothing still stored away here, meanwhile you were struggling as it turns out you very much needed to do a laundry day.

“Try that.” You tossed one at him before turning back around to the dresser. After a few moments, you hadn’t heard anything from behind you, though. “Sung? Love? Everything okay back there?” You looked over your shoulder to find a very cozy-looking werewolf in your extra, extra large hoodie—which just fit him regularly. But it was the eyes-closed, soft, happy smile on his face as he had the hood up around his head, his hair strewn about messily, and he held the ends of the sleeves up to his nose that made you stop in your tracks to just take him in.

His eyes snapped open, and he dropped his hands almost sheepishly. “Yeah, yeah, all good. It fits. Thanks, baby.”

“Of course.” You nodded, feeling a fond smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “I’ll be there in a sec.”

You quickly got into your own pajamas for the night and climbed into bed as well. As you reached over to turn off your lamp, Sungchan stopped your hand.

“Are you going to sleep right now?” He asked.

“Well, no,” you said, an eyebrow raised as you watched his eyes flick between your hand and your neck.

“Can we leave the lights on for just a little longer? You can turn them off as soon as you need to sleep. I just… So I can see it?” He let go of your hand and instead graced a finger over your bite mark.

You dropped your hand, nodding. “Sure, Sung.”

He smiled brightly at you. “Thank you.”

With the added light, you decided to do some reading, and Sungchan kept busy alternating between his phone, and folding and unfolding the same origami heart on your bedside table next to him. But you could feel him look over at you every so often, and you knew he was getting used to the still-new image of you with his mating bite. As you came to the close of a chapter, you tucked your bookmark—the film strip of you two from Valentine’s Day at the boba shop—back in and set the book aside.

“Sung?”

“Mm?”

Now that you’d gotten his attention, you wordlessly opened your arms, and he immediately launched himself into them. You let out a punched-out giggle as you suddenly had an arm- and lapful of werewolf. He settled in with his head in the crook of your neck and shoulder, his lips right against your bite again, his arms wrapped around your waist, and one of his legs slung over you, caging you in. You rested your cheek on the crown of his head, threading the fingers of one hand in his hair as you rubbed your other hand up and down his back. The metal of your lunar ring glinted from among his soft brown locks. Waning crescent.

“Can I turn the light off now, love? I don’t think you can see it from this angle, right?” You requested humorously.

“Hm?” Sungchan made a low, slow, questioning noise in the back of his throat, and you knew he hadn’t even processed your ask.

“Light. Off?”

“Mm, yeah, mkay.”

You could feel him nod against you.

Reaching over towards your lamp was a bit difficult, but you were finally able to stretch your fingers enough to turn it off, plunging your room into darkness. Shifting to relax a bit lower into your pillows, you returned your hand to your boyfriend’s back.

“You’re cuddly tonight,” you commented. Cuddly, not clingy like before the bite. You didn’t feel guilty for reading earlier, he’d been content to do his own thing in the meantime, and you’d been the one to initiate the cuddling now. He’d just been very enthusiastic.

“Don’t you know, Miss MCS Major?”

“How long have we known each other, and you don’t know my major?”

“‘Miss Interdisciplinary Major with a concentration in Magical Creatures Studies’ is a bit long, don’t you think?”

“It’s correct.”

“Miss MCS Student?”

“That’s… acceptable.”

“Anyway, don’t you know about werewolf mating bites, Miss MCS Student?”

“Only whatever was covered in my Intro course, the sociocultural importance of them in packs. We haven’t covered that in my class on werewolves yet. And unfortunately, Dr. Kwon’s Interspecies Marriage class didn’t fit in my schedule last year.”

“Scent swapping. After a werewolf couple exchanges bites, they swap scents until they eventually just have one new one.”

“Ah, so it’s my turn to scent you.”

“Something like that.” Sungchan shrugged. “I know that’s the scientific explanation, like, the magianthropological one or whatever. But really… I just know that being here right now feels right. Like I was never meant to do anything else. Like I could go to class, or go hang out with friends, or something. But after, this is where I’m supposed to be. With you.”

“Home.” You replied simply. “You feel like home.”

“Yeah. You’re my home.”

Unable to come up with anything to say near intelligible, you pressed a long kiss to the top of his head before nuzzling your cheek back into his hair. His arms tightened around you minutely, holding you just that much closer to him.

“And you can’t just start calling me ‘love’ and expect me to just do nothing,” he added teasingly.

“Sung.”

“Yeah?”

The darkness made it so that you couldn’t see Sungchan as the two of you laid together, but every place that you touched felt much more alive, so much more real, connected. “I love you.”

He grabbed one of your hands, just to hold it. You let him.

“I love you, too.” His words didn’t hang in the air, they laid over you like a warm blanket, wound and weaved through your mind like your favorite song, and wrapped around you like a familiar hug. You stayed silent as you basked in them, letting out a soft, content hum as you cradled his head closer to your chest.

“I think I really understand her now,” Sungchan spoke up after some time.

You were used to his non-sequiturs by now. “Who?”

“My mom… Who you love isn’t always a choice, but where you go from there is. The choices you make with that love is up to you.” His hand tightened around yours.

“I can’t wait to be there to make more choices with you, Sung,” you murmured, running a thumb over the back of his knuckles.

Entering Half Moon Bakery with a skip in your step, Sungchan stopped you just past the front door. The two of you had been out and about running various errands all day, and had finally popped into your friends’ workplace for a little breather.

“I’ll be right back.” Sungchan pecked your forehead.

“I’ll go order.” You nodded, watching him disappear around the corner that led to the restrooms.

As you walked up to the counter, you offered the familiar wolf behind the counter a big smile. “Hey Jeno!”

“Hey, Y/N!” He grinned back. “So what can I get—”

He was cut off by a clanging from the kitchens behind him that made you jump out of your skin. The werewolf whipped around, concern etched on his features. He looked to you apologetically, “Sorry, I need to—”

“Go check on her,” you agreed, not liking the distinct lack of cursing that had accompanied the raucous noise. “I wanted to pick something new today anyway, so I’ll need some time.”

“Thanks, be right back!” And with that, he darted into the back.

You did in fact meander over to the display case of pastries, bending at the waist to peer at your options. Humming along to the song playing over the speakers, when you heard footsteps coming up behind you, you figured that it was Sungchan.

“Back so soon, love?” You asked with humor in your voice, standing up straight and turning around. All warmth that was in your chest froze and turned to dread when you saw who was actually behind you.

“Y/N. Been a while since you called me that.” You hadn’t seen your ex in over a year. Not since a week after you’d found out he’d been cheating on you throughout the entirety of your short-lived relationship, when he’d come to pick up what few things he had at your place. But somehow he was at your friends’ bakery now.

“I never did.” You reminded him through gritted teeth. “And clearly I didn’t mean to now.”

Pivoting back around, you crossed your arms and stared straight ahead at the menu board behind the counter.

“Back to your old type, huh?” He was peeling back the collar of your blouse to reveal all of your mating bite.

You snapped around, slapping his hand away. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

“Humans weren’t good enough, so you’re back on the werewolf dick, of course.”

You couldn’t stand to be in here for another second with him sneering at you like this. He wasn’t worth it. You could leave, go around the corner and text Sungchan and tell him where you are and what happened. The two of you could just go somewhere else for the afternoon.

“I’m not going to justify myself to someone like you, so if you’ll excuse me—” You tried to walk past him, but he stepped in front of you, blocking your path.

He seized your wrist. “Y/N, come on—”

“Let go of her.” Jeno had appeared at your side, stepping in between you and pulling your ex’s hand off of you.

“Oh, Jeno,” you breathed his name out as a sigh of relief, almost absent-mindedly, as you withdrew your hand back to your chest.

The human was unfazed, though, a sick delight lighting up his eyes as he looked Jeno up and down. “You must be the lucky dogboy. I should tell you, for your sake, she has a type, if you know what I mean. Dated two werewolves before me, and she broke up with me because I just couldn’t satisfy her like she was used to.”

“You’re disgusting,” you hissed.

“She broke up with you because you’re a cheating scumbag, actually.” Sungchan was back from the bathrooms, and strode up behind your ex, a deep frown already etched onto his features.

“That’s the lucky wolf whose girlfriend you just manhandled.” Jeno pointed up at him.

Sungchan clearly hadn’t witnessed anything, as his eyebrows raised minutely at the word ‘manhandled’ before his frown became a hard glare and he pushed your ex back against the wall by the shoulder. “If you grab her again, you lose the hand and the arm it’s attached to.”

The human looked around Sungchan at you with wide eyes. You nodded firmly in agreement with what your boyfriend had just said. Sounded plenty reasonable to you.

“Get the fuck out of here and don’t come back, we don’t want scumbags for customers,” Jeno growled, folding his arms over his chest.

The human had to wrench his shoulder out from Sungchan’s grip, giving the lot of you a final glare before storming out of the bakery. When you could finally no longer see him, you let out a shaky breath, and Sungchan immediately came over to wrap his arms around you. There was a vein protruding on his forehead that you weren’t used to seeing, and his jaw was still clenched tightly.

“Thanks, Sung.” You pressed yourself into his side, all too happy to be back in his familiar warmth. You weren’t going to forget about your friend that had come to your aid first, though. “You too, Jeno.”

“Yeah, thank you, Jeno.” Sungchan clapped the other werewolf on the back sincerely. “On one hand I’m so sorry I wasn’t here, Y/N, but on the other… I’m kind of glad I wasn’t because—”

“You might’ve actually broken his hand if you had been. I know, I know.” Jeno interrupted him humorously, despite how not humorous that outcome would’ve been. Satisfactory in the moment, yes, but ultimately not worth the criminal charges he could’ve pressed against Sungchan. “Try some werewolf meditation apps.”

“They have those?”

“You’ve never had to look into those before. Ha! Mr. Zen Werewolf taking advice on werewolf meditation apps from me! Oh, hold on, she’s going to get a kick out of this one, I’ve got to go tell her.” Jeno pointed to the kitchen over his shoulder with a thumb, turning around and pushing a door open, laughing the whole way back.

As Jeno relayed this hilarious revelation to his girlfriend, Sungchan led you over to a small loveseat in the corner of the bakery, settling the two of you down on it. Judging by the dual cackling laughter now coming from the kitchens, it was going to be a while before you’d be able to get your pastries.

“I know I can’t prevent everything bad ever from happening, but…” Sungchan laced his right hand with your left and rubbed slow circles into your skin with his thumb. “I hope you’ll always let me be there with you after.”

You rested your head on his shoulder, gazing at your lunar rings displaying matching half moons. “Always, Sung. We made a deal, remember?”

“Of course,” he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice before he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

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Mi Galleta (Part 1 - Ginger Molasses)

5.9K / Modern AU Grumpy Bouncer!Pero Tovar x Sunshine-Rich Girl!reader

Summary: You meet Pero Tovar, the grumpy bouncer of a high-end restaurant your friend really wants to eat at, and over the course of one week, you try to convince him to grant you and your friends access.

Warnings: Kind of a silly premise, but let's go with it! Fluff (Pero has one dirty thought), lots of food (including dishes I made up in my mind), cute nickname (won't spoil).

A/N: I love food and I love Pero? And I know Pero loves food, so I said, let's put him in the restaurant business 🤭 Did I mention that this whole thing was born from a dream? All cute dividers by @saradika-graphics 🥰 Series Masterlist

“Uggghhh!! I don’t understand how you’re supposed to eat here??!”

Your friend Dorothy is having an absolute fit, bordering on a tantrum, and you can’t help but bite down on your lip to keep from laughing. Normally, you can diffuse Dorothy’s rage with a well-timed joke and a hug, but it doesn’t look like that’s going to work just yet. Better let her exhaust herself a little more first.

“It’s like this restaurant doesn’t want people to come!!”

“Well, maybe it’s not worth going to then?” asks your other friend Eloise in a helpful tone, which seems like a miscalculation because Dorothy’s arms flail in the air erratically at the question.

“Of course, we have to go! It’s only the hottest restaurant opening; everyone is talking about it! We have to be there!!” Dorothy crosses her arms and exhales with an exaggerated pout.

Very gently you put your arms around her and pat her arm soothingly, “A new restaurant opens, like, every week. We can’t go to them all?”

Dorothy looks like she’s going to cry, “But I want to go to this one! And the fact that they’re making it so exclusive is making me want to go MORE.” You giggle and kiss the top of her head. Some people (okay maybe a lot of people), might say that Dorothy is a brat, but you love her to bits. And Eloise too. Of all your friends, the three of you are the closest, having known each other the longest. There are a lot of misconceptions about kids that go to expensive prep schools, the biggest being that you don’t make friends, you make connections <insert eye-roll>. You’ve known these two women since your days of school uniforms and college prep classes; you’ve seen each other through thick and thin, no one knows you better and is quicker to uplift and support you whenever you need. They are the dearest, most loyal and steadfast friends a person could ever ask for and you dare anyone to say differently.

“Okay,” you say, not one to give up on anything, even if it’s your friend’s short-term dream of eating in a restaurant that apparently doesn’t want any patrons, “what do we know?”

“Food and wine critics have been hinting that a major restauranteur is opening a new location this month and it’s going to be called ‘Lin’. There’s no phone number you can call to make a reservation. There haven’t been any private or soft opening invitations sent out. There is no information or even contact information online. The only thing I know is the location, and that’s only because my wine guy is supplying the restaurant and he told me he’s been making big deliveries in preparation for the opening.”

“Right, your wine guy,” you chuckle. Of course Dorothy has a wine guy. There's not much Dorothy doesn’t have. Nor Eloise. Or you, for that matter. You’ve always been more than aware of the privileges and good fortune bestowed upon your life by the sheer cosmic luck of having been born who you are and to your loving family – for the entirety of your life, you’ve been lucky enough to never want for anything, nor suffered any great misfortune or injustice. You know you’ve done nothing to deserve such advantages and so you’ve vowed never to take any of it for granted. You studied hard, work hard at a job you love, give back generously, and intend to make your way in the world with a positive impact on those around you, the way your parents have modelled. And right now, Dorothy is in need of some positivity.

“Well go on, what’s the address then?” you ask; Dorothy perks up at this and shows you the address she has pulled up on her maps app. “That’s right by my office!” you exclaim, surprised, “How about this? I’ll go and poke around on my lunch break this week and see what I can find out?”

Dorothy squeals and throws her arms around you, and Eloise comes over laughing to join in the reverie. Joyfully, the three of you spend the rest of the afternoon cooking up schemes for your investigative adventure on Monday.

Monday

You look up at the building number, then back down at your phone to double check the address. This doesn’t look like a restaurant at all, never mind a trendy one on the precipice of opening its doors; this looks like… an office building. You peek through the double glass doors and see exactly what you would expect in an office lobby: an information desk, a few modern design chairs arranged into a makeshift waiting area, and an elevator bank. Pushing lightly on the doors, you’re surprised to find that they open easily; you step in to the quiet lobby and with a slight trepidation call out, “Hello? Is there anyone here?” Met with silence, you walk in a little further and look around – not finding anything remarkable, no signs or directions for Lin or any other clues, you make your way to the elevator bank; surely there will be some sort of building directory near the elevators that can tell you something.

“May I help you with something, miss?”

You practically squeak from surprise before turning around to face the deep, accent-lilted baritone voice that snuck up on you. Whatever you were expecting, it wasn’t the tall, broad shouldered, brute of a man scowling at you. His impossible width and towering presence, coupled with the scar over his left eye should be enough to frighten you, but his chocolate brown eyes flash a momentary softness that has you more curious about him than anything.

“Oh yes please! Do you happen to know which way to the restaurant?” you figure pretending to know more than you do can’t hurt.

The stranger’s countenance shifts to something softer, something more like disapproval rather than outright distain (an improvement!) and he hesitates, as if deciding how to answer. Then suddenly, as if to proceed before he can talk himself out of it, he gives a slight nod to the elevators.

Though he maintains his outward glower, Pero can’t help but be charmed by the gleeful smile you give him as you press the button to call the elevator; you look giddy with excitement, and he almost wishes he doesn’t have to disappoint you.

Once the elevator doors open, you step in looking for any additional signs or clues on where you’re supposed to go; finding none, you decide you’ll just try every floor until you find what you’re looking for. However, when you go to press the first button, it lights up at your touch but quickly dims when you let go. Same with the next button. And the next. Holding the elevator door open with one hand, you peek your head out to find the tall stranger waiting for you at the end of the elevator bank, almost expectantly. Although still wearing his scowl, you’re sure you detect a small smile itching to escape, struggling valiantly to tug up the corner of his mouth. Ever so sweetly you call out, “Excuse me! Do you know how I can get access to these floors?”

In response, Pero wordlessly holds up a plastic fob he retrieves from his pocket and smirks (there it is).

You chuckle to yourself; this is shaping up to be quite the puzzle. You love puzzles.

The gatekeeper to the restaurant has already turned to silently return to his post when you step off the elevator and follow him; you find him sitting behind the information desk, looking sternly at his laptop and some papers. You’re positive that he’s only pretending to 1) fill out the paperwork and 2) ignore you, so you don’t feel bad about the Grade A pestering you’re about to inflict on him.

“Soooooo… who gets to decide who you let up?” you chirp, cheerily.

Silence.

Your sweet tone does not waver one bit, “Is there a list? Or like, an application, to get on the list?”

Silence. Then something like a sigh.

“There must be a list. How does one, get on the list?” you smile because you know you’re wearing him down.

“You won’t know until you try.” Finally! A response!

You make a big show of pretending to think, pursing your lips and tapping them gently with your perfectly manicured nails, “So bribery. Cool, cool.”

Silence.

“Do you want… my sandwich?” you hold out the lunch bag you have in your hand from your favourite sandwich shop.

“No, thank you.” Pero’s not looking at you; he’s afraid he might crack if he does.

“Good. This is my favourite sandwich,” if you’re not mistaken, you think you see the stranger’s shoulders shake a little, as if suppressing a laugh.

But still, more silence.

“Are you here everyday?” you tilt your head questioningly, and even though the man is not looking at you, you give him your widest doe eyes and softest pleading expression.

Pero almost wishes he hadn’t looked up, so instantly disarmed he is by the innocent look you’re giving him. For a moment, he imagines what it might be like to have you giving him this same look from between his legs while on your knees, before he forces himself to snap out of his daydream with something close to a groan. To cover up this noise, he gives a curt nod.

And then, although you couldn’t possibly be reading his filthy mind, you say, “May I come… back?” and Pero almost perishes when he hears the first three words of your question. He once again gives you a brusque tip of his head so not to betray any of his thoughts. Perfectly satisfied, you throw him another heart-stopping smile before practically flouncing out of the lobby, leaving Pero feeling positively thrown at what just happened.

Tuesday

You stand in front of the information desk, patiently waiting for Pero to look up. It takes him a few minutes to look at you, but you don’t mind. You rock back and forth on your heels, taking in the finer design details of the lobby that you hadn’t had an opportunity to admire yesterday.

“Hello again,” his tone is gruff, but you think not unfriendly.

Excited, you brace yourself on the desk and lean forward, eyes full of mirth, “Hi! Are you ready for your bribe?”

Looking impassive, Pero leans back in his chair and gestures openly with his hands, “Alright. Show me what you got.”

Pulling a container out of your bag, you place it in front of him and smile expectantly.

Pero examines the container with suspicion, but when he opens it, he does so with mock trepidation, as if the contents might explode and you giggle at his theatrics. It’s the sweetest sound Pero’s ever heard. Looking into the container, he sees it’s filled with cookies; he doesn’t know what he had expected, but it certainly wasn’t home baked goods.

He picks up a cookie and bites into it gingerly, trying to ignore how adorable he finds your look of anticipation.

“So?”

Pero arches his eyebrow in silence, a question in response to your question.

“Have I successfully bribed you into letting me and my friends up to the restaurant?” your eyes wide with hope.

“No, sorry.”

You can’t help but let your face fall, “Oh shoot. Were they not good?”

“Oh no, it’s very good… just not my favourite cookie,” Pero knows he could lie to you, but he’s sure you wouldn’t want that.

“Oh!” This you can work with, “Ok, if we’re going to do this, I’m going to need you to rank it, so I know if I’m getting closer.”

You lean over his desk and help yourself to a note pad; pulling a pen from your purse, you write the date, then neatly next to it “Ginger Molasses” and “_ /10” before pushing the paper back towards the bouncer. Pero tries not to smile while you impatiently watch him as he makes a show of thinking, tapping his fingers against his lip much like you did yesterday; he carefully pencils in a “7”.

“Not bad, not bad, not bad,” you chant to yourself, invigorated as you get up to go. “I’ll grab the container next time,” you say over your shoulder while giving the man a little wink. Pero waits until you’re gone before stuffing his face with your delicious cookies.

Wednesday

The next day, you return on your lunch break with white chocolate macadamia nut cookies. You’re not sure, but the bouncer looks like he’s expecting you; at least his scowling face seems to relax slightly when he sees you.

Keen to get started, you hurry through the usual pleasantries before quickly depositing the box in front of Pero. Inwardly, he’s amused by your eagerness.

You burst out laughing when Pero holds up a finger after he opens your container and reaches down next to him to open the door of a mini fridge and pulls out a bottle of milk. Confirming what he thought yesterday, that your laugh is the loveliest sound he’s ever heard, Pero’s chests puffs in pride at having been able to draw it out of you. He makes a big show of biting down into an oversized cookie for your amusement and takes a comical swig of milk before pulling out the pad you had used yesterday for the cookie rankings.

When you try to peer over him to see the score he’s giving, his hunches over and covers the paper with his arm, huffing dramatically. You giggle some more. You have to admit the bouncer is growing on you, his scary glare clearly a facade for work, because he’s actually quite funny. And cute.

Pero leans back and turns the pad towards you. You see he’s written neatly under your writing from yesterday: the date and “White Chocolate Macadamia 7.5/10”

“Oh! It’s an improvement at least!” you say with pride.

Pero nods, though not smiling, no longer bothering to put on his customary frown, “It’s very good. But still not my favourite cookie.”

“That’s okay, I’m doing better, that’s what matters.” Pero thinks that if he could be responsible for the smile that’s currently on your face for the rest of his days, he could die happy.

Then to his surprise, you pull out two more containers from your bag; for a moment, Pero thinks he’s in for another cookie, but when he leans forward curiously, he sees that the containers contain some kind of pasta salad.

Holding out one of the containers to the bouncer, you offer, almost shyly, “Can you have lunch?”

“No.”

Oh. Maybe this was too much. Your face falls a little, before nodding, “I guess you’re working, sorry.”

Pero falters a bit when he sees your sweet face looking sad; he knows his grumpy exterior can put people off, but he didn’t mean to do so this time. Not to you. “You can have lunch though,” he gestures to the other chair behind the desk, next to him.

You brighten immediately, face breaking out into a big grin, “Really?”

“Yes, really,” Pero pushes his chair in a little to give you some more room to pass behind of him.

Happily, you plop down on the free seat and get out two forks. You lay one on a container and push it towards him, and pick up the other to start digging into your salad, “Is it a rule you can’t eat here? I hope you don’t get in trouble for the cookies.”

Touched by your concern, Pero explains, “There’s no rule, but it doesn’t look very intimidating if I’m savouring a baked good while turning people away from the restaurant.”

Mouth full of food, you cover your mouth daintily with your hand, “Why do you turn them away?”

“The owners are really passionate about this restaurant; so much time and heart has gone into every aspect, from the menu to the decor. Lin is a fusion of Spanish and Chinese cuisines, with some Latin influences; all these cultures are rich in history, beloved and cherished by their people and the owners. The restaurant is named for one of their wives. They just want the people who come and eat here first to be people that will truly immerse themselves and enjoy the experience and food, appreciate it for the labour of love that it is. Not people here for clout.”

“That’s really sweet. I didn’t know Lin held such a special meaning,” you smile, genuinely touched as Pero tucks the containers you brought him away for later, “How can you tell who’s here for clout and who isn’t?”

“Just my gut,” Pero says simply; he reaches into his drawer and pulls out the container you left him with yesterday, cleaned.

You’re surprised and gratified, “Oh, thank you! You didn’t have to clean it!”

“You would have done the same.”

“Well, I mean… yes, but…”

“Then you deserve the same back,” his tone kind, but factual.

You grin as you look down, taking the container before looking back up at Pero with an amused look, “You seem fairly sure in what you know about me, but you don’t even know my name.”

“I’ve just been calling you ‘Cookie’ in my head.”

You feel your face flush at the idea that he’s given you a pet name and tell him he can call you ‘Cookie’ if he wants, but also give him your name.

“Pero Tovar,” he introduces himself, holding out his hand; when you shake it, you’re pleasantly surprised at the gentleness with which he touches you. You can feel a strength and self-assuredness in his grip, but the way he handles you is almost careful. Like you’re precious.

“Ok, Pero Tovar,” you beam, loving the opportunity to let his name roll off your tongue, “what’s your favourite part about working here?”

“The bribes,” he quips without missing a beat before he winks at you. You shouldn’t feel your heart skip a beat from such a small gesture, but you’re filled with a lot of fondness for Pero suddenly and you look back down at your salad so he can’t see the way you’re grinning.

He does see, however, and he finds himself experiencing a similar fondness for you. He earnestly answers your question, telling you about the delicious food, the months of recipe R&D all the staff took part in, and the hardworking team they’ve put together upstairs.

The remainder of your lunch hour passes too quickly for your liking. Your conversation with Pero never wanes; you find that not only do you have a love of food in common, but can apparently both talk about it for hours. Pero is funny and thoughtful; something that is readily reflected in his more natural expression. You almost laugh out loud each time a potential restaurant patron comes in and he immediately flips a switch and turns on what you now suspect is just a scary work persona. Especially if once that person is out of sight, he immediately softens his handsome features and goes back to telling you about the best gelato he’s ever had.

Thursday

The following day, you’re met with a surprise as you approach Pero’s building; normally anytime you run into your friends unexpectedly, it’s a pleasant surprise, but it doesn’t appear to be very pleasant for Eloise and Dorothy today. In fact, Dorothy looks downright surly.

“Babes! What are you doing here? What’s wrong?” you exclaim, both confused and concerned.

“Ugh!” Dorothy actually stomps her foot, “That neanderthal won’t let us up for lunch. What is it going to take? He won’t even tell us why or give us a chance to change his mind.”

“Pero?” you ask, still unsure of what happened, “You talked to Pero?”

Eloise steps in, because Dorothy looks like she’s about to have an aneurism at the sound of his name, “We finished up some of the content we were making nearby, so we thought we’d come down and give getting in a shot, since you said you don’t think it’s impossible. We figured, best case, you’re coming down here anyways – maybe we could all have lunch at Lin together, and worst thing would be we don’t get in, but then we’d be meeting up with you and we could go get lunch somewhere else?”

“NO,” Dorothy grits through her teeth, “The worst thing would be if we had to deal with that self-important ass. Who died and made him king?!”

After what Pero told you yesterday about the owners of Lin and how they want their patrons to experience the restaurant, you know exactly why Pero didn’t let your friends up, but you’re not about to tell them lest you want to hear more expletives directed at him. Maybe you can help smooth it over.

“Do you guys think you can give me ten minutes to talk to him? Then let’s go to Quattro for lunch?” you ask, picking one of Dorothy’s favourite restaurants in an effort to placate her.

“Come on, Dorie,” Eloise tugs at Dorothy’s sleeve, employing the nickname only she and you are allowed to use, “There’s some really good lighting down the street. Let’s get a couple more shots for Instagram.”

“FINE,” Dorothy begrudgingly agrees, then points at you, “but ten minutes only. Then we’re coming in to rescue you from that asshat.” You don’t tell her that her scowl right now could give that asshat’s scowl a run for its money.

When you walk in to the building and approach the front desk, your heart melts when you see Pero’s face crack a small smile upon seeing you, “Hey, Cookie.”

As you approach the edge of his desk, he moves to scoot forward in his chair like he did yesterday when he invited you to eat with him, “Can you stay to have lunch again today?”

Staying where you are, you shake your head and give him a look of regret, “No, sorry. Not today.” You shouldn’t but you feel your heart warm a little at the way his face falls in disappointment. You reach into your bag and bring out two containers, one with a sandwich for him, and the other with today’s cookie offering: salted caramel.

“I was going to stay, but now it seems that I have two very upset friends that I need to take out to lunch,” you give him a small playful smile so he knows it’s not (too) serious.

It takes him a second to make the connection, but the instant he does, his face reverts back into the deep scowl he probably gave your friends. You’re not sure what possesses you, maybe it’s the desire to see the softer expression that he normally reserves for you, but you reach out and touch Pero’s face, your fingers lightly grazing the scruff of his jawline. He looks at you with a small look of surprise but doesn’t move away. “Please don’t judge them too harshly,” you ask of him gently, “I know they probably didn’t come off that way, but they’re the exact type of people who would appreciate Lin in the way that the owners hope. They are very good people, I promise. And very dear to me.”

Pero doesn’t know how he could ever refuse you anything, the soft lilt of your voice and the eloquence of your words would be enough to convince him of anything he’s sure. He gives you a little nod and is rewarded with your sweet smile.

He misses your touch immediately when you withdraw your hand from his face; so much so that when you ask if he’s ready for today’s cookie, he reaches out to place his hand on your waist before nodding.

You gasp a little when he holds you, wondering how you got here, from strangers to exchanging small familiar touches in less than a week; but you can’t say it doesn’t feel right. You don’t know what this connection with Pero is or where it’s going, but you know you don’t want it to end.

Opening the container, you tilt it towards him and watch him select a cookie. Giving it a once over, Pero takes a big bite and chews thoughtfully as you wait for his verdict. You don’t try to peek at the scorecard today, but when he shows you, it’s with an apologetic look on his face, “Sorry, Cookie. Don’t be mad.”

“Oh no…” your eyes widen when looking for the number, “… a 2??!” You look up at Pero, horrified. “Did I do something wrong? Mix up an ingredient?” You grab a cookie from the container and take a bite; it tastes as expected, no surprise ingredient or taste. Oh no. It tastes the way you think it should and he hates it.

It’s so silly. People are allowed to not like your cookies, but you hadn’t realized how badly you had wanted to impress Pero until you… didn’t. He’s being very nice about it, still eating the one he’s holding in his hand, but you think you might cry; although you try not to, your face assumes the corresponding saddened expression anyways, “Oh, I’m so sorry they’re not good.” You attempt to close the container and take it away.

Pero’s heart nearly breaks at the look on your face, and he chastises himself for being the cause. Wanting more than anything to make you feel better, he gently takes back the container, “They are very good. Really, Cookie,” he tries to convince you when you look up at him, dubious, “I’m just not a big fan of caramel, that’s all. They’re still delicious.”

You can’t tell if he’s lying just to make you feel better, but a little part of you likes the idea that he would care to.

Desperate now to make you smile, Pero suggests, “How about you and your friends come back tonight for dinner at Lin?”

“No! No way,” you practically shout, to Pero’s surprise, “Not for a 2!! I didn’t earn it.”

He concedes a little, “It’s more like a 3, maybe even 4. They’re delicious, just not for me.”

Shaking your head, you won’t budge, “No, no, no. I don’t want your pity points. It’s a 2, and that’s the final score. And that’s not a sufficient bribe. I’ll try again tomorrow.”

Pero breathes a little sigh of relief upon hearing that you plan on coming back. When he reaches into his desk to get you your cleaned containers from yesterday, he confirms, “Ok, tomorrow it is then.”

As you’re packing away your containers, he continues, “…until then, I have something for you.”

You look up in surprise, “Something for me?”

“Of course. You bring me delicious food everyday, it would be ungentlemanly of me not to return the favour.” With that, he pulls out a takeout box from the mini fridge that he’s been saving for you.

You’re delighted; you’re not sure what it is but you’re touched by Pero’s thoughtfulness.

“It’s the shrimp toast I told you about yesterday.”

You squeal, “From upstairs?”

He nods as you happily take the box from him; it’s one of the Chinese-Spanish fusion dishes that he had described to you that supposedly exemplifies the type of cuisine Lin does best. He’s been looking forward to sharing it with you and seeing what you think.

“Oh Pero, thank you so much! I’ve been thinking about this and how it might taste since you told me about it yesterday! Is it okay if I share it with my friends?” you ask, shyly.

Of course, you would think of sharing with others; Pero nods his permission.

“Thank you, thank you!” you’re beaming and before you can talk yourself out of it, you lean down and give Pero a kiss on the cheek and promptly skip out the front doors.

Hand to his cheek, Pero watches as you wave over your friends, the same two women he had turned away from the restaurant not 15 minutes ago, and sees you excitedly present the box to them. The three of you open the box, and peer in eagerly, each reaching in to take out one shrimp toast; you wait for each other and adorably cheers your food before each taking a big but elegant bite.

He can’t help but grin as he listens to your collective squeals and exclamations of approval that he can hear even through the closed doors. The flavour explosion on your tongue is incredible, the flavours of the two cuisines melding perfectly; each bite is perfect. “So gooood!” Eloise moans, and the three of you dance around happily while savouring a second toast each. When you’re done, you wave enthusiastically at Pero through the glass and give him a big thumbs up, then you and your friends chorus “Thank you, Pero!!!” before setting off for lunch, giggling.

Friday

You had mulled over which cookie to bake all evening. Pero doesn’t seem to like the cookies that are too sweet, which kind of feels in line with his personality, so you settle on Oatmeal Raisin; an oldie but a goodie.

Unable to contain the skip in your step when you’re heading to his building today, you’re feeling positively giddy. And it’s all due to Pero. He’s so different that you initially thought – he’s thoughtful, and funny, and capable of unexpected kindness. Of course, he’s still a bit rough, bordering on fearsome, but you think it lends itself to his particular brand of handsomeness; his scruffiness and that scar over his left eye have invaded your dreams more than once this week.

Before you can even take out today’s cookies though, Pero invites you to sit down behind the desk and asks you to wait for him while he disappears into an opening in the far corner of the lobby. You wait there for about five minutes, amusing yourself with what you might do if a restaurant patron were to come in, when you hear the ding of an unseen elevator and see Pero reemerge from the same alcove.

He’s carrying a little tray with a cover on it; setting it down in front of you, he says with exaggerated flair, “Lunch is served, princesa” and lifts the little silver dome.

The only thing that can distract you from the new nickname is the mouthwatering smell of the food that's on the plate in front of you. Pero watches you examine the dish and is mollified when you ask, “Is that... stewed pork belly in an arepa??!” Proud that you got it right away, he gestures for you to try it, and you enthusiastically pick up the stuffed patty and take a giant bite. You can’t help but moan. The rich savoury flavour of the pork is perfectly offset by the crisp veggies and the light spread inside the bread; the softness of the fat positively melts into the crispy texture of the warm arepa. You’re in heaven.

“Good?” Pero can’t help but feel a sense of pride from your obvious approval of the dish.

“Omigod, s’good,” you mumble, mouth still full. When you’re done swallowing, you feel a surge of tenderness towards the man in front of you who seems to share your love language of food, “Thank you, Pero! This is so amazing. Lin has to have some of the best food I’ve ever tasted. This and the shrimp toast from yesterday are all so well executed and flavourful, and all so incredibly unique. You can taste the love the owners put in; please, please pass on my compliments if you don’t mind? This place is going to be such a success.”

Pero sits back down, looking at you with a look that you can’t quite place, something between adoration and amusement as you continue to stuff your face. In between bites, you hand him your box of cookies, which he eagerly opens. Unbeknownst to you, he’s already decided that he would give you and your friends the go ahead today; after yesterday, he knew he would do anything to put a smile on your face. But he also didn’t expect you to have guessed his favourite cookie on the fourth try. Devouring two cookies in a row, he takes out the now familiar pad of paper and marks down today’s score: 10, circled three times for effect.

You practically squeal in excitement, eyes wide in disbelief, “Really?! You liked it that much?”

Pero nods, thrilled at your reaction, “Loved it, Cookie. Oatmeal raisin is my favourite.”

You throw your arms around him in a big hug, and revel in the warmth that flows through you when you feel his strong arms encircle your waist. Getting a hold of yourself, you sit back down in your chair, making yourself presentable with your back straight and your hands clasped in your lap, “So, Mr. Pero Tovar, have I successfully bribed my way upstairs?”

Unable to supress his chuckle, Pero answers in equal seriousness, “I would say so. How about tonight at eight. Dinner for three, I presume?”

“Oh yes! Thank you!! Eloise and Dorothy are going to be so pleased! And I am as well, of course,” you look at him with some renewed shyness, “Will you be working tonight?”

“I will. I’ll probably be off before you finish dinner, but I’ll be here to let you up.”

“Ack! I can’t wait!” You ask if you can help Pero with the dirty dishes, but he waves you off. You leave him with the quiche you brought him for lunch before waving goodbye and texting the girls the good news.

---

At 8 p.m. on the dot, you, Dorothy and Eloise, walk through the front doors of Lin; Pero is in the elevator bank letting the people in front of you up, so the three of you wait patiently by his desk. When he turns, he has his signature work scowl on, but immediately softens when he sees you.

“Hey Cookie, ready to go up?”

You nod happily, and introduce your friends.

“Oh, we’ve met,” Pero’s eyes narrow before he smirks, to which Eloise looks bashful and Dorothy puts on her most innocent expression.

Once you’re in the elevator, Dorothy pokes you in the back and gives you an encouraging look; taking a deep breath, you stop Pero’s hand when he reaches in with the fob and gently push him backwards, walking him back down the elevator bank. Pero looks confused, “Is something wrong, princesa?”

Looking at him innocently, you ask, “Pero, may I have your phone?”

He unlocks and hands it to you without question, curious. You quickly snap a selfie and put yourself in as a new contact with your phone number, before handing it back, “In case you get a craving for any cookies.”

Pero blushes when he realizes what you’ve done, but as he walks you back towards the elevator, he does so with his hand resting comfortably on your lower back. Leaning in to press the elevator buttons for you, he whispers, “Can I call you later, Cookie?”

You answer with a quick peck to his cheek and a small nod; his grinning face is the last thing you see before the elevator doors close.

#pero tovar #pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar fic #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x f!reader #pero tovar x you #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #modern!pero tovar #modern au #no y/n

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